Loosen Your Corset, Princess
by idcabtthisish
Summary: A series of one-shots about Hayffie over the years. Story prompts welcome. Please leave prompts/suggestions in a Review. 1st come 1st serve. Stories aren't in any particular order. Could go on forever as long as the suggestions keep coming. Ratings vary by story, though I'm putting M. Will feature appearances by others. Enjoy & don't be afraid to suggest a story line.
1. The Fall of the Capitol

_**YOU KNOW THE USUAL: I'M NOT SUZANNE COLLINS. I'D MUCH RATHER BE JK ROWLING. LIKE… ANY DAY.**_

 _A/N: Hello Loves! SO I wrote this because there are literally a million one-shots of Hayffie floating around in this head of mine, so I thought I'd go ahead and just put them all in one story._

 _These stories won't be in order. I'll just write them as I think of them._

 _Also, I'm taking suggestions. I'd love to interact with everyone, so anyone who would like to suggest a story line, please feel free to do so in a Review. I can't promise I'll do them all, but I'll certainly try. My only request is that it be Hayffie related, as it is supposed to be about them. I am not opposed to including other characters, of course. If there was ever a scene from the books AND MOVIES (yes, I'll cater to the movie Universe as well), from Haymitch's and Effie's POV, here's your chance._

 _This first story is one from my own head. I'm SO looking forward to hearing from you all._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **THE FALL OF THE CAPITOL**

 **Rated M for smut**

Effie made her way to Haymitch's softly lit room, not even bothering to knock. She slipped in and immediately leaned back against the door as she shut it.

He stared at her for a moment, taking in the silk red dress she wore to the Victory Dinner that worked wonders for her body. Effie had always been a petite little thing, but she certainly had curves in all the right places, and that dress showed off every single one. It was a complicated little number with a corset back and a sweetheart neckline in the front. There was a high slit up the middle that was way too daring for Haymitch's liking.

"Forget where your room is on the train?" he asked, because he hadn't had enough to drink, and he didn't like where his thoughts were leading him.

She didn't answer. Instead she took a shaky breath and slowly let it out.

"What's wrong with you?"

Still no answer. She just kept leaning against the door, this time closing her eyes.

"Isn't it fucking rude to ignore a question?"

When even his bad language failed to get a rise out of her, he finally walked up to her, concerned.

"Effie, what it is it?"

Maybe it was the use of her real name, which he hardly ever used. Or maybe it was how softly he asked the question. Whatever the reason Effie finally looked up at him.

"We have two Victors," she said softly.

Haymitch scowled, annoyed that that was all that was wrong. She damn near scared him half to death for _that_? "Well nothing ever gets passed you," said Haymitch sarcastically.

He backed away and started undoing his tie.

When he'd been struggling for a few moments Effie took pity on him and walked up to him, moving his hands away, not at all with her usual impatience.

"This will probably be the last time I see you," said Effie, barely moving her lips, and Haymitch arched an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll probably get moved to another District, and you'll probably be fired."

Haymitch stilled as they locked eyes. "Still pining for that promotion?" he asked coldly.

"It's what I'd do," continued Effie as if Haymitch hadn't spoken. "If I were _him_. I'd immediately split us all up."

She took his tie off and let it flutter to the floor, finally meeting his gray eyes.

They were void of any emotion whatsoever.

"Trinket, what the fuck are you talking about?"

His eyes may have been guarded, but he couldn't quite hide the panic in his voice.

"I believe, Mr. Abernathy, you owe me a dance," she said casually, and she stepped away from him and walked over to his bedside table, turning on the radio.

When she turned back around to him his mouth was hanging open.

Effie smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. It wasn't until she dug her nails into his neck that he wrapped his arms around her, and together they started dancing around his room.

Thank God an Avox had cleaned up after him, otherwise it'd be impossible.

"Do you honestly think I'm as stupid as I look?" Effie said carefully in his ear, and Haymitch stiffened, but didn't respond. "I'm talking about the berries, and what it means."

Haymitch jerked violently and pushed her back, looking into her eyes. Gray searched blue, and she watched as his eyes widened in surprise, and then quickly turned to anger.

He pushed her against the wall none too gently, his countenance dark. She gasped. "Are you fucking stupid?"

"No. And I think that's the problem."

"You have no business—"

"Oh, yes I do," she said icily.

"You're fucking Capitol, got damn it."

"So is Plutarch. And Cinna and Portia. But you embraced them with open arms."

"That's different," he snapped out angrily.

She jutted out her chin. "Why?"

"Because."

She let out a hot breath. "Complete sentences, Haymitch."

"Because it's _you_!" spat out Haymitch rather loudly, and she shushed him, glancing at the radio. "Fuck it to _hell_." He backed away from her, punching the wall in frustration. "You can't. You absolutely cannot. I won't allow it."

Effie stood tall, scowling. "You can't stop me," she told him.

He looked at her, approaching her again. "Wanna bet?"

He could be downright scary when he wanted. It was no wonder how he won his Games. Still, she didn't back down from him, and his eyes narrowed at her when she stood her ground.

She reached out and grabbed his hand, looking at his knuckle. "You should get some ice on that," she told him softly.

"Don't try and change the subject."

She ignored him and walked over to his bar where she grabbed some ice, put it in a napkin, and bought it over to him.

He threw it on the ground.

"Will you stop being so dramatic?" she scolded.

"How did you even—" He stopped himself as it hit him. "Cinna."

"Don't be mad, Haymitch," she said quietly, gently reaching out to touch him. "I thought you'd be happy."

"Why the fuck would you think that?"

"Because maybe then you wouldn't have to fight so hard against how you feel," murmured Effie.

She refused to blush, and forced herself to keep her eyes locked with his.

"And how do you reckon I feel?" he asked with contempt.

"Don't," warned Effie. "We're passed the point of pretending. That's why I came in here tonight: to be honest with you. You could show me the same courtesy."

He just scowled at her.

"We've been dancing this dance for quite some time now, Haymitch," she told him softly.

He looked away then, as the anger started deflating back to panic.

She was right. It'd been at least ten years, give or take a few years, that they'd been sharing longer touches, glances that turned to blushes, frowns that turned to smiles. For ten years he hadn't minded her nagging him, or chastising him, and after a fight he actually found himself feeling bad. Ten years of apologies, and drunken truths, and late night train rides.

Ten years of blurred lines that had never officially been crossed.

They'd taken special care to ensure that they never really came close.

Got damn that night ten years ago, when he'd walked in on her crying and throwing up at the death of their Tributes.

The night he realized Effie Trinket wasn't just a Capitol mannequin but a bleeding human being.

He should have known then.

And there lied the true reason for his anger. The fact that he hadn't picked up on it. He knew Cinna for what he was the minute they met.

He wasn't even this blindsided when he found out _Finnick O'dair,_ peacock extraordinaire, was apart of the team.

But Effie?

His heart lurched at the thought, because damn it to hell they _had_ been dancing this dance for ten years.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed silent, lost in his thoughts, but after a few moments Effie walked back up to him, gently cupping his cheeks.

"They'll kill you if you don't play your cards right." And there it was. _His_ underlying fear.

"I fooled you for this long."

"That's different. I saw what I wanted to see," he said, and she cringed, dropping her hands. He closed his eyes briefly, catching her hands and clutching them before they fell to her side. "I didn't mean that how it sounded, Princess."

"I understand you, Haymitch, more than you know and think. I know it's easier to see a Capitol bitch than to ponder the quiet disdain radiating from my very being."

"It's so much easier that way."

"I know," whispered Effie softly, and for the first time ever, they crossed the line.

When Effie's lips touched his, Haymitch's first reaction was to pull away, and he did, after several moments.

"We can't do this," Haymitch told her.

"I know," said Effie again, and then she was kissing him again.

He jerked away and she tilted her head at him.

"Effie, we can't. It's not allowed. It's dangerous. You're an Escort, and I'm the fucking Mentor, damn it."

She just stared at him for a few moments.

And then she lifted her hands to her hair. It took him a few minutes to understand what she was doing, and when he realized it, her wig was nearly off her head. He wanted to tell her to stop, that it wasn't proper—and that was her line, if any line ever was—but the words wouldn't form.

His breath caught in his throat when she shook her dark red hair curls loose.

Effie Trinket, a redhead.

That explained the bloody temper.

She dropped the wig at her feet, and he took it for what it was: the fall of the Capitol. She made her way passed him and to his en suite bathroom. She turned on his light and closed the door. She was gone for quite a few moments, enough time for Haymitch to fear the worst—that she'd come out of his bathroom naked, and how the fuck would he be able to deny her then?

He was, after all, nothing more than a man, as broken as he was.

And damn her for reminding him that he was.

But when the door opened, he'd have much rather have had her undressed than to be presented with the _real_ Effie Trinket.

She was definitely naked, even if she was fully clothed.

The Capitol was gone.

Her face was completely bare, and fucking shit was she gorgeous. She looked younger without the gunk and powder, and somehow her sparkling blue eyes were more pronounced than ever. Her lips were full and pouty and luscious and he would have been better off if she'd just stripped down to nothing instead of showing him _this_.

"Effie," and he fucking _hated_ the plea in his voice.

She wasn't playing fair.

She walked up to him again, slowly, so slowly, almost in slow motion, and he should have run, he could have outrun her, damn it, but he was frozen in place.

And then her lips were but millimeters away from his. "Your Escort is gone," she breathed, and this time when she kissed him he wasn't able to pull himself away.

His hands found their way down the small of her back and he nearly groaned when she shivered at his touch. His hands acted on their own accord and started fiddling with the strings on her back.

"Tell me to stop," and the same plea was still present in his voice. "Please tell me to stop."

"Not a chance in hell," she said against his lips, and then _her_ hands were on his chest, and then her nimble fingers were unbuttoning his shirt.

With the greatest effort he possessed he grabbed her hands. "Walk away, Trinket." His voice was dark and serious, but also husky, and it'd been _years_ since he'd heard himself use that voice.

"Not a chance in hell," she repeated.

He had no fight left. None.

He was undone.

He mashed his lips to hers and she moaned, and it was honestly the most _thrilling_ sound he'd _ever_ heard, and he'd do anything, _anything_ to hear her make that same sound again.

He heard himself growl when she slid her tongue into his mouth, and he happily granted her access, his heart pounding faster once their teeth scraped and she bit his lower lip.

She was going to kill him.

His hands tried to make quick work of the back of her dress, but he couldn't untie her corset. He grew increasingly frustrated until he thought _fuck it_ , and reached behind him to grab his knife. He broke away from her, not trusting himself to do this without looking, and turned her around.

Haymitch took a calming breath, forcing himself to _breathe_ , because his hands were shaking with desire, and he needed to be careful, because the truth is he sharpened his knife every bloody day, and one wrong move and he'd hurt her.

Not hurt her like he wanted to do by sinking his teeth into her flesh or biting her or digging his nails into her skin, but _hurting_ , hurting her, like sleeping with her tonight would probably inevitably end up doing to her.

The dress slithered down her small frame, and any thoughts of hurting her were forgotten. He dropped his knife—he wouldn't need it tonight—and picked her up, dropping her onto her vanity, kicking her dress from around his feet as he did so.

It landed off in a corner somewhere, near her wig.

The Capitol had fallen, and he was left with Effie, just Effie.

She undid his belt and he watched, transfixed, as prim and proper Effie Trinket pulled his pants down with no embarrassment present on her pretty, porcelain face.

Guess this Effie wasn't always prim and proper.

He would have been amused if he weren't so bloody turned on when she slithered her hands underneath his shirt and tore it open, buttons flying everywhere.

"Cinna's gonna kill you for that," were the first words he muttered that were coherent.

"I know how to deal with him," she responded, and then her lips were on his chest, and then down, down, down, and—

He lost himself when she wrapped her lips around him, his hips thrusting forward on their own accord.

He couldn't wrap his mind around the noises he was making, but what he did know is if she kept _that_ up, he'd be done for, so with surprising gentleness he pulled her hair.

"Princess you're going to kill me," he told her, his voice strained.

And that seemed to undo everything.

"Don't," she hissed, her eyes immediately welling with tears. "Don't _talk_ like that, Haymitch. There are already so many whispers…."

And suddenly he understood it all: the dance they shared at the Victory Ball, the way she came into his room, slightly undone.

And this. This was what she really thought was their goodbye.

"Maybe we shouldn't…." His voice trailed off as he looked at her. "You seem… fragile right now."

She stepped closer to him, her nails digging into his hips. "You've never much cared for my feelings before," she said coolly. "Please don't start now."

That hurt more than he cared to admit, but he didn't get a chance to rebuttal because her lips were on his again and _this_ time there was certainly no stopping it. Her mouth found its way to a particular spot on his neck he never knew existed, but oh how he favored it.

It made him literally lose control when she bit his shoulder blade, and with strength he didn't know he possessed he picked Effie up and dropped her on the bed, lowering himself so that he was squatting.

His lips were fire as his tongue lapped at her, biting along her inner thigh. The most beautiful plea came out of Effie's mouth after a while, and Haymitch knew what was about to happen moments before it happened.

She came undone in his mouth, her hands gripping a fistful of his hair, and it did nothing more but fuel the fire.

She pulled his hair, not at all gently like he'd done, and he growled at the welcomed pain.

"Stop teasing," she mumbled as she pulled him up, and she immediately slid her legs around him.

"Well someone's certainly impatient," smirked Haymitch, and the smile she gave him made his heart do something stupid, like flutter around in his chest and land somewhere safely in his stomach.

Shit. He hadn't had a heart in nineteen years.

When he entered her he plainly saw stars. Lots of them.

He was in heaven.

He _had_ to be, because nothing on earth had ever felt this good before. Nothing at all. Not in a million years. Never ever.

And even though he wanted nothing more than to pound into her, so hard that the bed would break, he stayed still, because of the sharp in take of her breath, and the way her nails dug painfully into his back.

It worried him that he didn't want to hurt her, even though by default, this act in itself would bruise her like nothing else.

There could be no happy endings.

Would be no happy endings.

"Stop it," she scolded him, and he wondered when she'd been able to see right through him.

Seriously, when the fuck did that happen?

He stared at her for several moments, understanding he was going sentimental in his old age, and she seemed to understand it, because her features hardened.

"No," said Effie darkly. "Not now. Not ever. When it's all over, maybe. When the Uprisings have stopped. When you pull off whatever you pull off. Feel it then. Right now…? Right now it's goodbye, okay?"

It wasn't lost on him that _he_ should be saying these words to _her_ but damn it to hell she started moving her hips against him and he was lost again.

He was not kind and gentle.

He _couldn't_ be, because despite what she said, being kind and gentle would break her more than the heat, and the pain, and the carelessness of the way he was about to do her.

Because truth is he saw her too.

She clutched him tightly as he pummeled into her, again and again and again, and _again_ , and something about the way she said his name had him forgetting everything but hers.

So when she moaned out 'Haymitch,' her breath hot on his ear, he groaned out 'Effie,' his stubble tickling her neck and cheek, and when that orgasm clawed its way out of her, he forgot his own name as he spilled himself into her, gasping for breath as her hips took in every drop.

Afterwards, lying side by said, Effie said, "Not bad for an old drunk," and he could hear the smirk on her lips.

He knew he shouldn't, but somehow his finger found its way to her cheek. "Not bad for a Capitol bitch," responded Haymitch, and even he couldn't deny the fondness in his voice.

She smiled at him and his thumb traced her lips, his gray eyes locking with hers.

"You're fucking beautiful," he mumbled. "Never needed all that cake."

"It's the way things are in the Capitol," said Effie, sitting up.

"Yah," he sighed.

She turned to him, playing in her hair. "It's quite funny how easily the mask comes off, though, isn't it? When the right person is doing it."

That was awfully cryptic, so he just blinked at her.

She stood up, rummaging around for his shirt. Upon finding it she buttoned up the few buttons that were left and made her way over to the bar, pouring them both a drink.

She handed him a glass of wine and said lowly, "I hope you get to see me like this again." She raised her glass. "To the Capitol falling, be it all at once, or one by one."

He raised his glass to hers and then drank, his eyes landing on her stupid dress and that ugly damned wig.

Her mask had fallen.

The Capitol would be next.


	2. I Never Do

_This is also one from my own head. I've read plenty of fanfics about the friendships between the former Victors—mainly Chaff and Haymitch, though Finnick is often mentioned. I wanted to add Seeder because I like her LOL. Also, I want it clear that I think Effie was in on the Rebellion (it does say she joined for personal reasons, after all) and there's a line in Mockingjay where Katniss is told Plutarch and Haymitch had to fight to keep her alive. That, to me, means she was in on a lot of things, because I can't see the two of them caring about Effie one way or the other. They certainly didn't care about any other Escort. With that said, I can't fathom the other Victors not knowing._

 _Keep an eye out for any grammatical errors, please. If you find any please let me know in a PM or a Review._

 _Also, if there's something in any of my stories, be it this one or any other ones I've written, that you want me to elaborate on, that might make a good suggestion, FYI. I've found a few things in stories I've written that I might expand on, but don't worry, no one will have to have read the story to understand them._

 _Can't wait to hear from you guys._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **I NEVER DO**

 **Rated M for language**

"Where the fuck is Haymitch?" snarled Johanna at the group. She looked at them, though none of them bothered to answer. They were in 12's Penthouse Suite, seated in the living room, drinks in their hands. Beetee's invention to keep the prying ears from listening in sat on the table, glowing blue. They hadn't been there but a few minutes. Long enough to pour drinks and settle into seats.

Johanna stared from Seeder, to Finnick, and finally to Chaff, who just shrugged and took another drink. When she narrowed her eyes at him he sighed.

"I suppose he's drunk as a skunk and being drug here by Trinket," he finally answered.

Johanna scowled. "Ugh is she coming?"

"Why wouldn't she?" asked Finnick, swallowing his own drink.

"She's always hovering around Haymitch. Can't he breathe? And why doesn't he just tell her to fuck off?"

Seeder eyed Johanna. "Why would he? It's not like he could even if he tried. She does what she wants."

There was a small hint of warmth in her voice as she talked about Effie that had Johanna's stomach churning.

"How can you all stand to be around that bitch?"

Chaff glared at her. "Watch your mouth, girl."

She noticed Finnick frowning at her and scowled back at him. "Why the hostility towards Effie?" Finnick asked.

"Oh, _Effie_ , is it?'" spit out Johanna.

"It's obvious, isn't it Finnick?" Seeder interrupted, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. "She wants to screw Haymitch and he wouldn't take a second look at her—with or without Effie."

Finnick arched an eyebrow. "Is that true?"

"What do you care?" challenged Johanna.

"She only wants to because Effie has Haymitch by the balls," Seeder said boldly to Finnick.

"Nobody has Haymitch by the balls," said Chaff, standing up for his friend.

Seeder and Finnick both shot him a look, and catching their eyes, he grinned.

Johanna's face darkened considerably. "Are you all telling me that Haymitch Abernathy, former Quarter Quell Victor, and Effie Trinket, current Capitol bitch, are—"

"I _said_ watch your mouth, Mason," Chaff said darkly.

Johanna's mouth fell open. "How can you defend her? And how fucked up does Haymitch have to be to fuck a Capitol whore? He needs to lay off the liquor."

"Effie isn't a whore," Finnick said. He paused for a few moments, eyeing his half empty glass. "I should know," he finished bitterly, finishing the rest of its contents.

"I can't believe an _Escort_ has you all _defending_ her. That must be some pretty good pussy."

Seeder stood up so fast that no one saw it. All they heard was the slap echoing around the Penthouse. "Don't talk about her like that," said Seeder coldly.

Johanna was too shocked to really react, except to say, "What the fuck is wrong with you all? Are you yanking my chain?"

"Trinket's different," said Chaff simply, like that explained everything.

Johanna scoffed. "Does she pull out kids name every fucking year to send them to their death or not?"

"She's different, damn it," snapped out Chaff. "She cares," he added a bit more softly. Johanna looked skeptical. "You've got three Victors vouching for her, don't you?"

Scowling, Johanna stood. "All of you are fucking stupid. And Haymitch is the biggest fucking fool of all. The Capitol killed his entire family yet he's in bed with one of them? That's fucking sick, and low, even for a fucking disgraced 12 drunk."

Chaff slammed his glass down, rising, his eyes flashing. "Don't _ever_ mention Haymitch's family. Not around me, and certainly not around him." Chaff's voice was low, and filled with warning. "You may be good with an axe, but Haymitch could slit your throat in his sleep, and at this point I don't know anybody who'd stop him or care. There are two things that'll piss Haymitch off more than anything: mentioning his family, and talking bad about his Escort. Now I'll cut you some slack because you're new to the crew, and it took us all a couple of years to wrap our minds around it as well, but we've already told you she's different. If it weren't for her I'd have lost Haymitch years ago. Do you know how many times she's bailed us out or come and got us? That woman has protected Haymitch. Cleaned up after him. Made sure he didn't choke to death on his vomit. She's saved each of us at least half a dozen times over the past several years. So you don't talk bad about Effie Trinket in front of us. And you better damn sure never talk bad about her in front of Haymitch."

Johanna looked like she was physically going to be sick. "I don't want to spend time with anybody who'd defend a bloody Escort over me." Her voice was shaking with suppressed rage as they all looked at her.

Finnick sighed, also standing. "Johanna, shut up," he said a little harshly. "Don't you get it? The fact that we're defending her should have been your first clue. Besides, Haymitch wouldn't love someone who was _really_ Capitol."

Chaff jerked and looked at Finnick. "Love? You're pushing it, kid. Lust is more like it."

Seeder rolled her eyes. "Oh he's in love with her all right. He just doesn't know it yet. Kinda like Katniss with Peeta."

Chaff looked at Seeder. "He's my best friend. I think I'd know if my own best friend was in love with his Escort or not."

Johanna shook her head in irritation and disgust. "I don't believe one of _them_ has all of you wrapped around her finger! Count me out." She started to walk away, towards the door. "I want nothing to do with your little club. She's no different from the rest of them. And if I could get away with it I'd wring her fucking neck with her stupid, blinding pink wig."

The knife that whizzed passed Johanna's face lodged itself deeply into the wall, a mere hair away from Johanna's face. She stood stock still, her eyes wide as she stared at Haymitch and Effie, who'd been outside on the balcony, having heard everything.

"Leave. Now." The way Haymitch spoke to her had her realizing very quickly that he could kill her in his sleep—with his eyes closed, and both hands at his side. Nothing rarely scared Johanna anymore, but the look he was giving her made it completely obvious how he'd won his Games. "And you owe said Capitol bitch your life. If she hadn't grabbed my arm that knife would be in between your eyes."

She stared at him, and then her eyes met everyone else's. Seeder was staring at Haymitch, her own eyes surprised. Finnick wouldn't meet her eye, which pissed her off even more, and Chaff had a look that clearly said, 'I told you so.'

And then her eyes rested on Effie, who was staring boldly at her, and the look in the Escort's eyes startled her. Her Capitol blue eyes were dark with anger, and quiet disdain, and it was such a shock for an _Escort_ to be looking at _her_ like that that Johanna found herself flabbergasted.

"I believe Haymitch told you to leave," she said coolly, and Johanna noted the way Effie held on to Haymitch's arm.

Johanna left without a word, feeling all their eyes on her.

Effie turned towards the group. "That girl is not allowed back in my Penthouse until she gets it. You all want to hang out with her, fine. But she doesn't belong _here_." She eyed them all to let them know she was serious. "You all enjoy your evening. I think I'm going to call it an early night."

"She'll learn, Effie," Seeder said kindly, seeing how upset Effie was, even with her Capitol mask in place. "Don't worry."

"I never do," responded Effie. She let go of Haymitch's arm after squeezing it gently and headed off to her room, trying not to worry about the love thing.


	3. Real or Not Real

_Favorite story I've EVER done in my whole life._

 _For starters, I always wanted to do a compare/contrast to the books vs. movies with the characters, which I_ _ **will**_ _do after Mockingjay 2 comes out. IF YOU SEE ANYONE ELSE DO THIS, KNOW THEY COPIED MY IDEA DAMN IT. LOL! I'm SO excited to share that one._

 _Secondly, this story is Everlark, but it's also definitely Hayffie, so it works for this. I love it so much that I'm thinking about making it a stand alone one-shot. What do you all think? I think the idea is unique, so…. Let me know!_

 _I hope you all enjoy this as much as I do. Looking forward to hearing from you._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **REAL OR NOT REAL**

 **Rated K**

The woman walked into the house without knocking—something that was still custom in these parts—her brother right behind her. She had long dark brown hair, but she wore it down, its waves flowing down her back. It was nothing like her mother's signature braid, and her hair color was the only thing that linked her to the woman who had birthed her. She was Peeta Mellark's daughter, from her bright blue eyes to her dainty hands that painted, baked, and played the piano.

He, on the other hand, had hair that was so like his father, his golden locks perfect, his crowing glory. It was the only feature of his father's though. From his eyes to his permanent scowl, he was Katniss Mellark, though he was much more trusting, and much kinder.

They found their parents in the kitchen. The older woman was cleaning game, like she'd been doing for years, though she didn't hunt anymore, and their father was mixing something. They were older now—older than ever, actually. She still wore her braid, but it was mostly gray now, and his hair was still perfect, but it was salt and pepper.

There were wrinkles around their eyes when they smiled at their grown children.

"Well hello," Peeta said.

"Why don't you two go wash up for dinner?" asked Katniss.

"We're not exactly hungry," Rye said, and Willow shook her head.

"Why? What's wrong?" inquired Peeta. The two siblings shared a look and then glanced at their parents.

"We…." Willow looked at Rye, who wouldn't meet her eye, and scowled.

When she wanted to, Willow could look exactly like her mother.

"We went and saw the Hunger Games movies."

Both of their parents stilled and stared.

Katniss was the first to speak. "What?"

"I know you said you didn't _want_ us to," argued Willow, "But we're adults, Mom. Like _real_ adults. And we thought we could handle it."

"Which we could," Rye cut in. "It's just… so much was different then the way you said."

Peeta and Katniss glanced at each other, a frown on both of their lips. They shared secret codes without their lips ever moving, something they had learned to do over the years.

They knew each other.

Finally Peeta turned to them. "So what was different?"

Willow and Rye both sagged with relief. "Well for one… you kept both your legs in the movies." She had a smile on her face when she said it.

Peeta's eyes shot into his hairline. "Really?"

"Yah. I don't know why the kept both your legs."

Peeta shrugged.

"And mom… mom wasn't as cold as she made herself seem," Rye said. "Like they never showed the part where you broke Dad's heart after the first Games. The Hunger Games ended with you guys coming home, then when Catching Fire started, you guys were hardly on speaking terms."

"Well I'm sure the movie just skipped that part. It's still mostly right," said Peeta.

Katniss scowled. She hated talking about those years, and now, thanks to these stupid movies, here they were, talking about it like it had just happened yesterday.

It was still better than when the books had come out, though.

"They pretty much got things right with Grandpa Haymitch," Willow said a little softly. "The movies kind of downplayed his drinking, but I'm glad. The book really laid it on thick, didn't it? They made it seem like any minute he'd drop dead from kidney failure."

"The book might have exaggerated a tad bit," said an amused Katniss, and then her smile faltered. "I miss him." She sniffed. "I miss them both."

"We all do," Peeta agreed, and they sat in silence for a minute. "How'd they fair with Grandma Effie?"

"Well the movies did _way_ better than the books," said Willow. "In the books you never got an _inkling_ that they were in love. I still don't get that, by the way. I mean they were the _true_ Star Crossed Lovers of District 12. You'd never know she was Rebel in the books."

"They did have her in 13 in the movies, though. That was weird," Rye put in. "That's why we were kinda… bummed when we came in. I felt like it took away her story, to put her in 13. People who didn't read the books deserve to know she was tortured."

"It's a kids movie," Katniss reminded them.

"They showed Rue's death," said Willow carefully. "And Uncle Finnick's."

Both of the parents paused, sharing another glance.

"I texted Finn. He said he saw it, but that he was glad Aunt Annie wasn't here to see it. She would have both loved and hated the wedding scene."

The kids paused for a few moments and their parents waited expectantly. The children shared a look and then—

"It was different, seeing it," Willow said. "We've heard the stories for years…. Whenever someone would come over at some point someone would mention something. It was… difficult watching you go mad from Aunt Prim's death. But she's here. She's _always_ going to be here. In the flowers planted in the front yard, and—"

At that moment a blonde blur squealed and jumped into Willow's arms.

"Mommy you're back!" she said.

"I am," smiled Willow, looking at the little girl who so much favored her Great Aunt Prim.

At that moment Willow's husband came downstairs, giving his wife a soft kiss on the lips. He screamed Capitol, much like his mother, but looked Seam, much like his father.

"How were the movies?" he asked. He'd chosen not to see it. The books had been enough, he'd said.

"They were okay. Not like the books, but movies never are."

"Is dinner almost ready?" the little girl asked.

"Yes, little duck," responded Katniss. "Tell Mommy and Uncle Rye to go wash up. When they're done, the food will be too."

Later that night, when all their guests were gone, Peeta made his way upstairs to their bedroom. He found Katniss in the bathroom, fresh out the shower, braiding her hair in its signature braid.

He stopped at the door and watched her, like he'd done for so many years.

"What's your question?" she asked him.

She knew him.

He smiled. "Are you ever gonna tell them?"

"Gonna tell who what?" asked Katniss.

Peeta arched an eyebrow, and Katniss just stared. He rolled his eyes. She knew what he was talking about, but he humored her.

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned into his touch.

It still made his breath catch.

"Are you ever going to tell the kids that _you're_ Suzanne Collins?"

"Doubt it," she told him. "They don't need to know."

He dropped it. It wasn't his decision to make. Granted she'd come to him with the idea. Years ago. She had thought it'd be the perfect way to heal. And she'd been right, even if she had fabricated the truth some.

Okay a lot.

It'd been difficult, but she was trying to remember herself as a fifteen-year-old. She'd been self-absorbed, and quick to wallow in self-pity. She'd had a hard life.

She kept most of the truths. Her father's death at the mine's explosion. Being Reaped. The horrors they went through. Him being kidnapped.

But she'd left a lot out too, or had changed it. For one, he didn't still get flashbacks. His last flashback had taken place in the Capitol, before he'd ever returned back to 12. He had episodes, sure, but they never required him to grip the back of a chair. He knew how to decipher between real and shiny memories. And he only played real or not real while they were making the Tribute book.

Katniss _had_ made him wait for kids, but it wasn't twenty years. More six years. And they'd gotten married, officially, with a toasting, and an actual ceremony, and all their friends had been present: Annie, Finn, Johanna, Gale, Beetee, Plutarch, Greasy Sae, Thom, Delly, President Paylor, Effie, and Haymitch, about two years after his return.

Why she'd left that out he wasn't sure. It wasn't his story to tell. Though she had mentioned something about any Snow and Coin supporters out there should think they still suffered.

Which is why she continued to make Haymitch a drunk, even though the man had been sober since the day Effie came back to 12, a year after the Rebellion.

Nobody needed to know how happy Haymitch really was.

And Peeta had asked Katniss once, why she had left out Haymitch and Effie's love story, and her answer had been quite simple: they hadn't known at first, until they realized how panicked Haymitch was when Plutarch told them she was missing. She also said that those who should know, did know. The rest of the world didn't need to. Besides, she knew Effie and Haymitch wouldn't want the world to know.

And, it wasn't their story. It was hers.

Haymitch did raise geese, though, for several years. They were a great distraction as he waited for the train.

The train that brought Effie.

Because he was sure she'd return to him, after she'd forgiven him.

Because the truth was they were never supposed to fall in love.

They were on assignment.

Effie Trinket, Capitol Escort, had been a plant from the start, like Cinna and Portia.

They were colleagues. They weren't supposed to actually fall for each other. Not with her being an Escort and him being the Mentor. And she damn sure was never supposed to be taken and tortured.

But she had been.

Yet again, it wasn't _their_ story. It was Katniss'.

So there were things she didn't touch on in the books, so there was no way the movies could get it right. Though it was obvious they'd picked up Haymitch and Effie. Maybe Katniss had been too careful with that one.

He climbed into bed and waited for Katniss to join him. When she did, she immediately wrapped herself around him.

For old time's sake, he repeated a line from the book that _had_ been true.

"You love me. Real or not real?"

He could feel the eye roll along with the snort. "Real. Always."

She'd left out that that line had originally came from Haymitch and Effie, not Finnick, though he and Annie did use it as well. When you were a double agent, sometimes it was hard to keep up with what was true and untrue, what was real and not real.

But they had a system, Haymitch and Effie. The two of them worked.

And after it was all said and done, they'd taught him and Katniss a thing or two about love.


	4. 50 Shades of Grey

**FIFTY SHADES OF GREY**

 **Rated T for alluding to sex**

Effie stared out the window, looking up at the sky, a small frown on her face. "I don't like the color of the sky," she murmured. Haymitch grunted, acknowledging that he'd heard her, but wasn't really listening. "They're the same color your eyes get when you're mad at me."

 _That_ got his attention, forcing his neck to snap towards her.

He hadn't been _mad_ , mad at her in what felt like forever.

"Princess? What's wrong?" Haymitch got up and made his way over to her, standing next to her. He glanced at the sky, noting the clouds were grey, and then turned back to Effie. She didn't move. He gently turned her around so that she could look at him, and more importantly, so that he could look at her. She seemed surprised to see him standing there.

"Do you think it'll rain?" She didn't sound like herself, but she hadn't for over a year, so he swallowed back the panic, glancing at the sky again.

"Most likely," he told her, turning back to her. "Why?" He smiled, teasing. "Is Effie Trinket afraid of a little rain?"

She blinked, her face annoyed. "No." She paused. "It never rained in the Capitol."

"Well you're not in the Capitol," responded Haymitch, a little defensively.

"No. No, I guess I'm not." She looked out the window again and then sighed. "I think I'll go upstairs and take a bath." She forced a smile—that stupid Capitol smile that she used to wear that always made him want to slap her silly, if he were a man who hit women—and gently kissed his cheek.

His eyes followed her all the way up the stairs.

When night fell and she still hadn't reappeared he made his way upstairs to her bedroom. He knocked softly, and then entered in without waiting for an answer. She stood at the window, looking out into the night, the lightening illuminating her creamy skin, along with the small lamp she kept as a night-light.

She didn't say anything as he stood next to her. She barely moved at all. She wore a simple dark green nightdress that looked good against her pale skin and even better against her red hair and dark blue eyes.

Eyes he knew that would be troubled if she looked at him.

"Do you think the lights will go out?" she asked softly as lightening lit up the dark sky.

She hated the dark now.

She'd been captured and tortured and left in a dark cell.

For months.

"I'll be right here if they do," Haymitch told her.

"Okay." Effie finally turned to him. "Bed?"

It was early yet, but he obliged.

He took off his crewneck, his chest bare, and took off his shoes. He kept his sweats on. As custom, his arms found their way around Effie's waist.

She jumped violently in his arms when the first clap of thunder sounded.

She had his own heart pounding, and he was unsure if it was because of Effie's reaction, or the thunder itself.

When the next rumble sounded she whimpered and turned towards him, her face in his chest.

"It's just a storm, Princess," he said in her hair.

"It sounds like bombs," responded Effie in a scared whisper, and this time it was his turn to jerk.

Of course. How could he be so stupid?

He pulled her closer to him. "It's okay. You're safe now."

Another glass shattering blast. "Make it stop." Her voice shook with fear and panic.

"I can't. But I can help you forget."

"How?" She didn't sound doubtful, but hopeful.

"Tell me about the color of my eyes." She looked at him, her face confused. "You said the clouds were the same color of my eyes when I was mad at you, which tells me there are other shades." She blinked at him for a few seconds, and then gave him a slow smile that had his body relaxing. He hadn't even known he was tense. "Tell me about them."

"Well there are many," she told him, her voice already stronger, her eyes already clearer. "They're murky when you're sad. And the color of coal when you're angry."

Haymitch frowned. "The clouds weren't the color of coal."

She shook her head, her body only slightly jerking when thunder rumbled again. She was getting distracted. "Stormy grey and coal are two different shades, and two different emotions. Stormy grey when you're mad, coal when you're angry." He clearly didn't know the difference between the two emotions, so she explained. "They're stormy grey when I push you too far. Or when I'm being too Capitol, or too stupid, as you like to say. Coal is the color of the calm before the storm. It's the color your eyes used to get when Finnick and Chaff would flirt with me, just to make you angry."

Haymitch felt his mouth twitch. "The calm before the storm?"

"Yes. Because coal leads to hot coal. You never looked at me like that, thank God." She actually shivered. "You never looked at anybody you cared about like that. Hot coal was reserved for the Capitol. It's how you look whenever you talked about the Games, especially yours. Or when someone talked bad to or about me," she said quietly, her eyes going softer. "Hot coal was how everyone understood how and why you'd won your Games. Hot coal was dangerous."

He stayed silent for several moments, until another pop of thunder had her stiffening in his arms. "Surely there are some good shades in there," he finally said.

"Of course there are," said Effie as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Pewter meant you were worried about something. That's the only color your eyes were from the minute Katniss buried Rue up until…." Effie's voice drifted off. "Well, I suppose up until I got better." He felt his breath catch in his throat, because damn it, she wasn't better. She continued. "Slate is the color your eyes are when you're annoyed. They're _always_ slate when you look at me at _some_ point of the day."

"That's because you annoy the shit outta me, Princess," grinned Haymitch.

"Language, Haymitch," she said, shifting closer to him.

It made his heart beat faster.

"Seam grey means you're tired. Dark grey means you're happy. And silver…." She blushed now, and dropped her gaze.

He panicked. "Silver? What does silver mean?"

"It's… it's how you started to look at me when you realized I wasn't like the rest of them. It's how you allowed yourself to look at me when you realized I was on _your_ side. That I'd stand with you and the kids. That I meant it, when I said we were a team."

He mentally went through the emotions he felt when he found out Effie was a Rebel. Fear. Anger. Annoyance. More fear. And more fear after that.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep thinking that hard about it," she deadpanned, and he smiled, because she still knew him. As much as she had changed, she still knew him down to his core.

"I don't know what emotion you're talking about."

She sighed. "No. You wouldn't. But that's okay. Because I still see it, every now and then. It's normally mixed with the color of iron, which is the shade your eyes glow when you're hurting. Like the way you look now. Because you're hurting for me."

He fished for something to say, _anything_ , before he did something stupid, like cry.

"So I stare at you with a mixture of silver and iron?"

"Yes. And if you think about how closely the two are related, you'll probably figure out what silver is."

His mind started working a million miles a minute, and finally she rolled her eyes.

"Forget it," she said, sighing. She gasped and dug her nails into his skin when the thunder shook the house. He gripped her, letting her know he had her. She cleared her throat, her eyes fearful again.

"You still haven't told many any good ones," mumbled Haymitch. He found he was getting thoroughly depressed with this talk.

"Silver is the best one," Effie told him, and she took her finger and caressed his face. He froze, because it was the most contact she'd initiated in a while. "And then there's charcoal, which is probably my third favorite." She eyed him, her eyes twinkling again. "It's the color your eyes turn when you want me."

That he understood.

 _Lust_.

He'd have said something crass, but the way she was looking at him made him speechless.

He felt himself harden, but told himself to calm down. They hadn't crossed that line since she'd showed up in 12 a year ago. They almost had, a few months ago, after she'd had a bad nightmare, but then she'd told him no, because she was ' _ugly_ ,' and they'd had the biggest fight of their existence that night. It'd been their first fight since she'd gotten there, and as bad as it was, something shifted between them, and they were no longer walking on eggshells around each other.

They were nearly back to normal.

But he'd started telling her, every day, how beautiful he thought she was, and at first he thought it was falling on deaf ears, but lately she'd been showing more skin. She actually undressed in front of him now, which was a pain in the ass because he wanted to jump her bones, but wasn't sure that that was what she wanted anymore.

His eyes traveled down to her lips. They'd kissed a few times over the year—literally a few. Three. The last time had been months ago, but it'd been during a nightmare, so he wasn't sure if she was just seeking comfort of if she'd really wanted to do it.

From the way she was looking at him now, though, it seemed like an open invitation.

"So…" he licked his lips, trying to keep himself together, though his voice was thick, and a little husky. "If charcoal is your third favorite, and silver is the best, what's your second favorite?"

She stared at him, giving him a full smile, and moved her face closer to his. "Black. It's the color your eyes turn when you cum."

He crashed his lips to hers, or maybe she made the first move. He honestly had no clue. All he knew was that they were all over each other, and this time, she didn't stop him.

The thunder was forgotten.

Afterwards they lay breathless. He was dizzy with pleasure as he settled them under the covers. He pulled her to him and she rested her head on his chest, looking up at him, her eyes smiling.

He ran his fingers through her hair. "You'll move to my bedroom now?" he asked her softly.

"Honestly, Haymitch. It's _our_ bedroom."

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "What color are my eyes now?"

She smiled at him. "Too dark to tell," she lied.

He pouted and she laughed, but he thought he knew the answer now.

"Haymitch?"

"Princess?"

"I love you too."

Question officially answered.


	5. Almost

_Got my first prompt! SO excited! Kind of struggled with this one, but I hope you're satisfied, 'Guest.' Here goes nothing:_

" _This is awesome. Can you write a one shot about the kid haymitch and Effie almost had before the 74th hunger games?"_

 **ALMOST**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch sighed dramatically for the umpteenth time and Effie shot him a look that had him rolling his eyes.

"Honestly, Haymitch, if you're just going to whine, why did you even volunteer to come with me?" asked Effie, slightly annoyed.

"Right," Haymitch snorted. "Like I was about to let you come here alone."

Her eyes softened a little as she looked at him. "This is the last room I have to pack up, okay?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

She couldn't really blame him for his sour attitude. He hated the Capitol, and had for as long as she'd known him. Even before then, really. She wouldn't be too hard on him. He'd been here for three days, helping her pack up all of her things.

"I change my mind. I don't want you to move in with me. There's not enough room in all of Victor's Village for all of this crap."

"Language, Haymitch," hummed Effie as she cleaned out her office desk, not taking him seriously. "You know very well that most of these things will be donated."

"Well how do I know which ones you wanna keep?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes annoyed. "Do you know me or not?"

He sighed again dramatically and went back to looking at book titles in the library portion of her very large study. Yes, he knew her all right. He knew which books she'd want to take back to 12, but damn it this was taking _forever_.

He just wanted to go home.

But they'd be here for another _week_ at this rate. All her books were sorted alphabetically by book title, and he was only on B for crying out loud.

And that's what he felt like doing: crying out loud.

He grabbed another book, glancing over the title, and started to drop it in the donations pile when he stopped as the title sunk in.

 _Babies 101_ , it read, and Haymitch's eyes flew to the next book.

 _Babies and Motherhood_.

 _Baby and Me_.

 _Being Mom_.

Haymitch literally felt the world shift and his heart stop. He grabbed another book at random, his hands shaking so badly that he dropped it. He bent down to pick it up and noticed a piece of paper sticking out.

He stood there, transfixed for several moments, blinking rapidly at what was unmistakably an ultrasound.

"Effie." Finally, after several tries, Haymitch was able to call her name.

"Hm?" she said, not looking up. She was still going through her drawers of her desk.

"What is this?"

"What's what?" She still didn't look up. She was glancing at piece of paper, her eyes looking it over, before discarding it and picking up the next piece.

He wasn't sure how he found the strength to move—his legs were jelly—but somehow he made his way across the room, passing several different piles of boxes, and approached the desk.

" _This_ ," he spat out, placing the picture directly under her nose.

She snatched it away, scowling, and looked at it.

He saw her tense. Every part of her tensed. She stared at the picture for several moments, and when she finally looked up her eyes made their way passed him to look at the bookshelf.

Then she took one deep breath, closing her eyes, and sat down, placing the picture down gently on the table.

"I can explain," said Effie weakly.

"When?" His voice was dark.

"What? Now."

" _Now?_ " He glanced at her stomach, his knees getting weaker by the second, and he gripped her desk tightly.

"No I'm not… not _now_. I thought you meant when I'd explain."

Her voice was shaking, and her eyes kept darting between him and the picture.

"Effie… start talking."

She looked down at the picture, a sad smile on her face. "I got pregnant."

"No shit," he snapped. " _When_?"

She took another deep breath. "Sometime during the 73rd Hunger Game."

He scowled angrily. "Was it mine?"

"Was it… _what_?" Now her voice shook with anger as she slowly stood up.

"Or was it Crane's?"

The slap was so quick he never saw it coming. "I _never_ slept with Seneca," and how calmly she spoke didn't match the fury in her eyes. "You know damn well besides you there was only one other person, who I met before I even became an Escort."

Haymitch wanted to touch his cheek but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing her slap stung.

"So it was mine?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Who's else would it have been?" Her voice was colder now, her eyes blazing.

Haymitch paused, his eyes finally resting on the ultrasound. He audibly gulped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Effie sighed and sat back down. "I found out long after you left. I was already two months pregnant when I had finally went in for a checkup. I didn't know how to contact you. You didn't have a phone, and I'd have never told you in a letter. Both ways were inappropriate regardless. And traveling between Districts wasn't allowed then. But it didn't matter…. I…" Her eyes welled with tears that she suppressed. When she spoke her voice was firm. "I miscarried before month three."

He felt the strangest feelings at her word, as if something in him had broken again.

He realized that hadn't been the answer he was looking for.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again.

She didn't meet his eye for a few moments, and he waited. When she finally looked at him her eyes were sorrowful.

"You didn't love me then," she told him truthfully, and he felt his back go up. "It's true, Haymitch. You didn't. What we were doing then wasn't love. What would you have done or said? You didn't want children. Hell, I didn't. And what would everyone _say_? Everyone would know then."

The truth of her words didn't help calm him. "You should have told me," he said quietly, and he left.

She didn't follow him.

He didn't go far. He still hated the Capitol, and the whole point of him being here was to make sure she stayed safe. But he did walk around her neighborhood to clear his head.

He'd almost been a father.

And Effie had almost been a mother.

Effie.

Sighing he made his way back to her house.

They'd deal with this the same way they'd dealt with everything else: together.


	6. Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

_Thought of this one shot on my own. Got a couple of story suggestions that I can't wait to start on. Feel free to keep them coming!_

 **DRUNKEN WORDS, SOBER THOUGHTS**

 **Rated T for mild language**

When she heard the elevator _ding_ she tried to control herself, but her stomach wouldn't cooperate. She leaned back over the kitchen sink, gripping the counter until her knuckles turned white, and threw up again.

"Trinket? What the hell is wrong with you?" Chaff's voice approached her, his voice slightly concerned, but mostly wary.

She was, after all, only an Escort, and he didn't have time to be bothered with whatever was troubling a Capitol woman.

"I'm fine," lied Effie, wiping her mouth. "Haymitch isn't here."

"What'd you do, swallow one of them blue drinks?"

"What? Of course not," she snapped, but her bark lacked her usual bite. At that moment her eyes traveled back to the television screen. She felt her stomach lurch and she immediately found herself back over the sink, throwing up again.

Chaff took a look at the television screen, and then at Trinket, and found himself truly shocked. He was too confused to even move.

When she'd emptied herself again he was surprised to see the emotions swirling around in her eyes.

"How do you do it, Chaff?" Her voice was shaking as she cleaned herself off again.

"Do what?" asked Chaff dumbly.

"Stare Haymitch in his face after seeing his Games."

Chaff shrugged casually. "I'm a Victor." Effie's lips trembled. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

"I am just so _very_ sick of this," she said, her voice hissing.

He jumped and looked around, moving closer to her. "Are you _crazy,_ Trinket? You can't say shit like that."

She stepped back, blinking rapidly. "Oh. Oh my. Of course. I'm just tired. Haymitch isn't here," she repeated, trying to get her mind back on track.

"Right," Chaff said. "I'll see my way out."

 **XxXxXx**

When Chaff finally found Haymitch he pulled his friend to the side.

"What do you know about your Escort?" Chaff asked.

"Other than she's an annoying pain in the ass?" replied Haymitch, taking a sip of his drink.

"She's been your Escort for what, five years now?"

"Five long, miserable years." He drank again and looked at his best friend. "Why?"

"I saw her today when I was looking for you. She was watching your Games." Chaff rushed on as he saw the fire inflame in Haymitch's eyes. "It made her sick. Literally sick. She wouldn't stop throwing up. And then she said she was sick of it all."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow at his friend, frowning.

He was close to thinking about it. As much as he'd like to, he couldn't spend every single second of his life drunk out of his mind, so yes, he had slightly less drunk moments sometimes. And if he thought hard about it, he might consider the way her smile faltered every now and then—only around him—and the way her blue eyes had dimmed over the years.

But he pushed it aside, and shrugging he grabbed another drink, ensuring that he would be very drunk tonight. If he had any reason to be, it was this year.

It was the tenth anniversary of his Games.

 **XxXxXx**

When the elevator _dinged_ again Effie could barely lift her head.

So. Much. Alcohol.

Why had she drank so much?

When she finally did get up she was not at all surprised to see Chaff and Haymitch, in the elevator.

Both of them were sprawled on the floor.

Oh for goodness sake.

She sighed and started to make her way over to the elevator for fear that they'd just keep riding up and down all night.

That's when she saw the two Capitol officials. One held the door open and the other helped Haymitch on his feet. He grunted and the Capitol official looked to her.

"Put him here, on the couch," she said, hoping her voice wasn't slurred.

The Capitol official did as he was told, bid her goodnight, and seemed all too happy to leave her.

Haymitch moaned and Effie sighed. She did as she always did and took off his shoes, placing them on the side of the couch.

She reached over him and grabbed the blanket thrown over the couch to try and cover him—at least she tried to.

When she landed on top of Haymitch she realized she was way drunker than she thought.

Haymitch cursed.

"There is no need for that kind of language," she chided, but she was pretty sure it wasn't English.

"Trinket _what_ are you doing? I don't sleep with Capitol bitches."

Effie scowled, looking up at him. "And I don't sleep with drunk Mentors," she snapped back.

He looked at her, his eyes wide, and bloodshot.

" _What_?" she snapped as she started to get up—slowly.

"You've got black hair."

Effie gasped, her hands going to her hair, and the room spun. She moaned and stilled herself.

"You're wasted," he grinned. At least that's what she thought he said.

"There's this whole pot calling the kettle black thing," muttered Effie, and content that he wouldn't remember this in the morning, didn't bother to fix her wig.

"I don't feel good," he whined, closing his eyes.

"How much did you drink?" It was something about the way she said it that had his eyes popping open.

She'd _never_ asked him that question without judgment and contempt in her voice.

"A lot."

She sighed as she stared at him, her eyes showing an emotion he'd never seen before.

"Not enough to throw up like Chaff said you did," he continued with a smirk.

"That was _before_ the drinking, thank you." She walked—more like stumbled—towards the kitchen to get something for Haymitch to use when he undoubtedly threw up.

His eyes were closed by the time she'd made her way back to the couch. Balancing herself she once again reached for the blanket and this time succeeded in putting it on him.

And somehow she found the way to scramble out of the way when he turned over and emptied his stomach.

When she didn't _tsk_ , but knelt down and moved his hair out of the way, he realized he wasn't _that_ drunk, and that something was different now.

He thought about his conversation with Chaff.

He decided to ignore it.

"I still don't feel good," he mumbled.

"Yah well, you're on your own. I won't have you throwing up on me." But again, she wasn't judging. Just stating facts.

"No, not like that," he sighed, his eyes growing heavy.

"Then like what."

He shrugged. "Sad." He'd said it so softly that no one would have heard. She wouldn't have heard if she hadn't been looking right at him.

She realized what he meant. It _was_ his ten-year anniversary. They'd been airing his Games all week.

She hesitated and then gently gripped his hand, realizing the chances of him remembering this tomorrow were slim to none. And if he did remember, he'd never acknowledge it.

Effie was surprised when he gripped it back.

"Me too, Haymitch," she whispered softly.


	7. An Escort and A Drunk

_This one's mine. Working on a few prompts that I can't wait to post. Feel free to keep them coming in a Review_

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **An Escort and a Drunk**

 **Rated M for language and alluding to smut**

"I don't expect you to understand why I'm upset. You can just add Seneca Crane's name to the list of countless others you've killed over the years!"

The two of them had had their fair share of fights over the years, but this one was quickly getting out of hand. Everybody's emotions were stretched thin at the upcoming Games, and after what they found out at dinner, it was no wonder that tempers were high.

Haymtich stared at Effie, dumbfounded. "You think I give a _fuck_ about killing a Capitol puppet? You think I'd add _him_ to _any_ list, _ever?_ Your wig's too tight. And don't you dare talk to me about killings when your perfectly manicured hands pick the got damn names every fucking year. You're just as guilty as me, Princess."

Effie looks like she's been punched, and made to retaliate when Cinna finally snapped.

"That's it! I'm so sick of this shit!" He marched to the television and turned it up, its pointless noise louder than ever.

"Really, Cinna, I expect that from Haymitch, but you? _Manners_ , please!" Cinna eyed her something fierce and she quickly shut her mouth. Haymitch, who had a rapport already forming on his lips, swallowed his response at Cinna's look as well.

Cinna walked up to Haymitch and snatched the drink out of his hand. Haymitch attempted to struggle with him for a few minutes. "I wish you would, Haymitch. Don't make me knock you on your ass."

Haymitch snarled, ready, _itching_ really, for a fight, but somewhere, in the still sober part of his mind, he realized he was not angry with Cinna. Defeated he stopped struggling and sighed.

Cinna eyed him for a few more moments for good measure and stepped back to stare at the pair of them. "Why don't you two just fuck and get it over with?"

It'd have been comical, the way they both stared at him, gray and blue eyes alike. The way Haymitch paled and Effie blanched proved his point.

"Seriously you could cut the sexual tension with a knife." Cinna turned around, biting his cheek to keep from smiling at the still shocked expressions on their faces. Effie was too dumbfounded to even talk to him about his language.

When he turned back around to face them he had made a decision. "You two need to grow up. You're more alike than you think." He took a deep breath. "Haymitch, Effie is a prominent member of this Rebellion. She's been helping me design Katniss' Mockingjay suit for the past several months. Effie, Haymitch has been planning this Rebellion for the past several years."

The silence that greeted Cinna was deafening.

"And Seneca was one of ours, Haymitch. I mean barely…. He might have really come around had he lived. But surely you noticed how he took your suggestions…. I mean to have two Victors? It's unheard of."

Haymitch blinked in dismay. "Seneca… Seneca was one of _us_?"

"Yes," Cinna replied simply. "And us includes Effie. You two have been doing this together for the past twenty years, and it's always ended in disaster. Except for last year. If we're going to pull this off I need you two to work together. I don't want anymore arguing from you two. It drives a man to drink. Now if you'll excuse me I have some finishing touches to make to Katniss' wedding dress." When he reached the door he turned back and faced them. "And if, for whatever reason, you two can't stop fighting like a married couple, at least really _be_ a married couple."

Haymitch and Effie stood where they were, in their same spots, for several moments, the television blaring. Finally Haymitch was the first to move, but it wasn't to lower the television. Instead he sat down, shaking.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Effie said, sitting down next to him. "You've certainly been acting differently for the past several months. If anybody led the Revolution, it'd be you." He was still too stunned to say anything, so Effie continued. "I wasn't crying over Seneca when I ran off at dinner. Between Peeta drawing Rue and Katniss hanging Seneca…. They're going to retaliate, Haymitch. All our work… all our plans… they're pointless if the two of them get killed."

"How long?" rasped out Haymitch.

She could have scolded him for his bad manners—complete sentences, Haymitch—but instead she sighed. "A while now. Unofficially since I first heard of the unrest in 11. I found myself… understanding their anger, frustration, and hurt. Rue was but eleven…." She shook her head sadly. "I was officially apart of this when Snow made the Quarter Quell announcement." She paused, the air thickening as her anger consumed her. "I'd be damned if I was going to send any of you back to that Arena. They were either going to kill me, or I was going to be in on the plan to take them down."

She'd said it so fiercely that for the first time since Cinna's outburst Haymitch looked at her.

"It's okay," said Effie softly. "We were wrong about each other. You thought I was a Capitol bitch and I thought you were a lowly drunk. I've been wrong about you for twenty years. You've only been wrong about me for a few months." She sounded bitter, as if she couldn't understand how she'd been so blind. "I did think you'd have picked up on it, though. I mean when the hell have you ever heard of an Escort so boldly deciding to stand with her Tributes? We were taught to literally Escort them to their untimely death with a smile on our face. We were not to get attached. Yet here I was, talking about symbols…."

Haymitch slowly started to put things together.

The butterfly dress.

The desire for gold symbols.

The Mockingjay wig.

He felt his heart give out.

"But you're an Escort," he finally blurted out.

She smiled ironically at him. "Yes. And you're a drunk. What's your point?"

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water for several moments. Then he turned to the bar, looking at the bottle he had poured from.

"How much have I had to drink? And what the fuck was in this bottle?"

She sighed and stood up. "Is it really that hard to believe?"

He glared at her. "How many fucking Escorts have—"

"None. I'm the first in history. But seriously, there's a first time for everything. And who knows that better than us? Us, who have _two_ Victors? Haven't we proven that together we can change history?"

Haymitch stood up looking at her. "I don't have to… be nice to you or any shit like that do I?"

"God I hope not. Then I'd have to be nice to you. But if you could stop calling me a Capitol I'd greatly appreciate it."

She straightened her dress and started making her way out of the living room.

"What about the other part?" asked Haymitch before he could think better of it.

Effie stopped and turned towards her. "What other part?"

She was giving him a way out, but he didn't take it. "You know what I'm talking about."

Effie gave him a dark smile. "Darling, I guarantee that before you make your way to 13, I'll have had my way with you in bed."

He seemed shocked. Genuinely truly shocked. "Wanna bet?" he asked.

She walked up to him, yanking him by his undone tie, and pulled her to him, giving him a kiss that probably had steam coming out of his ears.

When her hands snaked down the front of his pants he jerked.

"I think it's safe to say I'd win," she murmured against his lips.

And when it was all said and done, he turned to her, a smug smile on his face.

"What are you smirking at? I won the bet," said Effie.

"You said you'd have your way with me in _your_ bed. We're in mine."

Her mouth sprung open as he cackled out a laugh.

"That's only because your room was closer."

He shrugged and laughed again as she pouted. Then she brightened. "Well the night's still young." She got up, slipping his shirt on, which he thought was awfully forward of her, but he was in too good a mood to say anything. When she reached the door she turned to him. "It's okay if you can't handle a round two, though. You are awfully old."

This time his mouth dropped open.

He'd certainly make her pay for that, and he vowed he wouldn't touch her bed.

The wall maybe. Certainly the shower.

There was always the vanity.

He won that round.

Until he fell asleep in her room. After a quick discussion the next morning they agreed to give the kids a day off, and it didn't take long for her to officially win the bet.

They didn't leave her room all day.


	8. Unconditionally

_Soooo I was at work and Katy Perry's Unconditionally comes on, and I'm singing at the top of my lungs, per usual, when I stopped and was like "OMG, HAYFFIE!" So here you go. You're welcome :)_

 **UNCONDITIONALLY**

 **Rated M for language**

" _Sometimes I really miss the Capitol_." Those were the words he kept replaying over and over again in his head as he laid on his couch, a bottle in his hand.

They were the first words he thought about when the door finally opened and she walked in, shivering as she did. He could hear her taking off her coat and shoes.

She stepped into the living room to find a sight she hadn't seen in several years: Haymitch, not even close to being sober.

She stopped and stared. "What's wrong?" she immediately asked, walking up to him.

He didn't answer. Just glared at her.

"Haymitch?" her voice hitched as her step faltered. "Haymitch, it's me. It's Effie."

"I know who the fuck you are," he spat at her.

She stopped walking all together, staring apprehensively. "A-Are you sure? Because it's been _years_ since you've looked at me with such contempt."

"Well it's been years since you've disgusted me."

That had her back going up. The shock of his words had her eyes switching from worried to guarded in seconds.

A defense mechanism.

Pretty soon she'd be back to her plastic smile and cheery voice, ever the Capitol puppet.

"Talk to me," she said, and her voice hadn't quite made the same decision her eyes had. Not yet.

He looked at her for several moments, taking a long drink as he did.

The shit burned.

It'd been a long time since he'd drank like this.

"How long?" he finally asked, slowly sitting up.

Getting drunk wasn't as fun as it used to be. He didn't quite like the room spinning anymore.

"How long until…?"

"How long before you leave?" He was scaring himself with how angry he sounded.

She stayed absolutely still as she stared at him. "You… you want me to go?"

"Well I certainly don't fucking want you here if you don't want to be here. I'm not fucking holding you prisoner."

Too far. He was going too far. He took a deep breath, telling himself to calm down, and bought the bottle back to his lips.

Her eyes searched his for a long time, and he defiantly held her gaze. "I don't want to leave, Haymitch."

Vulnerable. Her voice almost held a plea.

She must have heard it, because she cleared her throat. "But I certainly won't stay where I'm no longer welcomed."

"No longer welcomed?" Haymitch snorted. "Don't give me that bullshit. I'm not making you leave. _You're_ the one who told the boy you missed the Capitol. So go. No one's making you stay."

"I… the Capitol?" She stared at him as if he were crazy, like he'd finally lost it, until it clicked in her mind. He saw the realization, the understanding, in her eyes, and in the way her mouth formed the perfect circle, as if to say, 'Oh.'

"Yah. I fucking heard you."

And to his surprise, she laughed.

Well he thought his heart had been toyed with enough, so he slammed the bottle down and walked up to her. "What the _fuck_ is so fucking funny?"

" _You_!" And there was nothing funny about the scowl on her face, or the blaze of her eyes.

For a small woman, Effie Trinket was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew it.

"How much did you hear, Haymitch?"

"Wasn't you missing the Capitol enough?"

"You are truly a fool," and her voice was ice. "I wasn't talking about _leaving._ I was _joking_ with Peeta about how _cold_ it gets in the damned District during its winters, you jackass."

It was the curse word that made him realize he was in trouble. He didn't even have time to be shocked. He was just wary.

There was only one other time Effie had cursed at him and it hadn't ended well.

For Haymitch.

"Effie," he said, his voice already apologizing.

"Save it."

She walked away towards the kitchen, opening and slamming cupboards, and he knew he hadn't gotten off easily.

She was going to explode.

Still, his chest loosened a little. She wasn't leaving him. She wasn't sick of him.

He was relieved. Ridiculously relieved.

And then the first glass shattered.

He looked at her just in time to see her hurl a mug at his head.

" _Effie_ ," he snapped out.

"Shut up!" And he did. Because she wasn't rude. Not like him.

Oh God. He was going to die. She was going to kill him.

He'd survived a Hunger Game with two times the Tributes, a Rebellion, and somehow his drinking hadn't forced him to have liver failure. Yet he was going to die at the hands of one hundred pound woman soaking wet because he'd finally pushed her too far.

"You know what? I should leave. I should pack _everything_ —" A plate nearly sliced his head open—"and take my ass _back_ —"A can of green beans came soaring towards his temple—"to the Capitol and _never_ —"This time it was a spoon—"Return again!"

Ducking and dodging he made his way to her, grabbing her and pinning her arms to her side.

"I would calm the fuck down before you make me think I'm in my Games and hurt you."

" _Fuck_ your Games, Haymitch. They're the reason you're so _stupid_." She wrestled out of his grip. "You're the dumbest person I know. You think I'ved put up with you for all these years and then one day I'd really just wake up and decide to go back to the Capitol? It's not that easy! You're ridiculous."

Now she was pacing, throwing her hands in the air as she talked, and he was getting oddly aroused, but also angry.

"You're seriously the most idiotic man on the face of the earth. Even _Katniss_ has figured out that she loves Peeta and that he'd never leave her. Yet here you are, still as clueless as ever, as if I just now told you I wanted to be in the Rebellion. And never mind my capture. Never mind me coming back to 12 a year later. Never mind me saying _I bloody love you_ every chance I get. You _still_ don't get _anything_."

She was crying now, and all he could do was listen. She turned to him, and he knew her tears were angry, not sad.

"You wouldn't know what unconditional love meant even if she showed up broken and bruised on your damned doorstep in the middle of the bloody night, _begging_ to be loved."

That was a slap in the face.

It truly was. Because what she was accusing him of, was not loving her, and that, he couldn't stand for.

" _I_ don't know about unconditional love? _Me_? I fucking fell in love with a fucking _Escort_!" The words tumbled their way out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he cringed.

"You're impossible. The first time you ever said the L word, and it's followed by the most hurtful thing you could ever say to me."

She made to walk passed him but he grabbed her hand.

"Effie, I'm—"

" _Drunk_ ," she finished for him. "I know. And it's something I've accepted about you a long time ago. If my being an Escort still bothers you then I will pack my bags and you will never hear from me again."

"You know it doesn't," he told her, bringing her to him.

"Then don't you _ever_ blow that up in my face again."

He pulled her to him but she didn't hug him back. "I'm sorry. I am. I'm an ass. You know that." Expecting it, he pushed her back to look at her. "I know it doesn't make it right. But I thought you were sick of me."

"I should be," and now her voice was softer. He wiped the tears and kissed her, tenderly, and she responded back after a while.

"We used to enjoy hurting each other," he said, his voice husky. "We always had fun making up."

She smiled at him, and he grew dreadful.

It wasn't a nice smile at all.

"The only thing _you're_ going to enjoy is the couch. And _maybe_ if you're lucky I'll let you back in our bedroom tomorrow night."

He deserved that.

But the promise of there being a tomorrow allowed him to sleep just as peacefully as if she were by his side.


	9. Rock, Paper, Scissors

_I thought of my own prompt in my head LOL: three times Haymitch told Effie to shut up in front of Tributes that also shows the progression of their relationship._

 **ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS**

 **Rated T for safety. Mostly K**

 **Rock (Rock hard)**

They sat around the table, Effie chatting nonstop about nonsense with their Tributes—her _first_ Tributes. They were two flimsy little things, both of them, and they wouldn't stand a chance in the Arena. They'd never make it passed Cornucopia. Not in a million years and not with a million Sponsors.

He took a sip of his liquor—God the stuff was becoming more and more amazing with each sip—and decided that the quicker he got trashed, the quicker she'd shut up.

They hadn't had a good start to their morning. She'd waltzed into Victor's Village, introducing herself, high heels as tall as the nearest tree, dress as bright as the sun, blinding him with its orange brilliance.

He had hated her on sight.

And she did nothing to prove to him that she wasn't another stupid clown faced Capitol.

"Now Haymitch, of course, won his Games—"

Where she was going with that, nobody would ever know.

"Shut up," he snapped coldly, and Effie paused, shocked, midsentence. "If you value your stupid little privileged life, you will never mention my Games again."

He stared at her coldly and watched as her blue eyes went from shocked to rock hard.

If she weren't a Capitol puppet it'd have impressed him.

"I can respect that," she said in her clipped Capitol tone, "If you would kindly remember that telling me to shut up is quite _rude_."

He threw back the rest of his drink, slamming the glass against the table, and left without saying another word.

It wouldn't be the first time she had the last word, and it was a nice change of pace to know that she'd keep him on his toes.

If he stayed sober enough to care, which he had no plans of doing.

 **PAPER (Paper-thin)**

Effie smiled at their Tributes, her perfect Capitol mask never faltering.

And the fact that he realized she had a mask shocked him.

She'd slipped up these past few years.

Never on camera. Never at a party. But every now and then, around him, that prim and proper mask fell off, and she'd frown.

As far as he knew she was the only Escort who'd ever cried over a dead Tribute. It'd shocked him so much after she'd lost the first pair that he forgot to be a complete jerk to her. He didn't do anything crazy like comfort her, nor did he think about it. He just stared. And then he laughed at her all the way to his room where he packed up to leave.

When she sent their current Tributes off to bed she immediately sighed, her smile faltering.

"What's your problem?" he asked, though he wasn't sure why he did. He was pretty sure that in seven years of working with her he'd never asked her that question before.

"I'm just tired, Haymitch." It was innocent enough, but it was the _way_ she said it that had his body jerking.

"Shut up," he said coldly. "You have no right to be tired. Don't you only work hard a few weeks out of the year? I imagine it can't be too difficult to pick two names out of a bloody glass bowl and sentence kids to their deaths."

A paper-thin line formed itself on Effie's face.

"Are you finished?" asked Effie, quite detached.

The Capitol mannequin was back.

He would have scowled and kept going had it not been for the betraying tears shining in her bright blue eyes—and when the hell had they become _bright_?

He watched her walk away and then stop abruptly. "Canwarn, I thought you were in bed!" He nearly growled at how happy and chipper she was.

"I can't sleep," the little boy said, and Haymitch watched as she broke character, briefly letting her shoulders sag.

When she walked away, he actually felt something in his chest, and in the pit of his stomach, that felt ridiculously like guilt.

 **SCISSORS (Deep cut)**

Effie nervously clicked her manicured nails against the table.

"I just don't like it," she said softly to Cinna and Portia. "They're children, they shouldn't be—"

" _Shut up_." Haymitch saw the way her back went up and then cool Capitol blue eyes rested on him. "They're _not_ kids, and if the boy brings her peace, let her bloody be."

She stared at him for several moments, her eyes blazing.

She was the only person he knew that literally went toe to toe with him on _everything_.

"It's not _proper_ Haymitch. Neither one of them are in their right minds, and if they're doing what I think they're doing—"

"No one cares what you think they're doing. After everything they've been through, they're old enough," he spat out. "And don't talk to me about proper when your kind lay on their backs day in and day out just for the hell of it."

"Haymitch," sighed Cinna, and Haymitch turned his eyes to their designer.

His eyes darted to Portia who had a scowl on her face.

"What? It's true. The Capitol is full of whores. Katniss just wants comfort, damn it, and the boy gives her that. She doesn't sleep as badly with the nightmares. I'm sorry the three of you don't know what that's _effing_ like—"

"Don't you _dare_ ," snapped Effie, rising. "I've known you for twenty years and I've watched you lie to yourself every single day that we're in each other's presence. But don't you _dare_ lie to my face as if you don't know I can't sleep. As if you don't know their faces haunt my dreams."

"Effie," Portia said softly, also standing and walking over to their Escort.

"Just shut up," said Haymitch, and he didn't know why he was saying these things. "You're the damned Escort. It should be all 'Happy Hunger Games' with you. You don't have the right—"

The shock of the slap echoed throughout the room, and damn it hurt, but it was nothing in comparison to the deep cut—the wound—in her eyes.

In twenty years she'd never slapped him before.

And in twenty years he was quite positive he'd never seen her cut so deep by his words.

When Effie left to her room, she never saw Peeta slide back into Katniss' room.

Later, much later, Haymitch made his way to Effie's room, a bottle in his hand.

"I didn't mean it," he told her, facing her in her mirror.

"I know," said Effie softly as she unpinned her wig.

"It's the bleeding Victory Tour and all the bloody memories—literally and figuratively."

Again, a quiet, "I know."

She'd been crying, he could tell, and he was afraid to move towards her. Understanding, she waved him in. He closed the door and made his way to her as she stood, still facing her mirror, and how he set his bottle down and his arms found their way around her waist, and his face into her neck, he'd never know.

"I know," she soothed, locking her fingers in his hair.

That always calmed him.

"I hate this tour. I hate it. So much death being celebrated." The words were mumbled against her throat and they nearly sent a shiver up her spine.

When his lips started leaving trails of kisses she relaxed in his arms for the first time.

"Let the kids be," he whispered. "Let them get as much peace as they can, while they can."

She turned around and nodded, unbuttoning his shirt. "They have to take what they can get for as long as they can."

His hands found their way to her hair—her _real_ hair—and then his lips found their way to her mouth.

"They have to—"

"Shut up," he growled, but this time for an entirely different reason.

This time, it didn't hurt when he said it.


	10. Pleased

_I've read a few Effie fics where she always had some sort of arch nemesis and I found them hilarious, so I thought I'd take a shot at trying it._

 **PLEASED**

 **Rated K**

Cinna smiled as he sat on the couch, amused at Effie's bristling, muttering, and scorned frown.

"Are you going to tell us what's wrong or should we guess?" asked Portia, also smiling and sitting next to Cinna.

Effie huffed as she paced, finally facing them. "It's that damned Coral Axelwood," she said, and Cinna and Portia shared amused glances.

"Is that who you're all worked up about?" Haymitch said. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink as he sat in a chair nearest the bar.

"What, District 6's Escort?" Cinna asked.

" _Yes,"_ hissed Effie. "She drives me mental."

"Why? What'd she do now?" Haymitch asked.

"Now?" asked Cinna.

"Yah," Haymitch snorted. "There's always something with those two every year, and it's always overly ridiculous."

"Sounds like a story," smiled Portia. "Do tell."

Effie shook her head and kept pacing. "I do _not_ want to talk about it."

"You know what, I actually want to hear about it." Effie stopped pacing and stared at Haymitch. "I do. You've been my Escort for nineteen bloody years and you get into it every year with her, at least once. What's the deal with you two?"

Effie frowned. "We were best friends, once," Effie said with a small sigh. Haymitch stared at her in surprise. "It's true. But we were also always rivals. I think we inherited that from our fathers. They were always competing against each other too. I don't know why they even introduced us."

Effie shook her head. "We grew up together. Same neighborhood. Went to the same schools all our lives. At one point I think we were genuine friends. And then I got into modeling, and things slowly started to change. Suddenly we weren't hanging out as much and I was traveling all around the Capitol shooting and working the runways. By the time we got to high school she hated me.

"I remember being blind sighted. I _liked_ her. She was someone I knew—I thought—had liked me for me. Everybody who wanted to be my friend only wanted to do so because I was famous. She never cared, or so I thought. She never asked me for tickets to a fashion show or asked me to borrow the latest designer's clothes…. None of that.

"What I did notice was that she started doing what I did, dressing how I dressed, or talking how I talked. And I hated it. I just wanted to be me. If I did my hair one way one day, she'd have the same hairstyle the next day. If I wore blue shoes one day, she wore them the next. She never wanted me to have my moment…."

"Sounds like she was jealous," Haymitch said honestly.

Effie shrugged. "Maybe."

"Clearly," emphasized Cinna.

"She only liked things I liked. Like she never had a crush on you, Haymitch, until I told her about mine."

Haymitch started in his seat, nearly spilling his drink. "A _crush_?"

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Don't kid yourself, Haymitch. I mean _Victor_ you, not current you. Though current you isn't half bad, at least I don't think he is. Who can tell with all that caveman hair hiding half your face?"

Cinna snickered and Portia giggled while Haymitch scowled.

Effie continued. "Anyway, everybody knew Haymitch was very much my boyfriend in my head—" Effie ignored the laughs from Cinna and Portia— "And do you know that girl had the nerve to steal my poster of you and tape it to _her_ locker like I wouldn't recognize my own bloody picture?" She started pacing again. "But I got her back, see. I stole her best friend. And then the following year she stole my boyfriend, and that was the final straw. I didn't even care that _he_ would do that to me. We'd only been dating a few weeks. But Coral? I'd known her my whole life, and I thought we were better than that. It's been war ever since."

Effie stopped pacing and smiling. "Ah, but I got the last laugh. I became an Escort first. My father put in a good word for me. And what District was I given but 12, with Haymitch Abernathy himself as the last Victor? Coral was beside herself with envy."

"And then he turned out to be a drunk, and the laughing stock of Panem," Haymitch said, toasting his glass in the air.

Effie stared at him. "You're not the laughing stock of Panem," said Effie quietly.

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"You're not. Of _course_ there are people who _talk_ and judge. People who don't know your story. People who are too _stupid_ to find out. But I can't tell you how many people ask for you every year. Most of the Escorts want to know what it's like to work with you. They think you're mysterious because you don't buy into the Capitol's BS or suck up to them like other Victors. And they think you're devilishly handsome. At least they think you are. Again, who can tell with the beard? I mean honestly, would it kill you to shave? I'm beginning to think you're afraid of the razor, which makes no sense, because you sleep with a bloody knife. Anyway…."

Effie started pacing, not at all realizing that Haymitch had frozen in his chair, and missing the pointed look Portia and Cinna shared.

She talked about Haymitch with such fondness sometimes.

"Coral was terribly upset that I got 12, but then she got 6, and she acts like she won some sort of prize or something. She's beside herself this year, thanks to your designs, Cinna. She couldn't say anything about our Tributes, but she certainly had a few _rude_ things to say about Haymitch, which then it turn made me have to get rather rude to her in return."

Cinna laughed. "What'd you tell her?"

" _That_ is neither here nor there. But I certainly do hate making a scene."

"You never have before," commented Haymitch. "And I've never quite seen you so upset."

"Well she can say whatever she bloody hell wants to about me. But no one gets to insult my Victor except me. Now _please_ go and clean up and get ready for the Interviews. You've wasted enough time drinking."

"I was listening to your story, woman."

"Excuses, excuses," she chided as she made her way down the hall.

Haymitch left to his own room, confused as to why he felt pleased.


	11. Love and War

_Decided to do my first song fic, like ever, because every song in the world pretty much reminds me of Hayffie. The song I chose is Tamar Braxton's Love and War. I forced myself to only do 100 words. It was torture._

 **LOVE AND WAR**

 **Rated M mainly for language**

 _Somebody said every day, was gon' be sunny skies,_

 _Only Marvin Gaye and lingerie, I guess somebody lied_

He'd never seen her in lingerie before, and he never thought he would. Before the war they just fucked. Normally all clothes were on. Pants were pushed down, and skirts were hiked up.

After the war she hated her scars, and tried to hide them, so even though it was gentler, kinder, tenderer, he still never got the chance to explore her body.

It didn't matter how sunny it was outside. There was always a storm brewing between them. They were a tropical storm apart, and together they were a hurricane.

Destructive.

But the eye of the storm?

Worth it.

 **XxXxXx**

 _We started discussin' it to fightin' then "Don't touch me, please."_

 _Then it's "Let's stop the madness, just come lay with m_ _e."_

They fought like cats and dogs, and he blamed _her_ for getting him into this mess, because before her he never had anyone to remind him what it meant to actually fucking _feel_ something.

She made his blood boil, in all the wrong places, and in all the right ones.

They argued.

God, could they argue.

But boy, could they make up too.

It was toxic, what they were, but they couldn't help it. They were opposites in every sense of the word, yet they _worked_. Because when they had the worst arguments, it provided the best sex.

 **XxXxXx**

 _And truth be told I'm wavin' my flag_

 _Before it goes bad_

 _'Cause we made it this far on for better or worse_

 _I wanna feel it even if it hurts_

 _If I gotta cry to get to the other side, let's go 'cause we're gon' survive_

At some point boundaries were put in place.

Whether it happened before the war or after the war he didn't know, though he suspected before. He just knew one day he found it ridiculously easy to not cross that invisible line.

They had feelings.

Feelings that could hurt.

And they could get angry at each other, but they couldn't hurt each other.

The days of broken bottles or slapped cheeks eventually passed, and they realized there could be anger one moment and tenderness in the very next breath.

Because there's nobody else they'd rather fight and make up with.

 **XxXxXx**

 _We stay on the front lines_

 _Yeah but we're still here after the bomb drops_

 _We go so hard we lose control_

 _The fire starts then we explode_

 _When the smoke clears we dry our tears_

 _Only in love and war_

He lost count of how many fights they had over the years.

Earth shattering fights.

Ground breaking fights.

Most people knew when to get out the way. People had learned to stop butting in.

It was personal.

It was _always_ personal.

And when there were things that were left unsaid, they started saying it with their bodies, which only made them fight harder because the thought that they were in a war with each other was mind-boggling.

The thought that they were in a war that would eventually allow people like them to love each other wasn't ever said.

 **XxXxXx**

 _Sometimes you're my general, you quarterback all these plays_

 _Sometimes you're my enemy and I'm throwin' grenades_

She never listened, and that was part of the bloody problem. He was the Alpha Male but she was the Queen of her Castle. Every now and then she'd let him rule, but mostly she was in charge.

It was a fucking slap in the face that she, in all of her ninety-pound glory, could control him.

Yet he dominated in areas of verbal abuse and broken hearts, until she was near tears, and he'd force her to him, running his fingers though her hair.

They went from enemies to friends to lovers, no matter how many shots were fired.

 **XxXxXx**

 _We'll just be chillin' and laughin', I'm layin' on your chest_

 _Don't know what happened 'cause things just went left_

 _But here we go back down that road_

 _That's just the way that it goes_

 _'Cause we made it this far on for better or worse_

 _I wanna feel it even if it hurts_

 _If I gotta cry to get to the other side, as long as you're there I'll survive_

They never had a day they just _relaxed_. Even after the war, when she'd moved to 12, knocking on his door in the middle of the night, they still fought every single day. She could literally be hugging him one minute and fighting him the next.

Yet it never got old.

Threats of them leaving the other quickly fell on deaf ears.

They were a team, damn it, and that would never change.

They had made a promise.

A vow.

For better or worse, in a simple toasting with the kids.

He found that it wasn't even hard to ask.

 **XxXxXx**

 _We stay on the front lines_

 _Yeah but we're still here after the bomb drops_

 _We go so hard we lose control_

 _The fire starts then we explode_

 _When the smoke clears we dry our tears_

 _Only in love and war_

War would always haunt them.

The decisions made, and the consequences of those decisions—him leaving her behind, unintentionally allowing her to be tortured—haunted them in their dreams.

But boundaries….

Boundaries never forced them to accuse. They had one discussion, and he apologized.

She's satisfied, yet her nightmares were his constant punishment.

She didn't blame him, but he blamed himself, and they argued about it for years, until she reminded him they had been at war, and that they should blame Snow.

It was the past, but how could she fucking say that when she still woke up screaming?

 **XxXxXx**

 _As long as we make up after every fight when it's over_

 _You know I'm comin' home right there where I belong_

 _I'm takin' off this armor_

It took him forever to understand that she had really forgiven him.

It was in the way he was allowed to comfort her after a nightmare.

The way she allowed him to _finally_ make love to her.

The way she'd opened herself to him, allowing him to see her scars.

And he found out he loved her when he finally locked away his knife.

In he way her body provided comfort like the way a bottle never could.

She tasted ten times better than the finest whiskey.

Truthfully she _was_ the finest whiskey, strong, defiant, dignified, and spicy yet sweet.

 **XxXxXx**

 _And we stay on the front lines_

 _Yeah but we're still here after the bomb drops_

 _We go so hard we lose control_

 _The fire starts then we explode baby_

 _When the smoke clears we dry our tears_

 _Only in love and war_

 _Only in love and war_

 _Only in love and war_

Lust bought them together.

Love kept them together.

Hearts had been broken, bruises had been left, tears had been cried, yet they _made it_.

The war hadn't defeated them, try as it may.

It had nearly destroyed them, but somehow, together, they'd picked the pieces back up.

They couldn't fix themselves, but they fixed each other.

They didn't make sense.

They worked backwards.

Instead of for better or worse it was worse to better.

No one understood it.

The drunkard and the Escort.

The _former_ drunkard and the _former_ Escort.

But all is fair.

Only in love and war.

 _I've decided I hate this one, but I'm going to post it anyway. Worked too hard on it not to._

 _In OTHER news… I've got two stories in mind. Are y'all ready for your mind to be blown? Do I have any Harry Potter fans out there? Cus I'm definitely the biggest Harry Potter fan in all of the world. Like ever. Promise. SO I'm going to do a short story that have Hayffie! I can't wait to bridge the gap between the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and the horrors of the Hunger Games. I was supposed to do a crossover story with Everlark in the HP universe, but I got sick of Everlark, so I scratched it. I WILL face my HP/HG fantasies with Hayffie, though._

 _AND I plan to do A Panem Christmas Carol. Y'all I'm SO excited for this one. I'm pretty sure it hasn't been done, though I haven't read EVERY Hayffie fic out there. Again, if you see it posted before mine, know they got the idea from me lol._

 _Lastly, I'm almost done with those prompts I'm working on. I haven't forgotten about anyone in my inbox._

 _Let me know what you think, and a story line you want me to do. I'm thinking about getting a Tumblr but… I'm not sure. What do you all think? Let me know._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_


	12. Panem Today, Tomorrow, & Forever

_Prompt: the first time Haymitch figured out Effie was in on the Rebellion_

 _A/N: I debated with this for a while, because there are so many different scenarios in my head. In most of my fanfics Cinna recognizes how Effie feels (not that Haymitch didn't know, he just chose to ignore it) so Cinna's the one who tells Effie. That just seems more realistic in my mind. However, I wanted to do something differently, so I hope I did you justice, Guest._

 _Also I got a tumblr, (thamockingjayandpeeta) but I've no bloody clue how to work it LOL._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **PANEM TODAY, PANEM TOMORROW, PANEM FOREVER**

 **Rated K**

He walked into the living room, intent on grabbing a drink, and stopped dead in his tracks.

He wondered, briefly, if he _had_ fallen asleep, even though he never slept at night if he could help it, only never in nineteen years he had never had a dream about Effie Trinket. Yet what else could this be? His Escort was in the living room, dressed in the same stupid outfit as before, but her wig had disappeared and her face was bare.

In twenty years he'd never seen her like this.

He'd never come close.

She must have sensed his presence because she looked up at that moment. She looked _exhausted_ without all that cake on her face, but… younger. Vulnerable. Soft. Kind. Having her face nude actually drew attention to her blue eyes, and they were quite stunning, really. Breathtaking almost.

If one was into Capitol marionettes.

Which he definitely wasn't.

Yet his Seam eyes couldn't leave her face, or stop staring at her hair.

Black. Dark black hair that rivaled the darkest night framed her face in soft waves. For the first time Haymitch understood how she had modeled.

He'd discovered all this in a few seconds—that was his job, to take in all that he could in the least amount of time possible, and he was damned good at it. She never needed to know that he was stunned at the way she looked.

"Haymitch, I thought you'd be sleep by now," she said quietly.

He found he still couldn't move.

Effie was seated on the living room couch of the train, several pieces of paper and notecards everywhere. Some were balled up, some were discarded in a neat pile, and she had several of them in front of her. She had the radio playing next to her.

"I could say the same thing about you," said Haymitch finally, and he found himself relieved that he could talk. He'd been worried that she had rendered him speechless.

"I've been up all night rewriting these bloody speeches," she confessed to him with a sigh.

"Looks like it," he snorted, and she frowned at him.

He gave her three seconds, and sure enough, she gasped and her hands made their way to her hair and her face. She flushed, and _that_ did things to him that he wasn't quite ready to succumb to, so he immediately made his way to the bar, waving away her discomfort.

"Relax, Sweetheart," muttered Haymitch, pouring himself a drink. "No one's here but me, and you look ten times better like this than you ever did in that stupid wig and shit on your face."

He frowned into his drink as he realized what he had just said.

"Well of course you think that, you don't know any better," responded Effie, but the voice she was using…. She was humoring him, giving him a way out.

He took it. Immediately.

"Yes, my District and their barbarism." He took his drink and started walking away, intent on heading back to his room, only his feet had a brain of their own and took him to the armchair next to her.

He frowned again.

"You should go to bed, Haymitch. The sun's up, and you need a few hours of sleep. I need you on your toes in case we have a repeat of what happened in 11."

His frown deepened as he thought about the day's events. It was funny, because the only two people he really had to worry about were Katniss and Peeta. Effie had shown him a strength he hadn't even known she possessed, and Cinna and Portia were Rebels. They were prepared.

Haymitch was confused, though, because things weren't adding up. It was the way she was calm, cool, and collected when the gunshot rang out, but then she was all hysterical and high-strung as soon as the kids had made an appearance.

It was off. All of it was off.

The way she and Cinna kept whispering in the corner, frowns on their faces, worry in her eyes.

Worry.

Not fear.

And then soon as the kids were around it was constant complaining and fretting and superficial BS that had him narrowing his eyes.

"What are you redoing the cue cards for?" he asked her after a bout of silence.

"Because they're not _believable_ ," said Effie as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But there was something else in her voice, something he couldn't quite place.

"Well I don't understand why you can't just make somethin' up." He shrugged and she sighed, placing her hands over her eyes.

She really did look tired. "It's not that simple, Haymitch." Her voice was soft, but with a hint of annoyance weaved throughout it.

"How hard is it to write a few cards about your beloved Capitol?"

She whipped her head to him so fast that he was surprised she didn't get whiplash.

"Don't," she snapped, and he actually sat back to put some space between them at the angry look in her eyes.

Defensive, he scowled at her. "Don't what?" he snarled. "Don't your kind have a plethora of stupid little sayings like 'Happy Hunger Games' and 'May the odds be ever in your favor?' Or something equally stupid like 'May Snow always Reign' or some other bullshit propaganda?"

"Stop it," and it was the plea in her voice that had him choking on his words. He looked at her for a long time, and she looked back at him defiantly.

"Is there somethin' you wanna say to me, Trinket? Cus it seems like you got a chip on your shoulder, and I can tell you I'm not in the bloody mood for it. I haven't had nowhere near enough to drink yet."

"Why? Because you're on your first Victory Tour since your own? Because it's probably _torture_ being here?" She stood up suddenly, never ceasing her monologue. "And to top it off, you can't even really drown yourself in a bottle, because Districts are _finally_ Uprising and Rebelling, and you're doing everything in your power to keep those kids safe. And you sit there, with that stupid shocked face, as if I've just punched you in the gut, because even after twenty years you think I'm too _stupid_ to get it. You think it's _still_ fun and games for me. You think I _like_ pulling out children's names every bloody year, sending them off to their tragic deaths. And what's even _worse_ is that you think I don't get what those berries have done. Like I don't know what it means."

Her eyes were swimming with tears as she paced, but she stopped and rounded on him.

"I _hate_ being an Escort, Haymitch, probably as bloody much as you hate being a Victor. It's all _so_ very tiring. I have to write these stupid cue cards knowing our Tributes don't mean a word they say. They have to fake a love story and prove to the President of Panem that they're really in love, or else they're going to be _killed_. I _know_ how this story ends. I care about them, Haymitch. I've cared about them _all_. You know I still remember their names? Every single name I've picked I remember them _all_. They haunt my dreams, my memories…. And I'm supposed to write these cards expressing these feelings I don't even _believe_. So don't say _anything_ to me about the Capitol being my 'beloved.'"

He stared at her, his mouth open, and his heart pounding.

This was dangerous. They shouldn't be having this conversation. Yet she'd never raised her voice—and that was definitely a feat, because she was always loud—and he could barely hear her over the radio, so it's not like anyone had picked up anything.

And then it hit him.

He glanced at the radio, and his surprised eyes locked with hers, full of fury.

"Starting to put it together, huh? The radio's on. The radio's _always_ on. I never know when I might slip."

She walked back to the couch and sat down heavily.

Her hands were shaking as she gathered her notes.

"Effie—"

What was he about to say? What could he say? He was stunned stupid.

"Forget it, Haymitch," sighed Effie. "It doesn't matter. Just know it's not easy. None of this is. I have to think of twelve different ways to explain why I love the very country I hate with those stupid sayings you were talking about. I have to force my Tributes to read cards, professing their love to a man who hates them with his soul. And I have to make it believable. Because their lives aren't the only ones on the line, Haymitch." She gathered the rest of her things and stood up. "There's Cinna. Portia. Mine. _Yours_." She looked him in the eyes. "As bloody pathetic as it is."

He couldn't wrap his head around her words.

"Do you even care? Do you know I've thrown up three times tonight while writing these cards? My head is literally about to burst open. I am _tired_. So tired. There are so many lies. You want to hear my favorite line? I wrote it about an hour ago. I wrote a line that our darling Mockingjay has to say that literally made me sick to my stomach. That girl has to look into a crowd of people and say,

"'Panem today.

"'Panem tomorrow.

"'Panem forever.

"I wonder if she'll notice the way my hands started shaking when I wrote that. I had to write it twice. The first time the tears smudged all the words. But it's fine. I'll just put back on my Capitol mask because it makes you more comfortable. But for God's sake _stop_ looking so surprised. We've worked together for twenty years, and I'll give it to you. You probably don't remember half of the conversations we've had when you were drunk out of your mind. But you pick up everything. Your eyes see everything. Except me. Never me. And I don't even know why that hurts."

She walked towards the door, and he still hadn't said anything.

He literally thought he'd lost his ability to speak.

At the door she turned and stopped. "I don't even hate you. It'd be much easier to, but I don't. I don't blame you either. I blame Panem. Because I'm the Escort, and you're the Mentor, so you're supposed to despise me. Just understand the words I write… they're to keep us alive. They have no meaning. _Especially_ words that talk about keeping Panem the way it is. _Nothing_ disgusts me more than _that_."

Haymitch sat there for another hour, dumbfounded. When he finally stood up he switched off the radio.

When Katniss did say those words, later on during the tour, he felt Effie tense beside him.

He laid a gentle hand on the small of her back, and she leaned into him.

" _Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever_."

He nearly snorted.

Not if he could help it.


	13. I Put A Spell On You

_Prompt: Hey! Love your stories. Can I see a story about Hayffie's first kiss? But not in a fight or in anger. Something kind of sweet? I'm in the mood for fluff_.

 _A/N: Kind of out of my comfort zone. Can't see Hayffie having a sweet first kiss. I always pictured anger, alcohol, and resentment, and then it turning into something more. Nevertheless, I tried my best. Hope you all enjoy._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **I PUT A SPELL ON YOU**

 **Rated M for language**

He found her in the Mayor's backyard, sitting near the pool. He didn't know if he was more pissed off or relieved. He'd been looking for her for a good thirty minutes, wondering where she had gone off to.

Or if she'd been forced to go somewhere against her will with all these trigger-happy Peacekeepers.

Yet here she was, apparently not at all in any danger.

Never mind his bleeding heart.

And when he saw her sitting on the concrete, in her fancy Capitol dress, staring up at the night sky, his anger turned to worry.

This certainly wasn't very _proper_.

"Why aren't you at the Dinner, hovering over the kids?" She must have been lost in thought because she jerked at his voice, her head whipping around.

"Haymitch, you very nearly gave me a heart attack," gasped Effie, dramatically holding her hand over her chest.

He smirked at her. "You'd never let me off that easily, Princess."

She didn't bother with restraint. She bluntly rolled her eyes and turned away.

Capitol Effie would never do that, he knew.

What he didn't know was who _this_ Effie was.

He'd seen her appear every now and then over the years, but never as much as she had over the past few months.

He dropped down next to her, a bottle of wine and a wine glass in his hand. He poured her a full glass and kept the bottle for himself. She grabbed the glass with a soft thank you and took a dainty sip.

He watched her out the corner of his eye for several moments.

"Honestly, Haymitch, why don't you just take a picture? It's quite _rude_ to stare."

So much for being discreet.

Yet she didn't sound upset. Just amused.

He gave a smirk.

"What are you doing out here? And why are you hiding?"

"Are you going to tell me why you're staring at me?" she counter argued.

He shrugged. "You surprised me today, is all. You kept your cool." He stared at her. " _Really_ well."

"What, was I supposed to be a damsel in distress?"

"You seem like the type," he told her, taking a sip of his wine.

"Well then you don't really know me, even after nearly twenty years." There was a hint of resentment in her voice that he wasn't sure should really belong there.

He frowned at her. "I guess I don't." She stared back at him and he felt the desire to change the topic. "Besides, it's not easy trying to figure out which one of your fifty personalities is the real you anyway."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "You're a royal pain," she told him, attempting to hide the affection in her voice.

She wasn't sure she quite succeeded.

"At least I'm royal," he said. "That's an upgrade from insufferable drunk."

"Well I suppose you are a Victor. That makes you somewhat of a king."

Haymitch smiled, amused. "Why thank you, Princess," he said, and this time it was his turn to roll his eyes.

She sighed and surprised him even more by falling back, resting her hands around her head, and staring up the sky again.

"Aren't the stars beautiful?" she breathed.

He stared at her and then glanced up at the sky. "They're okay."

She paused. "You can't see the stars in the Capitol."

"No shit. All the smoke and fucking mirrors," he snorted bitterly, taking a drink.

"When we die, do you think we become stars?" It was like she hadn't even heard him.

His entire body jerked at her question and he stared at her, this unknown sense of dread working its way down to his stomach.

He didn't understand why.

"What are you talking about, Trinket?" Haymitch tried but he was pretty sure that he didn't hide the panic in his voice.

She sighed softly and sat back up, resting on her elbows. Her Capitol blue eyes stared into his Seam grey eyes, and she gently bit her lip.

She was debating something.

Whatever it was he hoped she would hurry up and speak, because the way she was biting her lip had his heart pounding.

Reminding him that he was very much alive.

Most of the time only she could do that.

Make him feel alive.

He was pretty sure he hated her for it.

"Let's dance," she suggested softly, and he understood that that wasn't what she had wanted to say, which made him wonder what she wasn't telling him. She'd been acting so different lately. He couldn't quite figure it out, and it was puzzling him, because at one point he thought he _did_ know her.

She was a Capitol dummy just like the rest of them.

Only she wasn't. Not always.

She was different.

She fretted over him.

Chidden him.

Cleaned up after him.

Bailed him out of Capitol jail on more than one occasion.

And she never gave up.

Not on him.

Not on their Tributes.

And today… today, the way she hadn't even screamed when the gunshot rang out kept playing over and over again in his head. She had tensed, sure, but when he had made to grab her and give her to Cinna—and the fact that he'd been worried about her first, before Katniss even was a punch to the gut—she had walked off, towards the door.

She was going to make sure their Victors were okay.

The peacekeepers had stopped them, and he'd grabbed her hand to lead her back towards Cinna and Portia.

She'd gripped his hand like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

He realized he hadn't answered her, not that she was asking.

They didn't do that.

Ask each other anything.

They demanded.

Told.

Expected.

Her request hung in the air, and a light blush crept up her cheeks—well he supposed it wasn't so light, if it were showing through her overly done face.

She sighed again and looked away.

He took another long drink of the wine, and he blamed it on the alcohol that suddenly the music seemed ten times louder than it had a few moments ago.

Before he knew what was happening he stood up. "Are we gonna dance or not?"

He found himself holding his breath as she stared at him, clearly surprised, but finally she outstretched her hand and he helped her up.

The atmosphere changed immediately at her touch.

Drastically.

Sparks flew.

It was electric.

He felt his throat go dry when she stood face to face with him, so when he remembered the glorious art of knowing how to talk he made sure he said something incredibly rude.

"How much does that damn dress weigh?" he asked her.

It didn't break the spell—not that there was a spell.

It was the music. The stupid music was making his brain fuzzy.

Or it was the wine.

The wine put these silly thoughts in his head, and made his breath catch in his throat when he finally placed his hands on her hips.

"You could just say how you really feel, and just say I look pretty." She'd said it so calmly, so surely, that he forgot how to speak again.

And then he saw the amusement, the smile in her eyes, and he relaxed, giving her his signature smirk.

She was teasing him.

Teasing he could deal with.

Even the flirting, every now and then.

Nothing else.

Nothing more.

Like there was no point in telling her that she wasn't pretty tonight, but bloody beautiful. Cinna had kept it simple with her dress. The designer had stuck with 11's theme of agriculture, so Effie wore a long, silk metallic olive green dress that shimmered with gold, hugging all her curves and flaring out at the bottom. Even her makeup was lighter, though her wig was more extravagant than ever.

It made him want to rip it off her head to see what color hair she really had.

And why it even crossed his mind made him realize this was a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

Yet somehow—it was the pull of the music—he gripped her hips a little tighter, sliding his hands to the small of her back, and pulled her a little closer. He ignored the hitch in her breathing.

It was the kind of moment most women would swoon over.

It seemed romantic.

Amazing.

Perfect.

Special.

Fucking _magical_.

Something out of a fairytale.

The moment when two people fell in love, if she wasn't already there, and if he wasn't well on his way to stopping it from happening. And the worst thing was that she knew that he knew that she was in love with him, but that he refused to reciprocate the feelings.

He _couldn't_ damn it.

So he ignored the way his heart sped up, and way down deep in the darkest part of his soul he understood that it wasn't even about her being a bloody Escort, but about that fact that he had no idea if he'd even be _alive_ at the end of all this.

And this was bloody stupid. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever done, really, aside from dodging that axe in his Games. Because there was a fucking war coming, and now was not the time for false hope and broken promises.

Yet he couldn't quite look away from her gaze, and were they really even dancing to the music, or were the just moving together, in rhythm, and in harmony?

The music stopped. Or maybe it hadn't. Maybe the blood was just pounding in his ears.

They'd definitely stopped moving though, yet they seemed to be in no rush to let go of each other. He didn't remove his hands from her hips, nor did she remove her arms from around his neck. There seemed to be no desire whatsoever for him to stop his thumbs from making small circles on her back, and she didn't much see the point in stopping her hands from running her fingers at the base of his neck.

He was close.

Too close.

Closer than he needed to be.

Way too fucking close.

Yet somehow… someway they were getting closer.

It seemed _natural_ even, the way her face reached up towards his and his head leaned towards her.

One kiss, and the dam broke.

Correction.

 _This_ was the stupidest thing he'd ever fucking done.

He stopped it, almost immediately, and he wished he could ask himself how this had even happened, but technically it'd been happening for _years_ , really, and it'd just be his luck that it all would come to a crash when a war was most likely to begin any bloody minute now.

He wasn't surprised, just disappointed that in the end he'd have to hurt her.

Because of _course_ he'd have to hurt her.

"We can't do this," he said against her lips.

And _that_ broke the spell.

She stiffened in his arms almost immediately and he dropped his hands, turning away from her almost instantaneously.

He reached back down for his bottle, noticing his hands were shaking.

"Fucking shit," he snapped.

He thought his heart would fly out of his chest.

He chanced a glance at her, noting she was in the exact same spot he'd left her, and there was a sense of vulnerability radiating from her that broke his heart.

When the fuck did he even get a heart?

He took another longer sip of the wine, wishing it was something stronger. _Anything_ stronger.

She walked up to him, and he was captivated. He didn't know if it was the moonlight, the stars, the soft breeze, the fucking dress, or what. He just knew he couldn't move an inch, and all he wanted to do was runaway.

"Thank you for the dance," she said softly, and her eyes were dry, her voice firm.

He wouldn't break her.

She turned to leave, and he told himself it was the right thing.

So _why_ his legs carried him over to her he'd never understand, remember, or fathom.

"Fucking shit," he repeated, grabbing her and spinning her to him.

His lips were back on hers before he was even aware of what he was doing. She'd cast a spell on him. That's the only thing he could think of. He was mesmerized. It was the tingling he got all over his body.

From a fucking _kiss_.

Where was his manhood? His ability to walk away?

Gone, apparently.

He rested his hands back on her hips, growling, and slowly pushed her away. "We really fucking can't," he told her, resting his head against her forehead.

"I know," whispered Effie, tightening her hold on him. "It's dangerous."

"You have no fucking clue."

A simple pause, and then one single question that undid him even more than the bloody kiss.

"Don't I?" His body jerked and he pushed her back to stare at her. "It's all coming to an end, isn't it?" Her voice was soft, as if she'd accepted her fate.

"Effie, I—"

"I want you to stop lying to me," she finally said, a little harshly, and again, his body jerked. "I know a war's coming, Haymitch. I can feel it. The Districts…." She glanced around and then her eyes rested on his again, and they were hard. "They're finally _tired_ of it all, and I can't blame them. If there's anybody in this world in the thick of things, it's you. And you should be. I'd actually be disappointed if you weren't."

He thought it was the kindest thing she'd ever said to him.

"Today…." Effie reached out and touched his cheek, her hands fluttering over his face, and her eyes softened. "Today showed me we probably don't have much time left. So I'll say again: thank you for the dance."

He watched her walk away, shoulders back, chin up.

Always the Escort.

At least on the outside.

Tonight had shown him the beauty of a mask.

And as hers started to slowly come off, he tightened his up. Because she… she was not a part of the plan.

This story wasn't a fairytale.

No matter how magical this moment had been.

 _I failed at the fluff. This was sad LOL._


	14. Go Gentle Into That Good Night

_Saw a prompt asking about Haymitch being gentle with Effie for once, which I moved to the front of the line because it's been in my head for a while. I debated back and forth with myself for quite some time about if Haymitch would have been gentle with Effie before he left for 13, or if he would have waited until post Mockingjay. Then something told me to look up the definition of gentle vs. tender._

 _Gentle:_ _delicate or soft in quality._

 _Tender: kindly; amiable._

 _With that said, I think Haymitch would have been gentle for the first time with Effie before he left for 13, and tender with her post war. So. Here's a story that takes place before Haymitch leaves to 13._

 _**A/N: Title references Dylan Thomas' poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.' If you haven't read it, you don't need to read it to understand this. But it's an amazing poem, and you should read it anyway LOL._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **GOING GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT**

 **Rated M for smut. Obviously**

Haymitch made his way to Effie's room, his heart getting heavier and heavier with every step. He found her in the bathroom, washing off her makeup. Her wig was already gone, placed on top of her vanity, ready for tomorrow's use.

He stared at her, taking in every feature that he could: her soft, luscious, dark red hair that always, _always_ smelled like cherry blossoms, which never ceased to amaze him; her hands, always soft, always delicate, even when she was clawing at his back or slapping him in anger; her shoulders, covered by her nightdress, but he knew every inch of; those arms… those strong arms, more muscular than most people knew, and the way they easily held him, even when half the time he didn't want to be held; and those legs—those long, glorious, gorgeous legs that wrapped themselves way too easily around his waist.

He'd been surprised the first time they did this, because they'd both been completely sober. It'd been a decision that seemed to be in the making for _years_ really. It had just felt _right_ , as wrong as it was.

Nineteen years of built up frustration, pent up anger, and solid dislike, gone in an instant. All it took was for a stubborn girl to threaten Panem with berries, and she and Haymitch broke all the rules that very night on the way back to 12.

They were high off the win, is what they told themselves afterwards. They vowed to never mention it again. It'd probably be the last time anyway, because most likely she'd be promoted now.

The thought had left him cold, angry, and hurt, and those emotions confused him, so he attempted to run and find the nearest bottle, except somehow, someway, his legs turned him back around and pinned her against the wall, again.

" _Mine_ ," he had grunted out possessively as he came, and she had whimpered, clenching around him at the same time.

It'd scared the shit out of him.

He thought the Victory Tour would have been awkward, except shit was so intense no one had _time_ for it to be awkward.

And he just pushed aside the fear he felt in 11, when those gunshots sounded, telling himself he wasn't worried about her. Only Katniss and Peeta.

Things got blurry during the Victory Ball, when they had danced together, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was all out of sorts.

It was fucking Effie Trinket.

Escort.

Beautiful as she was.

Angel of Death.

He drowned himself in a bottle, ensuring himself that he wouldn't touch her that night, and got so trashed he had needed Capitol officials to help him. Yet he still found her way to his room. He had slid into her room, in the dead of night, and slid into her like it was the easiest thing in the world.

The kids' engagement party had been without incident. They'd been in and out of 12 so quickly he barely got a chance to return her shy smile—not that he would have.

And then it really all went to shit the morning of the Quarter Quell Reaping, when she'd showed up to his house earlier than usual, in nothing more than a summer overcoat, naked as the day she was born underneath.

He hadn't gotten a word in edge wise before she waltzed up to him, undid her jacket in front of him, and straddled his lap.

He was lost.

Totally and completely and utterly lost.

He kept it all at bay as much as he could.

Which turned out wasn't much.

And then he'd caught her and Cinna sketching out Katniss' Mockingjay suit and he went weak in the knees.

He'd rather have found them in bed together.

At the realization that she wanted to be apart of the Rebellion—for personal reasons, she had said, not necessarily political, which was fine with him, because it was definitely fucking personal for him too—he made sure that he was always just as brutal as normal with her when they went to bed.

In all the times they'd slept together, he'd never been gentle with her.

Especially in knowing what he knew in regards to the Quell.

The plan.

The plan that would be taking place in a few hours.

She finished washing her face and he was brought back to the present.

He figured he should say something before he startled her half to death, but he was caught up in watching her. She turned towards the shower, untying her nightdress, allowing it to fall like a pool around her feet. Then she slowly turned around, her Capitol eyes dark with want.

"How'd you know I was here?" he asked.

"I could smell you." He arched an eyebrow and she started walking up to him. "I know your scent, Haymitch. You smell like booze, coal, and musk."

He frowned. "I haven't had a single drink all day."

She laughed. It was a real, genuine, true laugh, one he tried to memorize it. "You _always_ smell like booze, even after you shower."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, and he shivered. He pushed her back to look at her, taking in her gorgeous Porcelain skin, her devastating blue eyes, pouty mouth that could work _wonders_ on him, and naturally rosy cheeks.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he told her.

She blushed, prettily. He'd never told her that before. He'd told her that she looked better without all the gunk, cake, and/or shit, or variation of the phrase, but he'd never actually used the word beautiful.

It shocked him how easily it came off of his lips, rolled off his tongue.

He saw it in her eyes, the _look_ , the look that told him everything he needed to know, but for once he didn't look away.

He wondered if she saw the same thing in his eyes.

He doubted it.

He was much better at hiding it from her.

She wasn't the only one who had a mask.

She froze for a moment under the intensity of his gaze, and then licked her lips nervously.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked breathlessly.

He _was_ staring. "Because I'm waiting for you to say thank you for my compliment," said Haymitch with a smirk.

She blushed again. "Oh my God. How terribly rude of me. Thank you."

She was being genuine, and he fucking loved it.

Maybe he loved her, but he couldn't find out.

"Effie," he whispered softly as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt with lightening speed. She either didn't hear him or was ignoring him, and soon she'd ripped the rest of his shirt off.

He grabbed her hands. "Effie," repeated Haymitch, and now she stilled.

His voice was soft. His voice was _never_ soft.

He cupped her cheeks, slowly, and kissed her.

Gently.

It was… perfect was too cliché a word, but that's honestly what it fucking was. Her lips were soft, her tongue sweet, and for once there wasn't a battle of domination between them. She let him lead, and she responded in kind.

Perfect.

Shit he was in deep.

When she sighed, and rested her head against his forehead, she took a hitching breath.

"This is goodbye, isn't it?" she whispered softly. He hadn't expected it to be obvious, and her jerked in her arms. "I know you, Haymitch. I know you to your soul." She stared at him as he said those words, and he realized maybe his mask wasn't as in place as he thought.

He kissed her again to stop himself from thinking about it.

For the first time they made their way to her bed, completely sober.

Normally if he was drunk they _had_ to be in the bed. But if they were both sober, it was always against something, or on top of something, or bent over something.

Not tonight.

He explored. He touched her in places he never had before. He allowed his eyes to wander, and his tongue to do the same.

He had her wet everywhere before he'd even slid himself inside of her.

He ran his fingers through her hair, memorizing its scent.

He kissed every inch of her face—eyes, nose, mouth—and memorized its taste.

He licked the mole on her shoulder.

He traced the old scar on her knee.

And selfishly, he didn't allow her do the same.

Tonight wasn't for her.

It was for him.

He would please her, though.

Slowly.

Agonizingly slowly.

He stared at her as he moved inside of her. He watched her face and vowed to remember every pleasurable moan, so that just in case he made it out of this alive, he could find her and do this with her every day for the rest of their lives.

He noted which spot made her arch her back, and dig her nails into his back, or groan out his name.

And he found out that if he stroked right _there_ she'd cum, softly and delicately.

Her legs didn't relax around him just yet. Instead her hands made their way down and forced him in deeper. He grunted, and sped up, just a little, and he watched her, transfixed, as she started to pant.

When she clenched around him again he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself, and he exploded, emptying himself into her.

When the world stopped spinning he realized her hand was clutched in his.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, and she smiled softly at him.

There were no tears in her eyes.

She'd always been stronger than he ever gave her credit for.

"Would you come with me? If it were an option?" he asked her softly, still on top of her.

She gave him a brilliant smile, almost blinding. "Haymitch there is nowhere in all of Panem I wouldn't go to for you."

It might as well have been and admission of love, and he took it as that. He kissed her again and prayed for a world where a relationship like theirs was okay.

He got up and got redressed, not bothering with his button-up as that was ripped. She watched, her eyes still clear, but she couldn't hide the emotions swirling around in those blue orbs.

He debated between looking back or not when he reached the door.

In the end she made the decision for him.

"Haymitch." Her voice was strong, unwavering.

Fuck he was in deep.

He turned around. "Stay alive."

The words slapped him silly, because it proved her point: she knew him down to his soul.

"Don't cry over me, Princess. I want you to promise me you won't."

She frowned at him and sat up, resting on her elbows.

"It's war. And if I can't stay alive, know I died fighting. Fighting for my family. For my District. For you." He glanced at the television screen. "For them. Know I died for our Mockingjay."

She stared at him. "If… if you can't stay alive, that's how I'd want you to go."

He nodded, gave her his signature smirk, and walked away.

Probably forever.

Because he wasn't afraid of dying.

He was afraid of living.

Living meant heartache and disappointment and hurt.

Dying meant things were changing, or had changed.

His dying wouldn't be in vain.

So as he made his way to the roof, where the hovercraft was sure to be waiting, because he was pushing it awfully close, he smiled, content that she was safe. That she would hurt if he died, yes, but that she'd live in a world where it was easier to love.

And he had no problem going gently into that good night if it meant victory.

 _For some reason this was ridiculously sad, and I don't know what I would have done if Haymitch had died. I'd probably hate Suzanne Collins even more than I already do. Those of you who've followed my stories since Rise From the Ashes know how much I love Haymitch. This feels angsty, and I hadn't meant it to. I'm thoroughly depressed now._

 _But I think it's one of my best stories, if I do say so myself._


	15. Counting Scars

**COUNTING SCARS**

 **Rated T**

The scream got caught in her throat, and she sat up, a loud gasp escaping from her mouth. She quickly covered her mouth with her hands to stop herself from screaming aloud, glancing around.

She was fine. Better than that, she was _safe_. She was in 12, in Victor's Village, in Haymitch's guest room.

 _Haymitch_.

Without even bothering to grab her robe, Effie made her way out of the guest room and down the hall, to Haymitch's room.

She stopped at his door, taking in his sleeping appearance: his silhouette told her that he had fallen asleep on top of the covers. He had one leg dangling towards the floor, the other on the bed. His breathing was sporadic, and she could see the way his fingers twitched.

He was also having a nightmare.

His knife rested on top of his chest.

She wanted nothing more than to climb into bed next to him, but they hadn't crossed that line since she arrived nine months ago.

Apprehension crept her way into the pit of her stomach. She couldn't wake him. It was dangerous.

But it pained Effie to know that she couldn't comfort him, like he had done for her a few time over the past few months.

Suddenly her nightmare didn't seem that bad anymore. So she spent several months in a cold, dark cell. She'd been tortured, sure, but she hadn't killed anybody. Did she really have the right to complain about her own nightmares when after twenty-six years Haymitch still had demons that possessed his mind?

She made her way back to her room and slipped under the covers.

She wouldn't mention anything to him.

The next morning she made her way downstairs. Haymitch was in the kitchen, breaking bread so that he could feed his geese. He turned when he heard her, offering her his signature smirk that still made her stomach flip flop like she was a high school girl.

"You have an okay night?" he asked her gently.

He _always_ asked her that, and normally she was always honest, but after last night, she decided that she was being selfish and would no longer trouble him with her dreams.

She had the lie on her lips, yet she said, "Can I sleep with you?" Her voice had actually wavered, and there was this unusual lump in her throat.

He dropped his bowl of bread as he stared at her, clearly shocked, and she flushed, suddenly embarrassed.

"I didn't mean like _that_. I mean at least not _now_. Soon, maybe. Probably. Most likely. But for now I meant… I mean…."

What _did_ she mean?

"Effie? What's wrong?" Not even glancing at the mess he made he walked up to her, cupping her cheeks and staring into her eyes.

He wasn't being romantic. He was analyzing her.

It was insane how well he could read her.

She wasn't so good at hiding herself from him anymore.

Perhaps she never was.

"You didn't sleep well," he stated, letting her face go. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were having a nightmare," stated Effie. "I _wanted_ to climb in next to you, but your knife was on your chest and I know how overprotective you are."

He opened his mouth, and shut it after several moments. Then he grabbed her by her hips. "If you want to sleep in my bed with me, I'll take care of it."

He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and went back to the kitchen, cleaning up the bread and then heading out to feed the geese.

When he reached the door she said, "And if I want to sleep with you before I fall asleep with you?"

She really needed to go to sleep. It was ridiculous. Her lips were saying things her brain hadn't approved.

He turned and faced her, his eyes searching hers. She blushed, but she didn't want to take the question back.

"Then we can do that too, Princess," he told her with a smirk, and then he was gone, out the door.

That night she locked the guest bedroom door for the first time since her arrival. She showered, and then stood in front of the mirror, soaking wet. She slowly dried herself off but she didn't immediately clothe herself.

She looked at every single scar on her body and made peace with it.

She knew she was pretty. Funnily enough it wasn't Haymitch that had convinced her, but Katniss, who told her so the very first day she had seen Effie without her makeup and wig. Effie had gotten used to her bare face and natural red hair.

But the scars?

She was still having trouble accepting those.

She wasn't one hundred percent sure she'd cross _that_ line with him tonight, but they would cross it. It was in the way they touched each other.

The sexual tension was still there.

So she stared at herself, touching the scars along her body. The Capitol had wanted to clean most of them up, much like they do for Victors, but Effie had said no. She didn't even have that many compared to people like Katniss. Effie had scars along her arms, her shoulders, and her stomach. Most of them would fade with time, she knew, but some would stay forever.

She'd _earned_ those scars.

When she was satisfied that she was okay with the way she looked, she rubbed herself down with lotion and then changed into her nightdress.

Then she made her way to Haymitch's.

She wasn't nervous until their eyes locked.

He was already in bed, a pair of black sweats on along with a grey shirt.

"I wasn't sure if you'd changed your mind or not."

And suddenly, she was relaxed.

"No," she told him, and walked into his room, closing the door behind her.

"Then I'll lock my knife away," said Haymitch plainly.

She walked up to the bed and climbed in like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Which it was.

"Light on or off?" he asked her.

She hesitated, actually unsure. "Off," she finally said.

"If you change your mind, let me know."

"Wait, keep it on." He arched an eyebrow. "I want you to see me."

She started to undo her nightdress but Haymitch stopped her.

"Effie we don't have to."

She kissed him, deeply, slipping on top of him. "Want to bet?" Effie asked gently against his lips. She sat up, straddling him, and his hands found their way to her waist.

She pulled his shirt off of him, and he undid her gown.

She traced his scars with her fingers, counting them, almost like they were stars. A lot of them had faded over the years, like her were sure to do, but several of them were still visible, and would always be.

He watched her, his eyes guarded at first, and then slowly softening.

She wasn't sure what she expected when Haymitch reversed their positions, but having him kiss each of her scars was shocking.

When she thought she knew him, he always surprised her.

Katniss had made her feel pretty.

But tonight Haymitch made her feel beautiful.

Scars and all.

 _This one wasn't a prompt. Came from my own head._

 _Thanks for the Reviews and prompts so far._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_


	16. Their Eyes Were Watching God

" _Love your writing. I really like 50 Shades of Grey. Could you write a similar piece to it or continue it?"_

 _A/N: So I'm a grown ass woman who's terribly afraid of thunderstorms (more so the thunder than the storm) so I moved this prompt up ahead because it's oh so the story of my life, because it's storming right now._

 _Except I have no Haymitch to hold me. Go figure. I didn't make it a sequel necessarily, but it can be considered a continuation. You don't need to read 50 Shades of Grey (Chapter 4) to understand this._

 _The title was taken from Zora Neale Hurston's_ _Their Eyes Were Watching God_. _The point of this title has been debated for several years. For the sake of this story, it's in regards to Man Vs. Nature._

 **THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD**

 **Rated M**

The thunder sounded and Effie stiffened. Haymitch pulled her closer.

"You're okay," he mumbled against her neck, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm here."

She relaxed in his arms and willed herself to fall back asleep. It was just a summer thunderstorm, in 12. Not bombs in the Capitol. She was okay. She was safe. She slipped her hand around Haymitch's, squeezing it softly, and her heartbeat started to return to normal when he squeezed back.

And then another blast had her stiffening again. He gripped her tighter, placing a kiss on her neck, and this time she shivered for an entirely different reason.

The only other time it had stormed this badly in 12, he'd been quite the distraction.

She turned around so that she could face him.

His hair was longer than ever now, but she found she didn't mind as much as she used to. His iron-grey eyes were bloodshot, but from sleepiness, not alcohol. He had a five o'clock shadow that always scratched her cheeks, but she found it more comforting than annoying.

When the thunder clapped into the night he secured his arms around her.

"Go back to sleep, Princess. I promise we're safe." He kissed her forehead and she placed her hand on his chest.

The best feeling in the world was knowing that his heart was beating.

"Haymitch," she whispered. "I want you inside of me."

He stilled. He stopped breathing. He stopped running circles along her back. He just looked at her, reading her eyes in the dark.

So she slid her hand down his pants and groped him.

 _That_ instantly got his blood pumping.

His body jumped and he cursed. She grinned and leaned into him for a kiss, all the while stroking him. He growled when she scraped her teeth against his bottom lip. She deepened the kiss, their tongues taking on an old yet familiar battle of domination.

Her nails scraped against his length and he broke away from her, cursing again.

"If you wanna fucking kill me, just use the knife. It'll hurt less."

"You used to like it like this," responded Effie, not at all fazed, planting assaulted bites on his chest.

His breathing was heavy. "Yah. When I used to hate you."

She pushed him back, pinning him down, and finally removed her hand from inside of his pants and slithered on top of him. She kissed him again, until his body responded on its own accord.

She pulled away and looked at him. His eyes were dark, the color of charcoal, but his face was guarded.

Masked.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't wanna hurt you."

She should have been sympathetic. Touched, even. But the need was too great. So she rolled her eyes and undid her nightdress, tossing it aside. Then she moved down, pushing his pants out of her way.

"I'm not made of glass, Haymitch."

She let her tongue and mouth do most of the work, and then, at the very end, she used just enough teeth to have him gripping her hair.

"Fuck me," he groaned out. It wasn't a demand. More like a declaration of shock.

"Oh I plan to," she smirked.

He grabbed her around her waist and flipped her over so that he was on top.

His mouth started doing things that made her forget how to talk.

Unless it was saying his name. _That_ she could do quite well.

It wasn't much different from the way it used to be. His kisses were hot against her, his fingers brutal, and she recognized some of the guttural moans escaping out of her throat. She came a few times—he'd always had the ability to make her do that. If there was any place Effie Trinket consistently lost control, it was in the bedroom with Haymitch Abernathy.

Outside the storm raged on.

"Cum," he demanded roughly, his voice dark with lust.

She did, on demand, her hips bucking against his fingers.

She wanted to touch him, every part of him, but he had her hands pinned up above her.

He used to do that too, as a form of dominatrix, and then it turned to something more. How long could she go without touching him? How long could he go without being touched? They'd convinced each other it was just a part of their stupid little game, only now, in this very moment, they understood that it was so much more.

This was the first time since the war they'd done it like this.

Brutal.

Demanding.

Hard.

It would be a storm to do so.

When they'd first started, it'd been desperate. Desire for sheer human contact, even if the human was the one you hated the most. Then you start planning a Rebellion together, and war was obvious, so it became less angry and heated.

Now, though, the passion was still there. It was still rough. There'd be bruises on her skin from where he'd gripped her and dug his nails into her flesh. Possessive still, but he was giving her life. Like the rain, and the way it beat down on the earth so that things could grow anew.

There'd be scratches on his back, and teeth marks on his shoulders, like the scratches that'd be on the window from the tree branches.

She wouldn't be able to walk straight for days.

But it was more than that too.

Their eyes stayed locked with each other as their hips met, and though the strokes were violent, his eyes glowed silver.

 _Love_.

His mouth connected with hers, and it wasn't to help the climax, or to silence it, but to add a gentleness, a tenderness to the ferocity of his strokes as he pounded his way deeper and deeper inside of her.

And it was in the way they talked to each other. It used to be harsh words with harsher tones. They could never let the other know that at some point they started to care. But now she whispered out his name, kindly, lovingly, and he didn't recognize the tone he used when he shouted out her name. It was some sort of mixture between awe and reverence.

He'd say her name like a prayer.

He cursed when she clenched around him, and his eyes burning black, spilled himself into her.

The thunder rumbled on.

Afterwards they lay on their backs, breathing hard, their eyes towards the ceiling.

Their hands were locked.

Some might thing they were trying to see the storm up ahead. It had reached their climax around the same time they had, and was slowly dying down.

They hadn't outrun it though, like she had intended.

Man versus nature.

But they weren't thinking about the storm.

No. Their eyes were watching God.


	17. Eyes Wide Shut

_Title is not referencing anything other than a person's inability to see what was right in front of their face._

 _Just something fluffy and a little cheesy. Not my best, but it is what it is._

 _I'm heading HOME tomorrow. I'm SO excited. Of course I'll still be posting. Can't wait to hear from you all._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **EYES WIDE SHUT**

 **Rated K**

He knew that he should go. Time was ticking, and he couldn't be late.

They would leave him. One man wasn't worth the entire mission, all the planning, no matter who that man was.

Yet he still found himself in the living room of their Penthouse Suite of Headquarters, his eyes glued to the television. He knew what had to be done. He even knew how it was supposed to be done. He was just afraid that they wouldn't be able to pull it off.

It's not that he didn't trust his team—he did. He'd been working with most of them for well over a decade. But Haymitch knew better than anybody that planning didn't necessarily mean victory.

The Quarter Quell shifted from his Tributes and Haymitch got a brief glimpse of Chaff.

His oldest friend.

His _only_ friend, really.

Sure, he had allies, but Chaff was someone who understood him.

And he would die tonight.

He was never supposed to make it out of the Quarter Quell and to 13.

Chaff had made peace with that.

Haymitch was still trying to.

He was grateful that he would miss his friend's death.

That is, if he ever left.

"Haymitch," said the figure next to him, and he grunted out a response, neither acknowledging her or ignoring her. " _Haymitch_."

" _What_?" he snapped, turning to look at her.

She wasn't very big. Not in the least. Most likely she was about one hundred pounds soaking wet, though she certainly had curves in the places that mattered the most. She wasn't very tall, either. If she ever took off her wig and five-inch stilettos she's probably be right at his chest. She certainly wasn't ugly, though it was awfully hard to tell with all the gunk covering her face. What she did have going for her were a pair of astonishing bright blue eyes that had the ability to render him speechless if he ever let his guard down.

Blue eyes that were currently staring into his Seam grey eyes.

"You need to go."

He blinked at her. Slowly. Attempting to understand what it is she had just said. Because there was no way that she had just said what he thought she had just said. He was hallucinating. He had to be.

"Stop looking at me like I'm crazy!" Only she _was_ crazy. Bloody out of her mind. She had to be.

Or he was.

He must have misheard her.

Her voice was urgent, nothing like what he had gotten used to over the past twenty years. She wasn't being shrill or high-strung. She was calm. Too calm.

That's what worried him the most.

She grabbed his face, and it was the hardness in her eyes that had him snapping out of his stupor.

"Haymitch, you have to _go_." He jerked in her arms and stepped back. She let him go and walked towards the door. "There's a packed back for you inside the fireplace. Grab it on your way out."

He still just stood there, even as she opened the door and stood next to it, waiting for him to make his exit.

"How'd you know?" he finally breathed.

She gave him a soft sigh. "We honestly don't have time for this, Haymitch."

"What do you know?" Now there was urgency in his own voice as what was happening started to sink in.

"I know you need to be on that hovercraft. It's getting closer and closer to midnight."

She walked passed him and made her way to the fireplace, her gold dress shimmering white from the television screen. He watched as his Escort bent down and rummaged around a _dirty_ fireplace and pulled out a black duffle bag. She turned back around, walked up to him, and handed it to him.

He took it, but stared at it dumbly. "What's this?"

"Necessities," she responded.

"Effie…." He didn't know what to say. "How long?"

She gave him a sad smile. "Long enough for you to have noticed. It's a shame you didn't." She reached up and absentmindedly patted her wig—something she did when she was nervous—and his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the charm bracelet on her wrist.

A mockingjay was the lone charm dangling from it.

She followed his gaze and lowered her arm, her other hand immediately twisting it around her arm.

He felt like a fool.

"Take care of yourself Mr. Abernathy. And take care of our Mockingjay."

He nodded as she started pushing him towards the door. When they reached the door he had finally forced himself into his right mind.

And his thoughts quickly became jumbled when she surprised him by placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

She tasted like strawberries and vanilla, and every bad thought he'd ever had about her flew out of the window.

When she backed away, he stared at her, shocked.

"For every time I've ever wanted to, and you wouldn't let me." Her voice caressed each word, and he wondered if a person could fall in love at first kiss. He'd heard of first sight, but this was ridiculous.

"Go, Haymitch."

"If you know… why aren't you coming?" asked Haymitch, because suddenly he understood, in this very moment, that they were supposed to be a team.

"I'm safer here, I think. I've played my part well over the years. Take care of yourself." He stared at her for a few more moments, wondering if he should apologize for misjudging her.

He'd seen what he'd wanted to see.

"Goodbye, Princess," was all he said, and he hoped that she understood what he was _really_ saying.

He was halfway down the hall when he heard his name. He turned around.

"Stay alive."

He gave her a slight nod, and his signature smirk, and disappeared towards the roof.


	18. Warm Winters

_SO excited to be nearly done with a few prompts. I plan to post them this weekend._

 _I find it deeply amusing when I have a story in mind, and it takes on a mind of its own. I definitely had a fluff piece in mind, but it didn't quite turn out that way. I'll try again another time LOL._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **WARM WINTERS**

 **Rated K**

"Haymitch?"

"Hm?"

"I'm cold."

"Okay." Haymitch turned the page of the book he was reading, finishing his sentence before what she said really hit him. Glancing up he saw Effie, dressed in her nightgown, her knees against her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs.

He frowned, noting it _was_ cooler.

"Winter's coming," he said, grabbing the blanket on the back of the couch and giving it to her. She took it, shivering slightly, and his frown deepened.

She wasn't used to the cold in 12.

"I'll be right back," he said, and placing the book down on the coffee table, he made his way upstairs to his attic to grab the wool blanket. It was about time for it to come back down anyway, and the summer blanket to go back up.

He wrapped the wool blanket around her too, and she mumbled a thank you.

It should have been clue number one, because Effie never mumbled, but he'd gotten comfortable.

"I can light a fire too."

"You already have firewood?"

"You always keep extra wood around, because there's no telling when the snow's gonna come. One day it's sunny, the next it's a blizzard." He said it with a note of fondness in his voice that had her cracking a smile.

The things he was affectionate about sometimes.

He made his way to the storage closet by the backdoor, grabbing what he needed, and started the fireplace.

"Better?" he asked her before sitting down, and she nodded. "We'll go into Town and get you some warmer clothes tomorrow." He grabbed his book and started reading again.

"Shopping?" asked Effie curiously.

Haymitch made a face. "Well when you say that word…."

He'd meant it as a joke, but she didn't really seem to be listening.

That should have been clue number two.

"I like my clothes."

"As do I, Princess," which was true, because they were a right sight better than the clown clothes she used to wear. "But your clothes won't keep you warm here."

She paused. "Because I'm in 12, right?"

That had his attention.

"Effie?" He tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

"I'm so cold, Haymitch." And that's when he saw them.

The tears.

His heart dropped.

"Then come here, Princess," he said softly.

He hardly had time to hold his breath for fear that she'd cower away from him—proof that she was trapped inside her own mind, and back in that cell—but she crawled on top of him so quickly he was breathless for an entirely different reason.

Sometimes he forgot how strong she was, because she knocked the wind out of him. He chuckled softly and gently fell back onto the couch. She wrapped herself around half of his body and squeezed the other half of her tiny self in between the cushions and his leg.

He placed the blankets on top of them.

"Better?" he tried again against her hair.

"Much."

"You nearly scared me," whispered Haymitch.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"Don't." He heard the plea in his voice. "I hate it when you act like you're the only one hurting."

"You hurt less than me."

"I've been hurting longer than you. I've learned to live with it. You're still learning."

She shifted a little so that she could look at him. "I love you."

It always shocked the fuck out of him when she said it, because he didn't deserve someone like her, loving him.

He didn't deserve _anyone_ loving him.

People he loved ended up dead.

"Stop it," she said softly, cupping his cheeks, seeing right through him.

He caressed her back. "Effie, I—"

"You don't have to say it. I know it's hard for you."

But he _should_ say it.

"You'll help me get better?"

He stared at her, frowning. "You know I will."

"Then that says it well enough." She smiled at him and slithered up the rest of his body to give him a kiss.

Soft.

Gentle.

Sweet.

Not at all like what they used to share.

And if they kept up like _this_ , with how heated their kisses were turning, he'd have no trouble keeping her warm this winter.


	19. Drunk In Love

" _Your stories are cool. Can we get one where Haymitch actually has feelings for Effie for once I hardly ever see that in fan fic. I know it's probably a little OCC, but who cares, it's fan fic!"_

 _Hahahaha this prompt was cute, but I agree, it is OCC, so I'm making it more Haymitch-like._

 _Title taken from Beyonce's Drunk In Love. Not a song fic. And not a member of the beyhive. Like at all. Not even a little bit. In fact I'm probably the most anti-Beyonce person out there. She does nothing for me._

 _But some of her titles are catchy as shit._

 **DRUNK IN LOVE**

 **Rated T**

Once upon a time being drunk made Haymitch forget everything. It took away all feelings. It took away all memories. And most importantly, it took away memories of feelings.

Things like resentment.

Anger.

Hurt.

Worry.

Love.

If drunken words were sober thoughts, then what the hell were drunken actions?

He could blame the alcohol if he wanted to, but really, even that could barely be called an excuse anymore. And try as he may—and boy did he try—he couldn't stop what was inevitably about to happen.

He was actually falling for her.

It went with the age-old question of if men and women could be friends with each other without catching feelings.

Not that they were friends.

But Chaff had told him once that he had never seen an Escort and Mentor understand each other the way Effie and Haymitch did.

And Haymitch had then counter-argued that they had been working together for twenty years, so _of course_ they _understood_ each other. "That doesn't mean we like each other," Haymitch had told his best friend.

Chaff had smirked at him. "Aye, I never said anything about liking each other. That was _you_ ," said Chaff.

They'd been sleeping together for five years by then.

And when the hell had it become _sleeping together_? It used to be fucking or boning or shagging or anything of the sort.

He supposed he had started calling it 'sleeping together' when he'd fallen asleep in her bed for the first time.

That was last year.

On the way back to 12.

After they'd won.

And then they had the Victory Tour, and he'd taken her to bed every single night.

And he couldn't for the life of him figure out what the hell was happening to him.

Until they'd danced together, at that stupid Victory Ball, and he still wasn't sure how Cinna had convinced him to ask Effie to dance, but somehow, before the night was over, he'd made his way across the dance floor. And one minute she was talking to another Escort and the next she was in his arms.

He didn't even remember the music.

Just her eyes, and the feel of his thumbs on her exposed back, and the way her breath caught in her throat at his touch.

And the way her arms found their way around his neck.

And her mesmerizing scent.

One dance in twenty years and he knew that he was a goner.

So he'd gotten unbelievably trashed, yet somehow still found his way to her bedroom in the middle of the night.

And somehow he spent every single sober moment attempting to convince himself that she meant nothing to him.

That she _couldn't_ mean anything to him.

Yet it wasn't so easy to push his feelings aside when he was drunk out of his mind. The liquid… something was in it. The alcohol didn't make the feelings dormant anymore, but awakened them tenfold like never before.

He had no idea what was happening to him.

And what's crazy is that she'd probably go for it, if they lived in a different place, at a different time, and if they weren't at the beginning stages of a _fucking war_. And maybe she would have if he wasn't such a screw up and didn't puke on her regularly. But aside from all that, he spent every moment that he was in his right mind being crueler than kinder in hopes that she would never suspect.

So being sober had its perks, as difficult as it was.

And being drunk? Being drunk hurt like shit when you were in love.


	20. Let It Be

_Got a prompt asking for more of Finnick, Johanna, and Chaff. Here you go!_

 **LET IT BE**

 **Rated M for language**

"Oh look," Chaff said, prying his eyes away from the party and looking at Haymitch. "It's show time."

Haymitch took a drink before following his friend's eye. When he found what Chaff was looking at Haymitch rolled his eyes and took another drink. "And she tells me not to make a scene."

Chaff snorted and turned his chair away from the bar so he could enjoy the show. Sighing Haymitch did the same. "I don't even know why we bother to look. The same thing happens every year."

Chaff nodded his agreement, but the two of them kept watch as Effie and Coral, District 6's Escort, argued near the pool, only a few feet away from them. Chaff and Haymitch couldn't hear them, but they could tell the two women were having an insanely intense debate at the moment.

"My money's on Effie," Chaff muttered after several moments.

Haymitch didn't respond, but he secretly agreed. His Escort certainly had a fiery temper, and often times went toe to toe with him. Seventeen years together and she still hardly backed down from one of their fights.

It was infuriating.

Mainly because it often made him feel alive, which was an oxymoron, because she was a fucking Escort.

An Angel of Death.

Only she wasn't.

Not always.

But he didn't like to think about that if he could help it, and the fact that he couldn't help it right now meant that he wasn't drunk enough.

At that moment last year's Victor, Johanna Mason, walked up to them. "God this is the dumbest party like ever," she spat, and snapped her fingers to get the bartenders attention.

"Calm your nerves, I haven't had much to drink yet," Haymitch mumbled, glancing up to check on Effie.

He scowled and looked away.

 _Checking up_ as if his _Escort_ needed protection. What in the hell was wrong with him?

He tossed back the rest of his drink and immediately turned around to order another one.

Before he could start drinking Chaff stiffened beside him.

"What?" asked Haymitch, staring at the man next to him. When Chaff didn't answer Haymitch followed his gaze and saw that Coral had gotten in Effie's face. Effie looked angry—angry he could handle—but she also looked hurt.

Hurt he couldn't handle so much.

Haymitch watched as Effie took a step back, but Coral advanced on her, and suddenly Effie wasn't backing away anymore.

"Get out of my face," Haymitch saw Effie mouth, but Coral, instead, stepped closer.

Effie pushed Coral back and Haymitch knew what was about to happen.

He was out of his seat before he could even think about it, and in three steps he had crossed over to them, grabbing Coral's extended hand.

He twirled her around, snarling. "You say whatever the fuck you want, but _nobody_ fucking touches my Escort," he snapped out darkly. Coral blinked at him and then scowled. He tightened his grip on her. "You fucking touch her, you and I are going to have a fucking problem, do you understand?"

"Let me go," hissed Coral, her face angry.

"I will. But you should know I don't fucking repeat myself. Nor do I change my mind. Touch her and see what happens." He let her go, twirling her back around to face Effie, who hadn't moved an inch. "Tell her you're sorry."

Coral turned to him. "Are you _drunk_?"

"Bitch if I had been drunk, I'd have killed you." Coral gasped, her eyes wide, and then she was gone. Haymitch watched her go. "Was it something I said?"

He heard the snickers and faced the couple of people he had no idea were listening in. They openly laughed once their cover was blown, and then walked away.

Haymitch turned back towards Effie, who was still in the same spot, as if frozen.

"You good?"

"I…." Her eyes darted around and then rested back on him. "Yes. Yes I'm fine. Thank—thank you, Haymitch."

She was flustered, and he didn't know why, but it was making him uncomfortable.

"Do try to stay out of trouble while I finish drinking," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes. Of course." But he wasn't sure she really heard him. He started to walk back towards the bar when she grabbed him, pulling him back to her.

The hug she gave him shocked the hell out of him, and he just stood there, stiff as a board, for several moments, and then he slowly wrapped his arms back around her.

"Thank you, Haymitch. Really." She pulled away, her eyes unusually bright, and then placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

And then she sauntered away.

He stood there for several moments, stunned stupid, before finally turning around.

Chaff, Johanna, and now Finnick, all stood there, staring at him.

"I have no fucking idea what happened," he growled when he approached them.

Chaff and Finnick sneered into a fit of laughter, but Johanna just looked dismayed.

"You stuck up for your Escort," the female Victor said.

Haymitch ignored her and ordered a double shot. He threw it back immediately, his heart hammering, because Johanna was right.

"It's Trinket," Chaff said, as if he could hear Haymitch's thoughts. "She gets a pass."

"No she doesn't," snapped Johanna. "She's fucking Capitol."

Finnick spoke. "I don't know. She's not like the rest. She's different."

"No," Haymitch said. "Johanna's right. She's fucking Capitol."

The group stayed silent, until Chaff said, "Who are you trying to convince? You or us?"

"Both," said Haymitch harshly, ordering another shot.

When Finn and Johanna had finally disappeared Chaff turned to Haymitch. "You protected her."

"It was instinctual," he argued. "We're fucking Victors. We react that way naturally."

Chaff blinked at him for a few moments, and then said slowly, "Yah. About people we _care_ about."

The truth of Chaff's words made him scowl. Chaff opened his mouth to keep talking but Haymitch silenced him with a look.

"I don't know what it means," he snapped out. "Just let it be. For fuck's sake just let it be."


	21. Off the Hook

_Prompt: Hayffie phone sex. Maybe set sometime in Catching Fire?_

 _A/N: OMG this is LIFE! I'm so excited. However, I don't see them having phone sex during Catching Fire. I mean granted, Effie did fix Haymitch's phone (and that'd be fun to write about) but that's neither here nor there. BUT I just did a play on words for this one. It will be phone sex—literally. Enjoy!_

 **OFF THE HOOK**

 **RATED M for smut**

Effie came the stairs, dressed in what used to be his favorite flannel shirt, but was now definitely hers. She'd taken one look at the blue and green-checkered shirt and declared it hers. He had tried to take it back a few times over the years, but she always found a way to take it off of him—ways he didn't mind in the least—and put it back on her body. He had asked her why she wanted that shirt—it was probably as old as him—and she had hugged it, sniffing it, and said that it smelled like him, and was a comfort to her whenever she needed it.

He let her keep it after that.

And it looked a right sight better on her than it ever did on him anyway. It was actually one of his favorite outfits that she wore around the house. Granted the button-up swallowed her whole. The sleeves were too long and it fell off of one shoulder. But it gave him an incredible view of those legs.

He was on the phone when she arrived in the kitchen, and he stopped mid-conversation, obviously distracted. He looked her over, his eyes taking in every detail, and only remembered that he was on the phone when he heard a very distinct,

"Are you still there brainless?"

"Oh. Right. Yah. What were you saying Jo?" Whatever she said Haymitch sighed, rolled his eyes, and brought the phone to Effie. "She wants to talk to you."

Effie smiled at him fondly and grabbed the phone, leaning against him. "Hello, Johanna."

"Ugh, why do you always have to be so fucking proper?"

"Honestly, language, Johanna," chided Effie.

"I just wanted to say hi, but now I'm over it. I'm gonna give the phone to Annie now."

"I'm okay." Effie saw right through Johanna's hard exterior. "Better. Haymitch is helping."

"Yah, don't wanna hear about how he helps," Johanna snorted. "Here's Annie."

Effie laughed and then stopped abruptly when Haymitch wrapped his arms around her waist. Her breath caught in her throat when his lips found their way to her neck.

She moaned when his hands found their way to her breasts.

"Wasn't twice enough?"

"It's never enough," he muttered against her throat, unbuttoning his—her—shirt. His calloused hands made her shiver as he ran them up and down her body. She arched her back into him, feeling him against her, and sighed when his lips finally found hers. She greedily opened her mouth, taking him in.

Without breaking away she turned around so that her body was facing him, her hands moving towards his belt buckle—what did he need things like belts for while they were in the house? She moaned softly when he bit her lip, and dropping the phone she made quick work of his shirt.

He picked her up and placed her on top of the counter, spreading her legs. Sometimes he teased, other times he took. Today was one of the times he took. He entered her quickly and surely, their rhythm familiar now.

Yet he could still force her to make the strangest noises.

She pulled him closer to her, forcing him deeper, and moaned out his name, louder and louder as she got closer and closer to climax.

She came, shivering as she did so, and he pulled her off of the counter and turned her around, bending her over the counter. He put his hands on her hips, leading her, and she eventually started pushing back. Their hips met together and he placed a hot kiss on her shoulder blade, grunting out her name.

She whimpered, and came again. This time Haymitch followed closely behind.

She had every mind to slide down to the floor but Haymitch held her up.

The blood was pounding in both of their ears as they got redressed.

They were brought back to reality by snickering.

"What the fuck?" asked Haymitch, and Effie stared at the phone in horror.

"Oh my God," Effie blushed, grabbing the phone. "Hello?"

"Oh, remembered us now?" teased Johanna. Effie stared at the phone, mortified, as she heard Annie in the background, laughing as well.

"How the hell did you forget to hang up?" Haymitch asked.

"I was _distracted_ ," snapped back Effie, glaring at him.

"Obviously," Annie joked, and Effie whimpered, embarrassed.

"I will never forgive you for this, Haymitch."

"This is not my fault," argued Haymitch. "You were the one that came downstairs in that—"

"We're still here," Annie giggled.

Effie scowled at Haymitch and grabbed the phone. "I'll call you back tomorrow, Annie. Give Finn our love."

"We'd say give Haymitch our love, but you already have that handled." The two women fell into a fit of laughter while Effie hung up the phone, sighing. She turned to Haymitch, who had his signature smirk on his face. She was about to tell him off when he said,

"Wanna go again?"

"Well of course I do, but that does not excuse—" He silenced her with a kiss. "Haymitch, I'm—" Another kiss to silence her.

After two more attempts she gave up, slipping her shirt back off.

This time she made sure the phone was on the hook.


	22. Still Effie

" _Hi love all you stories. I have a prompt that I hope isn't too angsty: when Haymitch finds out that Effie was taken by the Capitol and he is trying to locate her. Thanks :)"_

 _FINALLY I've finished this one! Sorry it's not very long, but like I said, I already have a chapter like this in my story 'He's Fire, She's the Ocean.' This is a different scenario I had in my head. Hope you like it,_ _nkneeshaw. FYI, it's definitely going to skip some parts. I'll go in depth in 'He's Fire She's the Ocean.' For the sake of THIS story, just to make it different, I'm going to shy away from canon and bring Effie back to 13. Also, this will vary from my real account in 'He's Fire.'_

 **STILL EFFIE**

 **Rated M for language**

Haymitch stood there, not only utterly dumbfounded, but rendered completely speechless. Haymitch waited for his hearing to come back, along with his ability to speak.

He blinked at Plutarch, grateful for the ability to see. It seemed to be the only one of his five senses that remained functioning. Everything else was gone. He was waiting for one particular sense to come back.

He'd pretty much been this way since Plutarch had announced to Katniss that Effie was missing. Now the two of them were in Haymitch's room, in the middle of the night.

"Coin didn't want you to know but I—" Plutarch was cut off as soon as Haymitch regained his ability to move—his ability to _touch_. Haymitch pinned Plutarch against the grey wall.

"You fucking told me she'd be safer in the Capitol," he spat angrily.

Plutarch couldn't have responded even if he wanted to. Haymitch was squeezing him too hard. "What'd you think, that I'd do one of your stupid propos if you found something to hang over my head?"

Plutarch succeeded in pushing Haymitch away, breathing hard and gasping for air. "Haymitch you know me better than that," he was finally able to wheeze out.

Haymitch punched the grey wall, enjoying the pain in his knuckles.

"I'm going to the Capitol to find her," stated Haymitch after a few moments of silence. "And don't you dare try to fucking stop me."

"Coin would never allow it." Haymitch didn't seem to be listening. He was already moving around his room, gathering clothes. "What about Katniss? She needs you."

"Katniss hates my fucking guts right now," spat out Haymitch. "Besides, she's safe here. So's Peeta. Effie—"

Haymitch bit his tongue as he thought of his Escort. The woman was a pain in the ass, but she was _his_ pain in the ass, and had been for the past twenty years.

" _We're a team_ ," she had told them all.

"I have to go to the Capitol," Haymitch repeated.

"Coin—"

"Is asleep, and she couldn't stop me even if she were awake. There is nothing that you could say to make me change my mind." He zipped up his bag. "Keep an eye on Katniss, if that's not too much fucking trouble."

"Where are you going?" Haymitch made his way to the door. "What are you going to do, _walk_ to the Capitol?"

"Don't be fucking ridiculous." Haymitch turned and stared at Plutarch. "I'm taking a hovercraft, _after_ I visit Beetee."

"Haymitch, I can't let you do that."

Haymitch snarled. "Do you honestly think you can fucking stop me?"

Plutarch's silence was his answer.

"That's what I fucking thought."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch pounded on Beetee's door and waited for several moments before the man opened the door. "I need you in the Control Room. Now."

Beetee asked no questions. He just followed Haymitch to the Control Room, in silence.

"I need weapons. Knives preferably, but I could use a couple of guns, too."

Beetee stared at Haymitch for a few moments. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Not particularly," snapped Haymitch. "Just get me a couple of fucking knives, and a couple of fucking guns."

Beetee continued to stare at Haymitch, and then gave him a single nod. It didn't take long for Beetee to gather the weapons. He laid them out and allowed Haymitch to take his pick. He took three different knives and two guns, hiding his favorite knife beneath an extra jacket. He placed the other ones in his bag, noting the way Beetee was watching him closely.

"Tell Coin I threatened you for all I fucking care," barked out Haymitch. "Just don't tell her until she asks."

"My loyalties always have been and always will be with the Mockingjay. Which, by extension, means my loyalties lie with you. I don't know what's going on, but I hope you come back safely."

Haymitch stared at Beetee. The two of them weren't necessarily friends—they ran in different circles, even as allies. He was an excellent person to have on their side, though, and the two had grown somewhat close since the Quarter Quell.

Haymitch acknowledged Beetee's statement with a slight nod, and then he made his way to Captain Grandis' room. It took him a little while to open the door, but as it was the middle of the night, Haymitch tried to keep his patience. When Grandis finally opened the door, Haymitch tried to hide his annoyance.

And fear.

Because he was wasting time.

"I need one of your best pilots to meet me in Command in ten minutes," Haymitch said.

Grandis blinked at him. "What?"

"You heard me. Ten minutes, Soldier."

"Abernathy—"

Haymitch snapped and grabbed Grandis, slamming him against his own door. "I don't fucking repeat myself, Solider. Nine minutes."

He let the man go before he did something really stupid like snap his neck, and then made his way to Command, his heart pounding.

He was shaking as he waited for the pilot.

For the first time it had nothing to do with lack of alcohol.

 **XxXxXx**

His next stop was to Mrs. Everdeen. She was awake, which wasn't surprising.

"Peeta's still not doing that well," she said immediately, and Haymitch shook his head.

"I'm not here for that right now." His voice was actually cold. Haymitch told himself to calm down and reminded himself that Peeta was someone he actually cared about. He cleared his throat. "I need to know which nurse—emphasis on nurse—you actually trust in 13."

Mrs. Everdeen blinked at him. "Trust?"

"One who doesn't really like Coin, but supports Katniss."

"You mean other than Prim?" Mrs. Everdeen deadpanned.

"Yes," said Haymitch curtly.

She paused for a few moments. "There's one girl. Aria."

"Go and wake her, and tell her to go to the Command Room."

"What's going on?"

"Just do it," he said, making his way out.

 **XxXxXx**

While Haymtich waited for his pilot to load up, he stared at Plutarch. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," nodded Plutarch.

"I don't care what Coin says."

"Haymitch, you're my _friend_ ," Plutarch said. "I'll make sure you're safe. I'll get Beetee in here."

"He's already up." If Plutarch was surprised, he didn't let it show. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Haymitch started to leave when Plutarch called after him. "What if… what if you can't find her?"

Haymitch stared at Plutarch. "You mean what if she's already dead?" Plutarch nodded and Haymitch stared at him darkly. "Then heads will fucking role, and Katniss will have to fight me in killing Snow."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch bent down and took the keys off of the guard, and with trembling hands he opened up the door. He had long ago muted Plutarch, and disconnected all video.

He didn't want anyone to know what he did to get to this room.

When he opened the door he stopped.

She was there. In the corner of the cell.

Deathly still.

He approached her—slowly, swallowing hard, taking in all that he could: her chopped off hair, her marred skin, her tattered dress.

The same dress from when he last saw her.

Months ago.

Months and months ago.

It took him several tries before he actually found his voice and was able to call her name.

When he saw her move he immediately bent down.

He was afraid to touch her.

He pulled his communication out. "Baron," he said to the pilot.

"Soldier, you—"

"Save the lecture, Baron. Send in Aria. She won't be met with any resistance."

"How will she—"

"Tell her to follow the bodies. I'll meet her." He cut away transmission and waited a few minutes, staring at Effie's cowering figure, his heart in his throat.

She was alive. That's all that mattered. One step at a time.

He left the cell, keeping his knife in his hand, though he didn't think he'd be met with any more resistance. He found Aria halfway through, her medical bag in hand. She stared at him, shocked.

"I was just reminded how you won your Games," she told him, and he shot her a look.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

Aria immediately went towards Effie, her supplies in hand. She checked for a pulse and Effie moaned. Haymitch was next to her in a second, nearly throwing Aria aside.

"Effie?" he said softly.

She blinked up at him, her eyes foggy, and he saw it, the quick flicker of recognition, and then her eyes were rolling back into her head.

He whimpered and Aria took that as her cue to start checking out Effie.

"She's dehydrated," Aria said. "But other than that she looks like she's in okay condition. We'll have to see, but I think she's at least okay to travel. I've got all the equipment I need in the hovercraft."

Haymitch turned back on his communication and finally tuned back into Plutarch.

Coin answered instead.

"Don't give a fuck," barked out Haymitch. "Get me Plutarch."

"You're fine, Soldier," Coin said, and he knew that meant he was anything but fine. "I want you back here safe and sound, so that I can skin you alive myself."

"Go to hell, Coin," said Haymitch. "We're about to head back to the hovercraft."

"You know you're finished after this, right?"

Haymitch snarled darkly. "Sweetheart, I'm just getting started." He switched off communication and made contact with Baron. "We're on our way."

Baron sighed with relief. "Just hurry up and get here. I'm like a fucking sitting duck."

They got Effie to the hovercraft without incident, and by the time the hovercraft left Aria had Effie hooked up.

Haymitch didn't leave her side.

Halfway through she started to moan and move, and Haymitch tightened his grip on her hand. His eyes were glued to hers when she opened them.

"Haymitch," she whispered, her voice scratchy.

"I'm here," said Haymitch softly.

She looked at him, taking in his appearance. "This is real. This isn't a dream. I know it's real because only in real life would you be wearing a God-awful beanie to hide that God-awful hair."

Haymitch felt the pressure in his chest loosen.

She was going to be okay.

Despite the scars, the bruises, the sores, the broken bones, she was Effie.

She was still Effie.


	23. Welcome Home

" _I always wondered if these two might have had a secret baby somewhere. I figured they wouldn't be able to disclose their relationship because then Snow would have used it against them and a child would have been even worse. Imagine if they had to hide a little one away and it isn't until the war is over that we get to meet them?"_

 _Karmicsamadi86 suggested this post after I wrote 'Almost' (Chapter 5). I fell in love with it, even if it's not canon in the least. I hope you all enjoy it. I had a lot of trouble writing it figuring Haymitch and Effie only saw each other a few weeks out of the year, but I think I did okay._

 **WELCOME HOME**

 **RATED K**

They recognized him as soon as he got off the train. How could they not? He looked like the perfect mixture between them: dark Seam hair—extremely dark hair that rivaled the blackest night—and sparkling Capitol blue eyes that rivaled the brilliance of the clearest ocean. His skin was too olive for him to be strictly Capitol, and too pale to only be Seam.

He was the most handsome thing Haymitch had ever seen, even if the sight of him made Haymitch want to lock himself inside the nearest bar and drink all the liquor available.

Haymitch felt it: the gentle elbow to his arm from Katniss, who was so in tune with his fear.

Peeta stood next to her, much better at hiding his anxiety than they were.

He instantly felt himself calm down at Katniss' touch.

Time seemed to stop as Haymitch watched the boy of five exit off of the train, his mother close behind.

His five-year old son.

They'd never met before today. Haymitch had known of his existence, of course, and the boy knew _of_ him. But the two of them had never met. It had always been far too dangerous.

He still remembered the day Effie told him— on the Victory tour, at the Victory Ball, while dancing—and he'd gone weak in the knees at the prospect of having a child. To be a former Victor meant that this child would for sure be forced to partake in the Games. This child would be dead before he or she was even born.

He'd immediately gone and gotten drunk, making it a problem to deal with another day. How had he missed it? Granted they hadn't had a lot time to…. He'd been drinking a lot more. This was his first Victory Tour since his own, so he'd spent most of the time alone, reliving the nightmare that was his life. So he drank, and there hadn't been a lot of time for talking and touching.

And on top of that he had had to be on his toes, with the imminent prospect of death and destruction at the hands of Snow.

The next morning he'd gone to her room, intent on telling her that she had to get rid of it, that that was non-negotiable, and he saw her with a glass of wine.

"You can't drink," he had snapped, snatching the wine out of her hand. "Are you fucking insane?"

"And you can't talk like that," hissed back Effie.

He had barely heard her as he realized that he'd already feared for the child's life. His first instinct had been to protect—she wasn't supposed to be drinking while pregnant. _Everybody_ knew that. What did that mean? He shouldn't care. Not in the least.

But he had.

"The doctor said that a glass of wine a day is okay," she had told him, her voice a little softer.

Haymitch had sat down heavily on her bed, and she eventually sat down next to him.

After turning on the radio.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she told him honestly. "I was careful. I've been on birth control since we first started, and I've never missed a day. I mean you _know_ me. My life is all about schedules. And we nearly always use protection, just in case…." She was rambling, nervous, and she was pretty sure he wasn't even listening.

She reached out and touched him and he stiffened.

She stared at him, clearly hurt.

They could do that.

Hurt each other.

They cared about each other, and had for years, despite their opposite job titles.

They worked for the same team.

They _were_ a team.

And this certainly wasn't a part of any plan or mission.

"Effie—"

"I know you want me to," Effie interrupted, which proved how nervous she was, because she _never_ interrupted. "But I've already made up my mind. I'm going to have him."

Haymitch sighed, because he _knew_ she'd say that.

And then it hit him.

 _Him_.

"How—"

"Six months. Which means it's too late to abort him regardless." And suddenly he realized why all her dresses were poofier or hid her midriff expertly.

Haymitch swallowed back the fear—and the bile—and turned to Effie.

He wanted to be a dick. He could ask if she was sure it was his—even though he knew it was. She was six months along, which put the child being conceived around the time of the last Games.

They'd forgotten themselves that night, too high on winning to care about something as trivial as protection.

"This child has death already hanging over its head."

" _His_ , Haymitch."

He just shook his head. He couldn't get attached. Wouldn't get attached.

"I will never know this child, Effie. You know I can't. To acknowledge it… to claim it… it's sentencing it to its death."

She stayed silent for several moments, and then reached out and grabbed his hand. This time he was ready, and he squeezed her hand, giving both of them comfort. "Do you trust me?"

He found he didn't even have to hesitate. There were only a handful of people in this world he trusted whole-heartedly.

Chaff.

Finnick.

Johanna.

Cinna.

And he'd definitely add Effie to that list.

She'd probably be at the top of it.

"Yes," he told her immediately.

"Then I have a plan, okay? I said I'd have him. Not that I'd _keep_ him."

Haymitch just stared at her.

"Trust me. I mean you can't really believe that I'm the first person to fall in love with and have a child by someone she has no business doing so, do you? There's this place. Top secret."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "So how have you heard of it?"

"Portia," she told him, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "They allow you to keep in touch with your child and everything."

"Effie when this thing is all said and done, I could very well be dead," he told her, and she stiffened.

"Stop it."

"It's true."

"I hate it when you talk like that," she snapped, rising.

"It's _true_ ," snapped back Haymitch, also rising. "We've talked about this."

" _You've_ talked about this. I don't—"

"We don't have time for this." Haymitch took a deep breath and Effie pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I know this is upsetting, but you deserved to know. Just trust me, okay?"

So he did, and he let her deal with it, so that by the time she'd come back to him for the Reaping she promised him that their child would know the brave man who was Haymitch Abernathy.

He had chosen not to know anything. He just knew that he had one more reason to fight a little harder.

Effie was supposed to be safe when he left to 13, and so was their child.

Only it didn't exactly work out that way.

Effie was taken and tortured, and the child went into hiding with the rest of them.

And then Effie went back to the Capitol after she was rescued, and he didn't hear from her for a year, and he thought all was lost, until she showed up on his doorstep one night in the middle of the night.

It took her six months to tell him she had found their son.

After they made love for the first time.

" _I found him, Haymitch_ ," she had told him, and he didn't have to ask who.

Over the next several years Effie spent her time between the Capitol and 12, talking with their son.

Haymitch never went with her.

It took him five years to finally decide that it was time to bring him home. Five long years trying to convince himself that his child— _child_ —would be safe.

No more Games.

Paylor wouldn't be overthrown.

Press wasn't allowed in 12.

So the last time Effie went to back to the Capitol, he had told her not to return until she could bring their son back with her.

He'd shocked himself by saying it, but the words felt right.

It had taken a few months, but they were finally here.

The little boy walked off the train, holding Effie's hand.

Effie, her blonde hair pulled back, her blue eyes smiling warmly when she spotted them, and her face beautiful and bare, still walked as if she were a woman with a purpose, which she was, and always would be.

His purpose.

She led the little boy towards them.

Effie smiled at Katniss and Peeta, but walked passed them and walked right up to Haymitch, planting a soft kiss on his lips. She always knew what he needed.

He felt the fear that was threatening to overtake him loosen a little.

Effie's hand slid down his chest as she knelt down, in her dress, though she hadn't cared about things like that in years.

The boy looked at her, his eyes glued to his mother. "Don't be nervous," she told the boy gently.

"I'm not," responded the child boldly, and Haymitch decided that the boy had the cutest more adorable—yet still manly—voice in all of Panem.

"Then say hello," Effie said with a smile.

The little boy turned back and made eye contact with Haymitch.

The world seemed to stop for a second. Haymitch literally forgot how to breathe.

And then—

The little boy, without saying a word, threw himself around Haymitch's leg.

He heard himself whimper and then he lowered himself, hugging the boy. The little child clung to him like it was the easiest thing in the world, and Haymitch breathed in his scent: he didn't smell Capitol, or like the Seam, but like new beginnings and happily ever after.

Things Haymitch had never believed in before.

After several moments Haymitch pushed him away and took in every detail: he had three freckles on his nose. Beautiful lashes. His father's long hair. He was surprised that Effie hadn't had it all cut off.

Haymitch reached in his pocket and pulled out an old, nearly tattered black beanie and placed it on the child's head—it was cooling down in 12.

The boy smiled—identical to his mother's—and stared back at him.

"Hi Daddy," the little boy exclaimed, slightly shy. He touched his beanie. "Thank you!" Already a proper little tyke.

Haymitch smiled. "Hello, Ash. Welcome home."


	24. Baby Magic

_This is for karmicsamadi86. "Any chance you can do one about the first time Hayffie babysits Willow. I just think the two of them would be so overprotective, but inept at the same time, and only hilarity could ensue from that!"_

 **BABY MAGIC**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch just blinked at Katniss as if the girl had three heads.

"It's just for the day, Haymitch," sighed Katniss. "We wanna see Annie, Finn, and Johanna, and we don't think it's good for the baby to travel yet."

"Well no shit, Sweetheart, she's only like a day old," Haymitch said sarcastically.

"She's one," said Katniss exasperatedly.

"One year, one day, it's all relatively the same," Haymitch argued, waving his hand.

"Peeta and I just need a break, and Willow loves you."

"But—"

Before Haymitch could respond the door swung open. Effie walked in, a couple bags of groceries in her hand, and Peeta followed behind, several bags of groceries in his hand. Haymitch immediately made his way over to help Effie, taking the bags from her and placing them on the table.

"Thank you, Haymitch," Effie said breathlessly. "I'm not as young as I used to be. That walk from Town is quite the trip." She gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and turned to start putting the things away. "Oh, I'm just so excited for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" asked Haymitch. He turned to Katniss, a smug smile on his face. "Looks like Effie and I already have plans."

"What plans?" Katniss scowled.

"I don't know. It's probably an anniversary. The first time she said I love you. The first time _I_ said it. The first time we made love." Katniss rolled her eyes. "Could be anything." He shrugged, grinning. "No telling with her."

Effie turned to Haymitch. " _Must_ you be so crass?" she hissed, hand on her hips. "Tomorrow is _not_ our anniversary." She looked at Katniss and Peeta. "We only celebrate one—our toasting anniversary—but I do keep tabs of other dates." She turned back to Haymitch, her eyes narrow. "None of which are tomorrow."

"You're the one that said you're excited," said Haymitch.

"Yes, because we're watching Willow." Haymitch felt his stomach drop. "Peeta asked me while we were at the store, and I said we'd be _delighted_."

"Tell Peeta you lied." Effie gave him a _look_ that had him scowling. His scowl darkened when he saw the smile on Katniss' face.

"Thanks, Effie," said Katniss, walking up to her former Escort. "Peeta and I appreciate it."

"Oh, it's no problem. We adore Willow. We'll see you bright and early, okay? Why don't you two go ahead and start packing?"

"Sure thing, Effie. Thanks again you two." Peeta and Katniss quickly left. Probably to make sure Haymitch didn't make Effie change her mind.

"What'd you go and do that for?" whined Haymitch.

"Do what?" Effie asked absent-mindedly. Haymitch made his way to the table to help her start putting groceries up.

"Tell Peeta we'd watch Willow?"

"Why wouldn't we? They need a break. Katniss is exhausted, and Peeta is drained. They need a vacation. I told them they should take the whole weekend but I think they're still afraid of leaving Willow for too long. Peeta told me he had to beg Katniss. Took her a week to agree."

"Effie—"

" _What_ Haymitch?" She finally turned around to look at him. "What's the problem? We're certainly not doing anything. And Willow worships the ground you walk on." She rolled her eyes and Haymitch couldn't quite hide his smirk.

"Please don't tell me you're jealous of a one-year old?"

Effie frowned. "Of course not," she mumbled. "But she's certainly the only other girl you're ever allowed to go goo-goo eyes over besides me."

Haymitch felt his mouth twitching, and then burst out laughing. "You _are_ jealous!"

"Well of course I am. The girl has you wrapped around her little finger." She stood on her tiptoes to put away a box in the cabinet. "Used to be a time _I_ was the only woman who you listened to."

"It's her eyes," Haymitch told Effie, walking up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Her breath caught in her throat as she leaned back into him. "They're the same shade of blue as yours, you know."

He kissed her neck and she moaned softly. "And I thought they were the same color as Peeta's."

"Are Peeta's eyes blue? Never noticed." He kissed her collarbone and she turned around, sliding her hands around his neck.

"We should get this in now, because tomorrow there will be none of this. There won't be time."

"She's a toddler," mumbled Haymitch as he unbuttoned her dress. "Won't she sleep for half the day?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it. I'm actually going to be coaching Willow tomorrow on how to like me better than you."

Haymitch snorted, kissing Effie's lips. "Why would you do that, Princess?"

Effie's hands made quick work of his shirt. "Haven't you ever heard the expression 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?'"

Haymitch outright laughed this time, pulling Effie towards the couch. "Hey, I married you, didn't I?"

Effie tsked and pouted. "I should leave you hanging for that statement. I was no more your enemy than Cinna was."

"Princess please don't mention another man while I'm undressing you."

 **XxXxXx**

The next morning—before the crack of dawn— Peeta and Katniss walked into the house. Effie was already up, dressed in her nightdress, her robe covering it, a cheerful smile on her face.

"Where's Haymitch?" asked Peeta.

"I let him stay sleep. If he can sleep through the night, I try to let him." Katniss looked at Effie, and she could tell Katniss was already having second thoughts. "I'm not going back upstairs, so if he has a nightmare, he'll have it by himself. It's a sacrifice, mind you, because he's gotten used to me being there. But his knife is locked away now, and has been for years."

Effie's voice must have been as cold as it sounded, because Katniss looked guilty. Effie hardly ever got upset with Katniss, except for when the girl doubted Haymitch.

Peeta handed her a list of rules, as well as the number of the train. "If anything happens, call Annie so she can let us know as soon as we get there."

"She'll be fine, Peeta," Effie assured him. She gave Katniss a soft smile—the girl was a worrier, and always would be. "Hand her to me."

Peeta did as he was told, placing Willow in Effie's arms. Katniss sat down the baby bag and opened it, grabbing several bottles and then placing them in the refrigerator.

"These can stay cold unless she's about to fall asleep and she's fussy. Then you can warm it up. Not too hot. But the warm milk calms her." Effie nodded to Katniss. "We should go before we miss our train."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "As if it'd leave without us." He shook his head at her, smiling lovingly, and made his way to Effie. "We'll see you late tonight." He bent down, kissing Willow, who didn't even stir, on the forehead. Katniss came up next, doing the same, and then they were gone.

With a small smile Effie gently sat down the couch, laying back. She settled Willow on her chest and grabbed the blanket thrown casually over the couch. She covered them up, wrapped her arms around Willow, and fell back asleep.

 **XxXxXx**

When Haymitch woke up he foolishly thought that Katniss and Peeta had changed their mind.

No such luck.

When he made his way downstairs he found Effie asleep, Willow on her chest.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight.

It tugged at his heart, just a little bit, to have his two favorite girls in the world together.

Not that he'd ever tell them that.

Well he might tell Willow, because she couldn't talk.

But he'd never tell Effie.

He tiptoed around, but apparently not well, because after a few minutes Effie started to stir. When her eyes landed on Haymitch she was met with his signature smirk. He sipped his tea as he watched her eyes clear from sleep.

Her hand automatically tightened on Willow.

"Morning Princess," he said softly.

At that moment Willow stirred.

"And hello, Sweet Pea." It was a mixture of the names he called Katniss and Effie.

Willow immediately perked up and cooed when her eyes rested on Haymitch, a smile on her face. Effie rolled her eyes and sat up, cradling Willow. When Willow's Town blue eyes rested on her Capitol blue ones Willow gave Effie a slight grin, but when Haymitch got up and walked to the kitchen, Willow's eyes followed him.

Effie sighed and stood up. "Good morning, Willow. What do you say we go bathe and then change into today's outfits?"

She didn't wait for a reply from the one-year old. They just made their way upstairs and Effie drew Willow a bath, bathing her in some of the things she had bought from the Capitol once she had learned Katniss was pregnant. She washed Willow with Baby Magic soap, and then lotioned her down with Baby Magic lotion, taking special care to put some in Willow's hair.

"Are you sure you should be using that Capitol shit on her?"

Effie glared at Haymitch, who was standing in the doorway. "Are you sure you should be using that kind of language around her?"

Haymitch shrugged. "What? She's one. She can't repeat it."

Effie huffed. "Baby Magic _is_ for babies, and it makes a baby _smell_ like a baby. My mother used it on me and I turned out fine."

" _That_ is debatable, Princess."

Effie shot him another look and he winked at her.

"What if it makes her breakout or something? You Capitol people aren't exactly the brightest flower in the meadow."

" _That_ is quite _rude_. I'll have you know I'm quite good with children. I used to babysit my sister all the time. She was ten years younger than me."

She walked to the closet and rummaged around for a dress for Willow.

"Don't put her in a dress," demanded Haymitch.

"She's a _girl_ , Haymitch, it's only _proper_."

"It's gonna get _dirty_."

"And I'll change her into another one. Can't you go get started on breakfast?"

Haymitch rolled his eyes but left.

Sighing she dressed Willow in a little pink dress—Katniss allowed Willow to be dressed this way every now and then, as long as Effie promised her that they wouldn't be too extravagant—and then Effie got dressed—also in a pink dress, though it was on a much smaller scale than her usual dresses used to be—and then they made their way downstairs.

Haymitch was making breakfast when she reappeared.

As soon as Willow saw Haymitch she started cooing again, giggling and babbling, reaching out her arms.

"Don't you want to spend time with Aunt Effie as opposed to Grandpa Haymitch?" asked Effie to Willow.

Haymitch spared Effie a look. "Why am I Grandpa and you're Aunt?"

"Because you are an old man."

"You're three years younger than me."

"Which means you're three years older."

Haymitch scowled and turned off the stove, sitting a plate of eggs down in front of Effie. Effie sat Willow in her lap and broke off a tiny piece of egg and fed it to Willow.

She made a face and Effie laughed. "Yet he's your favorite," chided Effie.

About halfway through breakfast Willow started getting fussy.

Haymitch took that as his cue and took her away from Effie. Willow immediately calmed down and started laughing. Haymitch tossed her in the air and Effie didn't even blink. She'd seen him do it so many times over the past few months that she was used to it. She took her newly found free time and ate her eggs, and then washed the dishes.

"Haymitch stop bouncing her so much, she just ate."

"Hush woman," Haymitch said, still bouncing her, and Willow giggled.

Those two together….

But after a few more bounces suddenly Haymitch cursed.

Effie smiled smugly at the spit up on Haymitch's face and shirt. She didn't even talk about his language.

He'd been punished enough.

Haymitch immediately handed Willow to Effie, muttering darkly, taking off his shirt and heading upstairs. When he came back downstairs Effie had Willow giggling, but at he sight of Haymitch, she reached up for him.

"Right, like I'm gonna fall for _that_ again."

When she started to scrunch up her face Haymitch sighed and snatched her away from Effie.

He pulled her close and kissed her neck, face, and nose.

"You smell good," he breathed.

"She smells like a baby's supposed to smell. You know… that stuff from the Capitol."

"You don't have to brag, Effie."

Effie huffed.

Haymitch smirked.

Haymitch sat down, tickling Willow's stomach, and the little girl giggled loudly. Effie watched the two fondly, careful not to show Haymitch that she was paying too much attention.

After a few minutes Willow started to whine.

"What's wrong, Sweet Pea? What is it?" asked Haymitch.

Effie sniffed. "I think she needs a diaper change."

He snapped his neck towards her. "A _what_?"

Effie sighed. "A _diaper_ change, Haymitch."

"I'm outta here," he said, immediately frowning and trying to hand Willow off to her.

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Effie, standing. She went and grabbed Willow's baby bag, remembering Peeta's note. She glanced at it and felt her stomach sink. "Oh dear. We weren't supposed to feed her eggs. They make her… well… that'll be one messy diaper."

Haymitch looked unnerved. " _We_?" he exclaimed. " _We_ didn't feed her eggs. _You_ did."

"Well _you_ made the eggs!"

"Well I didn't know I couldn't make eggs in my own damn house." Haymitch couldn't hide the panic in his voice.

"Language, Haymitch."

Effie bent down and grabbed the wipes and a fresh diaper, handing it to Haymitch, who stared at the items as if they were dangerous.

He realized he'd much rather face forty-seven other Tributes and a Quarter Quell before he changed this girl's diaper.

Willow started crying, and then the phone started ringing.

Effie immediately went into the kitchen to grab it, unsurprised that it was Katniss.

"Willow will be fine as soon as Haymitch _changes her diaper_." Effie said the last part loudly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Okay, okay. Pipe down, Princess." Haymitch sighed heavily, gulping audibly.

"Let me help him and I'll call you right back." Effie hung up and walked over to Haymitch.

"Seriously, this isn't very lady like, Sweet Pea. Where _are_ your manners?" asked Haymitch.

He lifted up her dress, his face in a dark frown, and started peeling of her diaper.

Slowly.

Haymitch groaned, slightly whimpering.

He'd survived a Quarter Quell.

Lost his family.

Won a war.

And he'd never been as afraid as he was right now.

Never again, he vowed to himself.

Never again would he babysit Willow Mellark.

Gulping, he took off her diaper.


	25. Happiest Season of All

_There will be a sequel to this, though I'm not sure when. CHRISTmas is my favorite holiday like in the whole world, and I'm ALWAYS in the CHRISTmas spirit, so I thought I'd make a CHRISTmas one-shot. How would you all like the sequel to go? What would you like Haymitch to buy Effie? Let me know!_

 **HAPPIEST SEASON OF ALL**

 **Rated K**

"But what _is_ it?" asked Katniss.

"Why it's _Christmas_ ," Effie responded, staring at the people seated at the dinner table with her. "It's the most wonderful time of the year, the happiest season of them all."

Katniss shared a glance with Haymitch, who just rolled his eyes. "That's the same line she gave me," he grumbled. "And then she proceeded to call me some other man's name."

Katniss arched an eyebrow while Effie sighed dramatically.

"I called him Scrooge." Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch all stared blankly at her. "Seriously? He's only one of the most famous Christmas characters of all time. I'd put him right under Santa Claus."

" _Who_?" asked Peeta.

"This is _ridiculous_. Haymitch, I _know_ you've heard of Christmas."

This time Haymitch sighed. "Yah, I've heard of it, but everybody in 12—especially people from the Seam—were too poor to celebrate it. Nobody in the Districts celebrated it, except maybe Districts 1 and 2. We know the Capitol celebrated it, but how they did without snow is beyond me."

"Are you ever gonna explain what it actually _is_?" Katniss asked again.

"It's a day where you celebrate with your loved ones. And as long as you have people you love around, you don't have to be rich to celebrate it," Effie said pointedly.

"Well then I was the poorest of them all," Haymitch mumbled bitterly.

"Well you're not poor anymore," said Effie softly after a few short moments. "Now exchanging gifts is traditional, but we don't have to. There will be, however, lots of cooking. And we should _decorate_. Haymitch, you and Katniss should go to the woods and cut down trees—"

"Why would we do that for?" Haymitch asked.

"And Peeta and I will go into town for decorations," continued Effie as if Haymitch hadn't spoken. She was already up, rummaging around for her coat. She walked up to Haymitch and he automatically helped her put it on without even thinking about it, causing Katniss and Peeta to share an amused glance.

"I'll get a list together tonight of all the things we'll need, and I'll be by first thing in the morning. Oh, this is _so_ exciting. Christmas in 12! God bless Paylor for reinstating it as a national holiday." She had hugs for Peeta and Katniss. "Come along, Haymitch. I want everybody in bed early. We have a big, big, big day tomorrow."

They all stared at Effie, who had stopped talking as what she just said hit her.

Her eyes instantly clouded and Haymitch was next to her in an instant, his hand on the small of her back.

She never really talked like her old self, unless she was talking about manners—some things would never change—but when she did, she nearly always went off, into another place, and another time. Normally if Haymitch caught it in time he could stop it.

"Effie?" he said gently. He cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him. "Effie." He said it a little harshly, but her eyes started to clear.

"Haymitch?" she whispered. "What's going on?"

"We were just talking about Christmas," responded Haymitch.

"Christmas?"

"Yah. We were about to head home so you could start on your list."

"List?"

"Of decorations."

"Decorations?"

Haymitch glanced at Katniss and Peeta, who immediately chimed in.

"Yah, Haymitch and I are gonna get trees tomorrow," Katniss said, walking up to them.

"And you and I will go into Town," said Peeta.

"Oh. Right. _Right_. Of course. Yes." She turned to Katniss and Peeta, kissing them both on their cheeks as if she hadn't been one second away from being trapped back in that cell again. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Thank you for dinner."

Haymitch grabbed his coat and put it on as they made their way across to their own home, Haymitch holding her hand in a rare form of affectionate display.

"I'm okay," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He squeezed her hand in return, and they made their way into the house. Haymitch immediately went to start the fire while Effie went upstairs to change into one of his many shirts she'd made her own over the course of the past few years.

When she came back downstairs she had her red hair pinned up, a pair of black leggings on, bright pink leg warmers—again, some things never changed—and one of his grey flannel shirts.

She also had a clipboard in her hand. Where it even came from he didn't even know.

She sat down next to him on the couch, her feet in his lap, and instantly started jotting things down.

It was the smile on her face that had him asking the question. "This event's important to you, isn't it?"

"It's the holiday of all holiday's, Haymitch. I think it'll do the Districts good. Paylor's doing all she can to make sure that they're not as poor as they used to be. And people don't _have_ to exchange gifts."

"But you want to," he said matter-of-factly.

She stiffened. "What? No. I mean we've never." Her hands were everywhere, in her hair, on her neck, in her lap. She wasn't as good at hiding her feelings anymore. Not like she had been before the Rebellion, when he'd never even suspected she was in on it.

Haymitch absentmindedly rubbed her legs, lost in thought.

He didn't know what to call him and Effie. She'd shown up on his doorstep a year and a half after the Rebellion, in the dead of night, and he thought she was a bloody dream, only she wasn't. That strong front she had put on before he had bought Katniss back to 12 had disappeared. She was broken, battered, and bruised, and it took her another year before she finally came out of her shell.

It had been a fight that did it.

She'd been _freezing_ one night, but she hardly ever talked, so she didn't ask him for another blanket, and to find her shivering by the fire in the middle of the night sent him over the edge. So they'd had their first argument, and whatever was said was neither here nor there. All that mattered was that she had fought back, and things had gotten better after that.

Things had gotten complicated the first time she made her way into his bed. It hadn't taken long for the kisses to start after a nightmare—his or hers, it didn't really matter. And things got even more difficult when those kisses that they never talked about started happening during daylight.

And then she slipped into his shower one night, about a year ago, and that's really all it took for things to get extremely complicated.

Except it _wasn't_ complicated. She wasn't his Escort, and he wasn't her Mentor, and yah, they fought every single day, but that's why they worked. She'd made a home here, not just in 12, but in his house, in this God-awful house that used to be so lonely.

Now he always had something to come home to.

"When is this Christmas?" he asked her.

"The 25th," responded Effie, and she seemed to be satisfied that the other subject was dropped.

Only it wasn't.

"I wanna exchange gifts."

She dropped her clipboard.

"Don't be ridiculous Haymitch," she told him, her cheeks red. "Christmas is a _feeling_. The fact that I get to spend it with you and our kids… that's gift enough. We're alive. We're safe. We're… happy. Aren't we?"

He looked at her. He stared at this beautiful woman who was currently comfortable enough to put her feet in his lap. "Yah, Princess," he said, reaching in for a kiss. "We're happy." When he backed away from her she smiled at him.

It had taken way too long for him to get her to give him that kind of smile.

"Then that's all I need this Christmas."


	26. A Proper Meeting

_This is already a posted one-shot of mine, but since this story has gotten a lot more traffic than my other ones, I thought I'd post it. I'm OBSESSED with it, it was always one of my favorite ones. The day of the Reaping of the Quarter Quell has always been one of my favorite things to write. As a one-shot it's called The First Goodbye but I'm changing the title here. I didn't add the entire story here, so if you want to know what happens, or where I went with this, look up the story!_

 _The dialogue is a little off during the Reaping, I'm sure. It's not like this Harry Potter and I can quote this from memory. I've read Hunger Games once. Harry Potter? A million times. I said all that to say that the words aren't verbatim, but you should still get the picture._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **A PROPER MEETING**

 **Rated T**

She tapped her foot nervously and a little impatiently as she waited for them to enter the room. She tried to keep her face void of any emotion, as the Peacekeeper was watching her intently, and she held back her excitement—and tears—when she first saw them enter the room.

She stood up, keeping her eyes on her three Tributes—three… _three_ Tributes. Jesus, could she really do this?

Could she really send Katniss Everdeen, hunter extraordinaire, brilliant, stubborn, hard, and fierce, back into the Arena? Effie felt her heart literally break at the sight of Katniss, dark, puffy circles under her eye, skin pale, face set.

But Effie would give the girl credit. There was a fierceness, an anger of defiance, in those dark gray Seam eyes.

Peeta kept his face completely neutral. Always composed, and impeccable manners. He'd grown up a lot this past year, and it wasn't just because of the Games. He was becoming a man, filling out nicely, though his astonishing blue eyes were missing most of their brilliance.

The tears threatened to fall when her Capitol eyes finally landed on Haymitch. His eyes, so like Katniss', were clearer than she'd ever seen, though he couldn't mask the pain—and the hint of fear—in them.

Haymitch had always been so brave in her eyes, and to see him like this would have nearly broken her, except there was also a determination in his eyes, much like in Katniss' eyes, that said if he was going out, he wasn't doing so without a fight.

Effie turned to the Peacekeeper. "I'd like to be alone with my Tributes now," she said coolly, and his frown deepened, but he made his way to the door.

"Two minutes, Trinket," he said, and then he slammed the door shut.

The room was probably bugged anyway. That wasn't lost on her.

She turned back to the three of them, walking up to Katniss first.

"Big smile," she said softly, putting Katniss' hair behind her shoulder and placing a loose strand behind her ear.

She made her way to Peeta, straightening his shirt. "Shoulders back," she murmured, almost afraid to make eye contact, but she did, and he gave her a faint smile.

It nearly undid her.

When she could stall no longer—Peeta damn near looked perfect, there wasn't much to fix—she made her way to Haymitch.

It took all of her strength, every fiber in her being, to keep her voice steady as she stared into the dark gray eyes of Haymitch Abernathy. Her breath caught in her throat and she reminded herself to breathe. She could do this.

She _had_ to do this.

"Chin up," she finally said, placing a single finger under his chin and lifting his head. He jerked slightly at the touch but she had already moved her fingers by re-straightening his nearly straightened tie. With a confidence she didn't really feel she gave him a small smile. She brushed his hair away from his face, an intimate gesture, and he briefly closed his eyes at her touch. When he opened them back up his eyes were guarded and hers were filled with tears.

"Don't you dare, Princess," muttered Haymitch, and she took a shaky breath, calming her nerves.

At the exact moment the Peacekeeper came back in.

Straightening her back Effie turned around.

Together, they made their way outside.


	27. Catch My Breath

_When I tell y'all that I can turn any song into a Hayffie fan fic, I'm so serious. This isn't a song fic per se, I just thought the song described how Effie was feeling between the Victory Tour and the day of the Reaping. It's Kelly Clarkson's Catch My Breath._

 _I don't wanna be left behind_

 _Distance was a friend of mine_

 _Catching breath in a web of lies_

 _I've spent most of my life_

 _Riding waves, playing acrobat_

 _Shadowboxing the other half_

 _Learning how to react_

 _I've spent most of my time_

 _Catching my breath, letting it go_

 _Turning my cheek for the sake of this show_

 _Now that you know, this is my life_

 _I won't be told what's supposed to be right_

 **CATCH MY BREATH**

 **Rated K**

Effie decided that she wouldn't visit him before the Reaping. She knew if she did she'd probably break down into tears and wouldn't walk on that stage, and then what? She'd be killed. So would her family.

Not that it'd matter.

She was already dead, and had been ever since Katniss and Peeta had threatened to eat those berries.

It would all end today.

Today the world would know her true alliance.

Today she could stop pretending.

She knew where her loyalties lied, and now all of Panem would know too.

There had been too many lies over the years. Lies to her friends. To her family. To the ones she cared about the most.

To herself.

She thought she had become numb to it all. She thought after twenty years of doing this that it could no longer bother her. She took pills to stop the nightmares, not that they worked. They just ensured that she stayed asleep.

She deserved the nightmares.

So she painted her face, and painted on her smile, understanding that she had to play the game. Tributes weren't the only ones who were placed into an Arena. She learned how to react to it all: how she should smile, how she should enunciate one word compared to another, when she should come across as superficial, when she should come across as clueless.

Lies.

So many lies.

But not anymore.

When the train arrived in 12 on that fateful day, Effie rose later than usual. Normally she'd wake early so that she could make her way to Victor's Village to make sure that Haymitch was up and running and wouldn't make them late.

Not today.

Effie Trinket stood in front of her mirror, checking her reflection for the last time. She was proud of herself. She hadn't chickened out. Hadn't even thought about it. She was _tired_ of having to pretend. They would know, the minute they saw her outfit, that she was done playing their Games.

Her dress was orange—bright orange. It flared out at the bottom, stopping at her mid-thigh, showing off her long, muscular legs. They were her favorite part of her body. They'd allowed her to model for nearly a decade. The dress accented her curves, but no one would be paying them any mind.

They would only notice the tiny, little, plastic bugs glued to every single part of her dress.

Butterflies.

Change personified.

Transformation.

She was a new creature, bold in her choice to stand with the symbol of Rebellion.

Because to top off the butterfly dress was a daring wig placed on her head in the shape of a bird whose existence was rebellious in itself.

The mockingjay.

The bird that was never supposed to exist.

The mutation jabberjays should have been destroyed.

Instead they escaped and mated with mockingbirds, creating the mockingjay.

The ultimate symbol of Rebellion, even more than the symbol of transformation that represented a butterfly.

Effie glided a little more lipstick onto her lips, and satisfied that she looked perfect, she put on her black lace gloves and black pumps.

Then she made her way to the stage.

She briefly wondered if she had swallowed a few butterflies with the way her stomach was fluttering the moment she saw them.

Her tributes.

All three of them.

Peeta and Katniss seemed to be completely oblivious, but Haymitch wasn't.

She saw it, the moment their eyes locked, because she knew him. She could read him like a book. They'd worked together for twenty years, and no, it hadn't always been pleasant. In fact, before last year, they had genuinely disliked each other. He had hated her.

She had never hated him, though. Disliked him, sure. Was disappointed in him on numerous occasions. But she had never hated him, especially not the way he had hated her.

And then Katniss and Peeta had come along, and changed everything.

And before she could be dumb enough to believe in happily ever after, those berries had found their way to their Tribute's lips and everything had gone to hell.

Oh, but she knew him. She knew the man that was Haymitch Abernathy.

Drunk.

Horrid manners.

Colleague.

Brilliant.

Victor.

 _Rebel_.

And she had stood by his side for twenty years.

She wouldn't stop now.

So yes, she knew the minute it all clicked into place for him, because he understood her too, even without meaning to.

She saw the shock, then the panic, then the fear, and then the dread in his eyes. It happened in flashes, and before she could blink, they were blank, guarded again.

She gave him a slight nod as she walked up on stage, knowing that he now knew where she stood.

Where she had _always_ stood.

Effie called out Katniss' name, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

This was it.

She knew that it was all about to end now. War was coming. No matter whose name she picked, be it Haymitch or Peeta, there would never be another Reaping day.

This day was historic. And the history books would know which side she stood for. They couldn't control her anymore. She was no longer their puppet. She would no longer be told what was wrong or right.

She inhaled.

She put her hand in the glass bowl, more afraid than ever, picked out a card, and exhaled.


	28. The Last Escort Standing

" _Your one shot chapter Fic is coming along so well. I can't wait to read more! Can you write a Fic where Effie becomes pregnant with Haymitch kid during one of the games or during the victory tour to add drama to an already dramatic situation. Snow finds out and force them to have the child as some sort of example to Rebels or what not?_

 _Maybe name her Saoirse? It means freedom in Gaelic. Maybe have Snow force them to announce her name on live TV. It's like some sort of rebellion Haymitch and Effie risked doing for being forced to do this._

 _Please and thank you!"_

 _QUICKLY became obsessed with this. Enjoy,_ _AVikingandhisHeartbrokenQueen._

 **THE LAST ESCORT STANDING**

 **Rated T**

"Haymitch, I'm pregnant," Effie said. She was quiet, but not _that_ quiet, and it was easy enough to pick up on the conversation.

For a minute he thought the feed had gone out. The silence on the other end was absolute, and for several moments.

And then—

"Haymitch, say something." He didn't have to be in front of Effie Trinket to know that her voice was trembling. She was scared and sad, all rolled into one.

And for good reason.

At that moment the music was turned up.

Haymitch Abernathy always was too damn smart for his own good.

But that was okay.

The damage was already done.

Smiling, he pressed a single button that had his secretary by his side in an instant.

"Get me a train ticket to 12 after my speech at the Victory Ball."

The woman nodded. "Of course, President Snow."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch was drunk out of his mind—even more so than usual—as he left the train and headed home. He wasn't even going to enjoy the feast. He couldn't. He was too drunk to anyway.

But no matter how drunk he got, he kept hearing Effie's words: " _Haymitch I'm pregnant_."

He'd stared at her, dumbfounded, for several moments, before finally blurting out the stupidest question of them all: " _How_?"

He _knew_ how—he remembered _that_ part quite well. But they were _careful_ , damn it, and always had been. He nearly always used to protection, and she was on birth control, and had been long before they even started messing around.

He was pretty sure at some point he fainted or blacked out. He only remembered certain parts of the conversation. Other parts were hazy. He did distinctly remember going weak in the knees and crumbling to the ground at some point—he was pretty sure it was around the time she mentioned she was six months pregnant.

He thought he was going to be sick. Sure he cared about her, and wasn't that a bitch, to have actually let someone in after all this time? But the timing….

This was the worst thing that could ever happen to him, for way too many reasons to count.

But he could think of two right from the beginning.

One: this child would die. His or her name would have their name picked in a Reaping. Children of Victors _always_ went in. And they always died. Never in seventy-five years had a former Victor's child survived a Hunger Game. Not even in Career Districts.

The second reason this couldn't have happened at a worse time is because they were at the beginning stages of a _bloody war_. Districts were Rebelling, the Victory Tour was a disaster, and President Snow himself had visited Katniss, their future Mockingjay.

Haymitch sighed heavily as he walked into his house, closing the door behind him.

 _President Snow_.

Haymitch stood stock still.

He was imagining that smell.

Blood.

Roses.

Poison.

Imagining it because he had been thinking about the President of Panem. There was no way that man was here, in his house.

And then—

Haymitch turned around, his knife sailing through the air, and his mouth dropped open when it was caught in the air by the handle.

"I see you're still handy with a knife." President Snow's voice made Haymitch's skin crawl. The older man stood and walked towards the light switch, flipping it on, and then sat back down at the table, Haymitch's knife still in his hand. "Why don't you sit down, Haymitch? We need to talk."

Haymitch didn't move. Suddenly sober he stared at the man who'd taken everything from him. A hatred so deep that it actually made his blood start to boil made its way through his veins.

"You always were stubborn," said Snow coldly. "Fine. Remain standing. I won't be long." He sat Haymitch's knife down on the table. "You're a smart man. I trust you have already figured out why I'm here."

A single nod.

"Good. That'll make this easier. You and Effie will keep the baby. If my calculations are correct, she'd have gotten pregnant… what around the time of last year's Games? So she should be about six months, correct?"

The room quickly started to spin again.

"You did _such_ a good job with being made an example out of once before, I daresay that once again won't hurt."

Haymitch scowled.

"Oh, don't give me that look. You deserved what happened to you, you know. All you had to do was play the Game, Haymitch, but you refused to. And now your… Mockingjay is learning the same lesson. But see… Ms. Everdeen is still young." Snow leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "She still has some fight left in her. She's rebellious, like all teenagers. Like you were at her age, when you let the axe kill who should have been the _real_ Quarter Quell winner."

Haymitch gritted his teeth.

"You know what my _real_ issue is?" Snow stood up, hands clasped behind his back, and walked towards Haymitch. "It's not that 12 shouldn't have winners. I mean sometimes being the underdog makes for very good TV. No. My issue is that the Tributes from 12 don't play fair. You _cheat_ to win. It's quite annoying, really, wouldn't you say?"

Haymitch didn't answer.

"I have a system in place, and it's currently being threatened." Snow started pacing, his hands still behind his back. "I know that you know about the Districts Uprising. I know you're still just as clever as ever. All the alcohol you consume hasn't lowered your brain cells, unfortunately. You've got incredible instincts, which is how I lost your feed in 11, after that man was shot, and a few other times on the Victory Tour. It's how I could hear your conversations loud and well in Effie's room, but never a peep out of your room. Katniss' room either. I'm sure you had something to do with that."

He stopped pacing and looked at Haymitch.

"You're just as much a rebel now as you were twenty years ago, Haymitch. I thought about killing you, but that'd just be putting you out of your misery. I want you to live for as long as you can. Why do you think you haven't died from a failed liver or kidney? I make sure that Ripper gets the absolute best. It's cheap liquor that does you in. Did you know that? But if I get you the strong stuff, the stuff that'll get you drunk quicker, you can't drink as much." Snow smiled darkly. "You're welcome."

He started pacing again, and Haymitch watched him rapidly.

"No, I want you alive. But I have a new way to punish you. A new way to… make an example out of you. You and Effie _will_ have this baby. It'll be announced publically in a few days time. It'll be the biggest scandal the Capitol has seen in decades. They'll want every piece of your child. Oh, we'll vote on names. They'll be a… pool, if you will, of suggested names, and citizens of the Capitol will vote on their favorite name. Once we find out the sex of the child we'll narrow down the names and have the Capitol vote. Even _I_ will get in on the fun. I myself hope you have a girl. I think Masilee is a pretty name. Or Nova. Wasn't that the name of the girl you were seeing?"

At the mention of Masilee's name Haymitch jerked. At the mention of Nova's name he bent over and threw up all the liquor he'd had for the day.

Snow cackled out a laugh.

"It's been nice chatting with you, Abernathy. Maybe now you'll think twice about Rebelling." He walked to the door, opening it. "Oh. And congratulations, by the way. I'm sure you and Effie are thrilled."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch squeezed Effie's hand, attempting to calm her. She squeezed it back, and he knew she was ready for what it is they were about to do.

It was dangerous, but they didn't care. They knew what they were doing.

Everyone was in position.

Everything was set.

Now they just needed everything to go according to plan.

"And without further adieu," President Snow said to the excited crowd, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a large white envelope, "Here's the moment we've all been waiting for, after three months. I will let the happy couple do the honor of presenting the world the name of their future child."

Haymitch and Effie walked up to the stage, painted smiles on their faces as they thanked President Snow, Effie's stomach bigger than ever. She was due in a couple of weeks. They had to wait several moments before the crowd died down. The two of them were _loved_ , worshipped, even more so than Peeta and Katniss.

It was sickening.

Haymitch grabbed the envelope while Effie started reciting the speech Peeta had prepared. With shaking hands he waited for Effie to turn to him, signaling him so that he would open the envelope.

The name on the card made him realize that no matter what happened, they were doing the right thing.

 _Masilee Nova Abernathy_.

Haymitch cleared his throat. "The name of our child will be Saoirse." The crowd was silent. They knew it hadn't been one of the names selected. Haymitch didn't look at Snow. Instead he looked at the camera. "It means freedom, which I hope this child will have, unlike Effie and I, and unlike Peeta and Katniss—"

At that moment a shot rang out.

His reaction was instinctual.

Natural.

He jumped in front of Effie, just as the bullet pierced what would have been her heart, if his head hadn't stopped it.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie finished softly singing 'The Hanging Tree' and gently placed Saoirse down into her crib. The one-year old sighed softly, a gentle smile on her face, because she would never grow up in a world where she'd have to be afraid.

Her father had seen to that.

Effie closed the girl's door and walked the familiar path to Haymitch's— _her_ —bedroom. She sighed and closed the door, leaning against it.

The room still smelled like him.

Even after a year.

She walked to the nightstand and picked up the picture of Haymitch that Peeta had drawn. He looked happier in this picture than he ever had while living.

"I miss you," she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

There were some days she wondered if their plan had been worth it. They knew the risk involved in changing the baby's name. Haymitch had predicted that if they didn't say the name on the card, there'd be an assassination attempt on her life.

Not his. They'd want him to suffer.

What they hadn't expected was for the attempt to happen during live broadcasting. They thought they'd have _time_. There was supposed to be a decoy and everything. Except it never got that far. Haymitch had taken the bullet for her, and not two seconds later, Snow was dead, killed by Katniss' bow, but for what? What was the point of freedom without Haymitch?

He wasn't supposed to die.

The war was… unpredictable. They had no clue the repercussions they would suffer.

So much death.

A bomb exploded, nearly killing everybody.

It was the Capitol versus the Districts.

The Districts won, but not without some casualties.

Nothing of the Capitol remained. The Districts had overthrown it, no questions asked, and nobody was safe.

She barely got out of it alive.

Carrying Haymitch's baby was her only ticket to living.

It was the only reason she was alive.

 _ **The Last Escort Standing.**_

 _Based on a true story._

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch blinked at the television screen for several moments, his mouth open.

"What the _fuck_ was _that_?" he finally asked.

"'Based on a true story,'" read Katniss. " _Whose_ true story?"

" _This_ is what Plutarch came up with?" Peeta asked skeptically. " _This_ is the movie that won countless Oscars and Golden Globes?"

Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss stared at the screen in continued disbelief until they couldn't take it anymore: the three of them burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs until tears streamed down their faces.

"This was even worse than ours," Katniss said between breaths.

"Way worse," agreed Peeta, snickering.

"I have to call him," Haymitch gasped. "Effie, come on, let's go home so we can—" Haymitch stopped talking once he glanced at Effie. She was the only one who hadn't laughed. In fact she hadn't even moved. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap and her face was set. "Effie?"

He was by her side in a second, crouching down, his heart in his throat. It'd been _years_ since she'd had an episode, though she still had nightmares every now and then. Plutarch had assured them that the movie wouldn't show her in a cell, that it was a love story loosely based on their lives, but clearly _something_ was wrong.

Only her eyes weren't cloudy like they usually were when she was trapped in her own mind.

They were filled with rage.

"What's wrong Effie?" asked Haymitch.

"He… that… Plutarch…."

"Okay. We're kinda getting somewhere. How about complete sentences, Princess?"

"Don't _joke_ , Haymitch. That man… he… Plutarch _killed_ you! He killed you off!" She stood up, suddenly furious. "He killed you off like it was the easiest thing in the world!"

Haymitch stepped back several paces, and Katniss and Peeta quickly stood up too.

"Effie, it was just a movie," Katniss said.

"I bloody hell know what it was, Katniss," snapped back Effie, and Katniss gaped. "I'm not stupid. He had no right. No _right_. What a horrid thing to do."

"Ef, it's a movie about _you_. You couldn't die, that'd just be tragic," Haymitch reasoned.

"Right, and watching a movie about me raising our non-existent daughter by myself because you're _dead_ isn't tragic at all."

"He sacrificed himself for you," said Peeta softly. "It's what he'd have done. It's what he _did_ do, only he didn't die."

"Exactly! Because that's what _could_ have happened. To _all_ of you, at any moment. You all could have died. And to have it just… thrust on me like that… with no warning… as if I'm supposed to be _happy_ because me and my non-existent child survived, only to be alone…." Her eyes were filled with tears. "Well I don't think it's amusing at all."

She bent down and grabbed her jacket and marched out of the house. Katniss and Peeta stared at Haymitch, who hadn't moved an inch.

" _Haymitch_ ," Katniss finally said, and he jerked.

"Right. I'll go talk to her." He put on his shoes and grabbed his own jacket, following Effie. The snow slowed him down, but he finally caught up to her.

He pulled her into him and kissed her, not softly, kindly, or gently, but hard, dominantly, and severely. When he finally pulled himself away they were both breathing hard. Then he grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest.

"See? I'm alive, Princess. It was just a stupid movie, made by a stupid man, who wanted to make a lot of money."

Her hands slithered up his chest and she brought her face closer to his. This times the kiss was loving, sweet, and perfect. They rarely kissed like this, unless it was after a particularly bad nightmare, and Haymitch supposed that that's exactly what this was like for her.

If he had to watch a movie where she had died, he wouldn't have found it funny either.

"Stay alive," she mumbled against his lips. "At least until I kill you."

Haymitch grinned. "Deal."

 _OBSSESSED with this prompt! I was kind of worried about how I was going to pull it off at first, and then I was like DUHHH MAKE IT A MOVIE! ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN! Like I was REALLY ever going to kill off Haymitch. Hope you all enjoyed this._


	29. The Morning After

_Yall, PLESE keep these prompts coming! They are so juicy and delicious and my brain is in overdrive! I absolutely love them! Please leave it in a Review, though, as opposed to a message, because they're easier to keep track of that way. Thanks!_

" _Hello I love your fan fictions I read them all. I have a prompt can you write one where haymitch and effie are caught in bed together by chaff and the day after he Wont stop teasing them._

 _I hope you write this It would mean the world_

 _Thank you if you do xx."_

 _Bloody brilliant. Once again, I'm obsessed. I hope it's everything you wanted, Fatbumper._

 **THE MORNING AFTER**

 **Rated M**

Chaff moaned, his hands immediately finding their way to his aching head and over his throbbing eyes. _Why_ was it so damned _bright_ in his penthouse? He wanted to ask aloud who the hell opened his curtains but he knew if he talked his face would fall off.

With the utmost strength he could muster he removed his hands from his face and opened his eyes, ignoring the pain of the burn as his eyes adjusted to the light. It didn't take him long to realize he wasn't at his place at all.

He was in Haymitch's penthouse.

Well how the fuck had he gotten here?

Bits and pieces of last night started coming back to him.

His second to last night as a free man.

Bars. Drinking. So much drinking. It was his second to last night on earth, of course there was drinking.

Stumbling around the Capitol.

Capitol jail.

Effie bailing them out.

Wasn't Johanna with them at some point?

Chaff looked around. He was on their couch, in the same soiled clothes from last night, a blanket covering him, and a half-full bucket next to him.

He assumed last night had been a success, only he could barely fucking remember it.

He threw the cover off of him and slowly got up. He needed to check on Haymitch. Chaff was surely going to die in the Arena, but his death would _not_ be in vain, so he needed to make sure Haymitch was at least alive in order to help carry out the plan.

On his way to Haymitch's he wondered if Trinket had switched them on purpose. If his floor stopped before theirs, why had she brought him here?

That woman was mind-boggling.

When Chaff neared Haymitch's room he stopped. He heard a low moan and sighed.

Shit.

His best friend was having a nightmare.

He should go in there and wake him, because none of them liked reliving their Games.

He ever so slowly turned the knob, knowing if he barged in he'd have a knife thrown at his face, and Chaff didn't want that. He'd save the knife throwing for the Quarter Quell.

He wasn't sure what he expected when he peaked inside. In all their years of friendship they'd woken the other up from nightmares enough times to no longer be surprised.

But _this_?

Chaff quickly realized that this was no nightmare.

Maybe for him.

But definitely not for Haymitch.

Chaff was too stunned to move, so for several moments he watched Haymitch grip Effie's hips as she rode him. Trinket had a nice back, he noted. Muscular. Good lines. He couldn't see much else, because the rest of her was entangled in Haymitch's sheets, but he could imagine how the rest of her looked.

"Cum," Haymitch said gently, and Chaff had _never_ heard his best friend's voice like that, and he vowed he never wanted to again.

Ever again.

And he'd never seen Trinket actually listen to him. With a soft whimper Effie snaked her hands around Haymitch's, and in a move that Chaff realized was practiced, common, even, she used his hands to balance herself as she road out her orgasm.

Holy shit.

He wasn't just banging her.

This was… intimate.

Understanding that this was private, Chaff slithered out of the room, careful to quietly close the door behind him, and made his way back to the living room.

His friend was in good hands.

Always had been.

After about an hour Haymitch came in, dressed for the day. As soon as he saw Chaff he grinned, and Chaff grinned back.

The dark-skinned man held out a glass for the olive-skinned man and Haymitch sat down next to his best friend, taking the drink.

"So you were never gonna tell me?" asked Chaff.

"Tell you what?" Haymitch asked after a drink.

"That you were banging the fuck outta your Escort."

Haymitch dropped his glass and stared at Chaff. "Are you _insane_?" Haymitch looked around.

"You know damn well Beetee overrode the system. No one can hear us."

"You think I'm worried about _Snow_ hearing you? I'm worried about _Effie_. She'll _kill_ me. Slit my throat with those claws she calls nails. She's a redhead under that wig. She's fucking insane." Haymitch glanced around again, and deciding that he was safe, breathed a little easier. "You can't say shit like that."

Chaff watched him for several moments. "You like her."

Haymitch didn't meet his friend's eyes. Instead he bent down and picked up his fallen glass, immediately pouring another drink and gulping it down.

"Relax, Haymitch. It's not a big deal. I've suspected for years now."

"Well then you'd be wrong. This is… new."

"How new?"

Haymitch snarled. "Does it matter?"

Chaff shrugged. "Guess not. Effie's…" Haymitch glared at him. "She's different. She's good for you."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "There's this thing called a war coming, and I really don't have time for this shit."

"Well maybe if you hadn't always been a drunk dick to her for the past twenty years you'd have had more time."

"Then saying goodbye would be even harder." Chaff's eyebrows shot up. "For her," Haymitch mumbled, taking a drink, and Chaff did the same to hide his smile. "Don't say anything, Chaff."

"I won't," he grinned.

"Not just to Effie. To anyone. It's dangerous. It was stupid, to get involved. I still don't know how it happened. One minute I was saying goodnight to Katniss and Peeta after they'd won, the next minute I was in her room undressing her. I wasn't even drunk. Totally sober. I even spent the night."

"You do know what happened," argued Chaff. Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I bet you a bottle of your best liquor she pledged her allegiance to you. To the Rebellion. To the Mockingjay."

Haymitch slumped. "Of course she did. I had no fucking clue that all that makeup and all those wigs were a mask. I had no idea who Effie Trinket was, only I did, because I'd seen the way her eyes had dimmed over the years. The frowns. The tears. The sadness. The pills. She's fucked up. Not as bad as us, mind you. But she's broken."

"Plutarch almost wet himself when he saw that Mockingjay wig on her head."

Haymitch scowled. "I could have fucking killed her."

"I bet she thought that'd be easier than pulling your name at the Reaping."

Haymitch took another sip.

"Well if all goes according to plan, you'll have created a world where the two of you can be free to be accepted."

"Yah, if I don't die in the process," Haymitch said.

"Then you better stay alive, Soldier."

Before Haymitch could respond a pair of clicking heels had him going silent.

"Oh good, you two are up," Effie Trinket, Capitol Escort, said. "You two owe me a new pair of shoes for last night, by the way." Her hands were on her hips, and she was glaring, but her bark was always much worse than her bite when it came to them.

Chaff gave her his most charming smile. "I'm sure Haymitch has me covered."

Haymitch jerked in his seat and glared at Chaff.

"I'll have you two know that if you pull anymore stunts like you did last night I will _leave_ you in jail."

Chaff grinned. "That'd be doing me a favor seeing I'm going into the Arena tomorrow."

"And how would you get Sponsors without me?" asked Haymitch.

"We have allies. I can work with them." Then she turned her attention back to Chaff, suddenly somber.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Trinket."

"You were always a pain in the ass," she said, her smile watery. "But there's nothing I wouldn't have done for you." Before any of them knew what was happening, Effie had embraced Chaff in a hug. After several moments Chaff hugged her back.

"Don't cry, Trinket. I'm not worth the tears."

She took a calming breath and stepped back. "I should go wake the kids. In case this is goodbye, take care of yourself, Chaff. And protect them at all costs." He nodded to her. Effie's eyes cleared as she stared at Haymitch. "Straighten that tie. And you've had enough to drink. Sponsors are waiting for you."

"Of course, Princess," said Haymitch with a roll of his eyes.

But he grabbed her hand before she could walk away, brushing his thumb over her knuckle.

Comfort.

She looked surprised, her eyes quickly darting to Chaff, before returning back to Haymitch. Soft blue met dark grey.

"We're a team, right?"

She smiled at him. "Of course we are."

"Then don't worry about Chaff, okay? Or Katniss and Peeta. You just go out there and be Effie."

She nodded, clutched his fingers briefly, and then walked away.

Haymitch backed away from the bar and started fixing his tie, ignoring the amused grin on Chaff's face.

"Don't you have training or somewhere to be?" mumbled Haymitch.

Chaff finished off his drink and then stood. "Okay, Haymitch. I can tell when I'm not wanted. I'll see you later." Chaff walked—slowly—to the elevator, but before the doors closed to take him down a floor, he called out, "You could do way worse, you know. You really could."

Haymitch sighed, heading back towards his room.

God he fucking hated mornings after. He actually thought he'd had a _good_ morning after for once. Waking up with Effie going down on him, and then sinking down on him, had been one of his better morning-after memories.

And then Chaff came along and _ruined_ it.

He really did fucking hate the morning after.


	30. Making Plans

_Because I was serious when I said any and every song reminds me of Hayffie. This, of course, is my own prompt. FYI, please remember to leave a prompt in a REVIEW. It's really important, because I get like a billion emails a day. The song is Wale f/ Usher, "Matrimony." Not a song fic, just an inspriration._

 _If there's a question of my heart, you've got it_

 _It don't belong to anyone but you_

 _If there's a question of my love, you've got it_

 _Baby, don't worry, I've got plans for you, yeah_

 _Baby, I've been making plans of love_

 _Baby, I've been making plans for you, yeah_

 _Baby, I've been making plans_

 _Baby, I've been making plans for you_

 **MAKING PLANS**

 **Rated K**

He saw her make a beeline for him and took a few moments to debate on if he should run, or just stay put. In the end he ended up staying put. This one was like a hound dog. She'd eventually sniff him out anyway, so he might as well get it over with now—whatever _it_ was. And there was definitely an it, because she was scowling.

Not her signature scowl, but her scowling snarl, that let him know that he was in trouble, and in serious trouble at that, with Johanna Mason.

"I got a bone to pick with you," she said without preamble when she reached him.

He sighed heavily. "This is the first conversation we've had since you've been here. How could I _possibly_ have done something wrong?"

" _You're_ the reason," said Johanna, pointing her finger in his face, "that there's no liquor at this event."

Haymitch opened his mouth and then shut it. "Okay. You're right. But in my defense I told Katniss and Peeta they should serve it."

"But they didn't wanna tempt you." He could hear the accusation in Johanna's voice and suddenly he wished for a drink. She always had been a pain in the ass. She backed away from him, looking him up and down, her hand on her hip.

Her snarl softened ever so slightly.

"Sobriety suits you, I guess. Even if you are still brainless."

Coming from Johanna, she had just paid him the highest compliment she could muster, so he took it for what it was and gave her a small smile.

"Next time tell your star-struck lovers to not be so noble." With that she stalked off, her dandelion gold dress—see through, no less—not at all slowing her down.

Shortly after Johanna left a familiar face walked up to him.

This one he gave a soft smile to. "Hazelle Hawthorne," he said.

"Haymitch Abernathy," responded the woman with her own smile. "May I trouble you for a dance?"

"Why not?" he shrugged, and he stepped up to her. They swayed to the music without speaking for a few moments before Haymitch broke the silence. "How's 2 treating you and the kids?"

"Better than 12 ever did. But I do miss it here. 12 will always be home." Haymitch stayed quiet and stared at Hazelle.

Hazelle, who'd always had a… _thing_ for him.

"You look good," she said quietly, and suddenly he realized that it was time to end this dance. "How long has it been since you've stopped drinking?"

"Officially about seven years, though I started ten years ago. Had a couple of relapses along the way."

"Right after the Rebellion, then."

"About a year after I tried to get my life together."

"Looks like you succeeded." She smiled warmly at him and fortunately the music stopped right then. He immediately let her go and she stepped back, turning to face the crowd, but staying next to him. "It's been fun, being back. I wasn't sure how I'd take it, or how I'd feel but… despite how different 12 looks, it'll always be home."

Haymitch made a non-committal sound, and then the two of them stood in silence for a few moments.

"Who's that dancing with Peeta?" asked Hazelle, and Haymitch's eyes made their way to the dance floor.

His stomach flip-flopped, though he ignored it.

"That's Effie," he responded.

She whipped her head towards him, her eyes surprised. "Effie, Effie? Effie _Trinket_?"

"How many Effie's do we know?" asked Haymitch.

Hazelle turned back towards Peeta, her face completely masked.

He felt himself starting to scowl.

"I'm… surprised. She's…."

"Careful," Haymitch said, his voice cold, and she looked at him, her eyes shocked.

"I just didn't think she'd be here, is all. She looks… different. She's pretty without all the excess makeup and ridiculous wig. She looks…"

"Human," finished Haymitch, understanding Hazelle.

"Yah. Human. I heard rumors of her being on our side, but… I wasn't sure. I guess this is proof. Not to mention she's the only Escort left alive, so…." Hazelle shrugged. "How long is she in town for?"

"Ever." He looked at her. "She lives here."

Hazelle stared back at him, searching his eyes. "Oh. I see." She turned, her eyes back on the former Escort and Victor. "She looks happier. How long has she been here?"

"It'll be ten years in a few months."

She nodded, putting it together. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but at that moment Katniss approached them.

She smiled brilliantly at Hazelle, hugging the woman.

"You look beautiful, Katniss," Hazelle said. "Gale sends his apologies. He had a previous engagement."

Haymitch very much doubted Hazelle noticed the change in Katniss' demeanor at the mention of Gale's name. Years of having to pretend to smile for the cameras kept her lips in place, but her grey eyes briefly darted to Haymitch's, who smirked.

"Tell Gale hello," was all Katniss said, and then she was standing in front of Haymitch. "Dance with me."

"You're the woman of the hour," Haymitch said, and they made their way to the dance floor.

"If you dance with one more woman that isn't Effie, she's going to kill you," remarked Katniss seriously.

Haymitch blinked at her. "What?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You've danced with nearly every woman except Effie. She's probably offended."

Haymitch frowned and glanced at Effie, who was now talking with Plutarch and Beetee. She was laughing, her eyes amused, but… she was off. Something was off.

"Effie knows how I feel," muttered Haymitch, suddenly uncomfortable.

Katniss raised her eyebrows. "Does she? Do _you_ even know you feel?"

Haymitch glared at her. "Are you talking, Sweetheart?"

"Hey, I'm the one in the wedding dress. I got married today remember? You gave me away."

"I know. I'm pretty sure I was there."

"Look, I know I don't have a lot of room to talk, okay? But Effie's been by your side for thirty years, minus the one year she stayed in the Capitol after the war. I think after ten years of living here you should be okay with a little PDA. Even Peeta and I hold hands when we're in town."

"I do PDA," Haymitch mumbled, suddenly offended. "Bloody hell, we showed up here together."

"Not really. No one saw that. You were both in the wedding party."

Haymitch stopped dancing and rubbed his hands over his face. "You're making me miss the bottle, Sweetheart."

"You're pathetic," Katniss said. She was serious, but she also said it with affection.

"If Effie doesn't know how I feel about her by now, she's insane," argued Haymitch.

"She just wants you to claim her."

"All of 12 knows we're together."

"Well Hazelle doesn't live in 12, Haymitch, and she's had her eye on you all night."

"Jesus." He rubbed his face again. "This is all your fault. Why did you have to even have a wedding? Why couldn't you just have a toasting like a regular 12 couple?"

"Because Effie wanted to plan a wedding, and because we care about her, we let her."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed. "Touché." He sighed, chancing another glance at Effie. She was now talking with Paylor, and she was laughing again.

God she was beautiful when she laughed.

"She's danced with other people too," Haymitch said, trying one last time.

Katniss looked at him like she truly pitied him. "Every man who's asked her to dance knows she's in love with you, Haymitch."

Haymitch jerked, not knowing how to respond.

At that moment Peeta came up to them, wrapping his arms around his bride.

"Hey, Haymitch. When are you gonna ask Effie to dance?"

Haymitch cursed, shaking his head.

This was why they had insisted on no drinks. Because of this moment right here, that they probably plotted and planned in order to drive him completely mental.

If he didn't love them so much he'd kill them, just to put himself out of his misery.

"I'll see you two love birds later," Haymitch said, and he moodily walked away.

He had every intention of dancing with Effie, damn it. He couldn't help it if Greasy Sae had gotten to him first. And after her, they all seemed to flock towards him: Annie, Delly, Cressida, and then Hazelle. And it wasn't like men from the District hadn't lined up to dance with Effie.

Though those men did certainly know that he and Effie were… whatever they were. They didn't have a title or anything, but he never thought it was an issue. Long gone were the days of her being his Escort, and him being her Mentor. And they were too damn old to be boyfriend and girlfriend.

They were practically husband and wife.

And there it was again. Those two words that he'd been trying to avoid for the past few years. He thought he'd totally gotten it out of his mind until Peeta popped the question to Katniss and he'd thought about it at least once a day for the past year.

They didn't _need_ to be married. In essence they _were_ married. They certainly fought like an old married couple.

It was stupid, really. He was too damn old to be feeling like this.

It's not like was confused or anything.

Just… conflicted at the moment.

They were happy… weren't they?

She _seemed_ happy. Damn sure happier than when she had shown up on his doorstep one day. The Effie Trinket he had known was nowhere in sight, and it'd taken him, Katniss, and Peeta a full year to get her to admit she wasn't okay.

And then as soon as she admitted it, the nightmares came like never before. It took another year for her to actually sleep through the night.

The first time she'd slept through the night had been in his bed, his arms around her.

He quickly realized that if she was going to get better, he had to get better, and it was a horrible process, going through withdrawals, but for the first time in two years Effie Trinket had a project, and she nursed him back to health and somehow healed herself in the process.

They'd grown back together.

She reminded him of a little thing he'd given up on many years ago: hope.

And here it was, personified, living, breathing, _loving_ , right in front of his face, in all of her five-six glory, dressed in the most beautiful dress he'd ever seen her in—one of Cinna's many designs that were still being made in the late designer's name.

In Haymitch's honest opinion Effie looked even more stunning than Katniss. Dandelion yellow hugged every curve, in every proper and improper place. The bottom half was gold-encrusted jewels. It was over-the-top for 12's standards, but it suited Effie just fine, which meant Haymitch loved it.

He was staring.

He knew he was, because when Effie glanced up their eyes locked.

She blushed and looked down, and he realized what was off about her.

How many times had they played this game, in the course of the Games? How many parties had they gone to together, only to ignore each other once they were there? In all of their years together, they'd only danced together once. Even after they started sleeping together they had to make sure that no one ever suspected.

Old habits die hard.

But they weren't in the Games anymore, and they had nothing to hide, from others, or themselves.

He walked up to her and she stood there, her hands everywhere: neck, face, hair.

She was nervous.

He smiled at her and she instantly relaxed.

 _Her smile_ , she had called it once. " _It's the smile you reserve just for me_ ," she had said.

"Would you like to dance?" asked Haymitch, and she didn't even hesitate. She was in his arms in seconds, and pretty soon there was no one else on the dance floor.

"It's certainly about time you asked me," she said much too casually. "If you had danced with Johanna before me I was going home."

Haymitch grinned. "Jealous?"

"Only of one," Effie admitted. "I very much wanted to punch her teeth in the entire night."

Haymitch snorted. "I don't know why. She's nothing more than some woman who used to live in 12."

"And clean up after you. And if she could clean your house and still like you, then what she had is more than some little crush."

Haymitch ran his thumbs across her cheeks. "You _are_ jelaous."

"I said I was," she said.

Haymitch shook his head. "Well the feeling's not at all mutual."

Effie muttered something that distinctly sounded like, "Couldn't tell," and he held in a grin. Jealous Effie turned into Possessive Effie at night.

"You know you're the first person I've asked to dance tonight?" asked Haymitch, switching topics.

"Really?" Effie asked. "You've certainly spent a lot of time on the dance floor."

"Yet the one I wanted to dance with never approached me."

She laughed, her body relaxing in his arms. "Well it's only proper manners to let the guy do the asking."

"What is this proper manners you speak of?"

Effie rolled her eyes—a not so proper action she'd gotten from Haymitch—and smirked—another bad habit she'd picked up from him. "Sadly I don't think you're joking."

This time it was his turn to smirk. He pulled her closer, his hands sliding down to the small of her back. "You look perfect tonight, Effie." His voice was doing that _thing_ again, that mixture of awe and love and desire, all rolled into one sound.

She took a deep breath. "I know you're not much for PDA, but you really make me want to kiss you right now." He arched an eyebrow. "And I'm going to be extremely rude and ignore how you feel."

Her lips were soft, and on him before he knew it, but he didn't mind.

He could kiss Effie for the rest of his life and be content.

And when they walked home, hand in hand, he slid his free hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing the little velvet box he'd been carrying around for the past several months, knowing that he was making the right decision.

He'd let their kids have their day, but he had a plan in mind.

Starting with heading to the bakery tomorrow for some bread to toast.


	31. All These Rooms Look Alike

" _Hey really enjoy your stories_

 _How about effie and haymitch have to share a bed somehow and then smut smut smut. But they have never done anything before."_

 _A/N: For some reason I haven't been in the mood to write smut lately, but I loved this idea. Not sure how detailed it'll get, but check the rating. If it's T, it's not too detailed. If it's M, it is. Here you go, Sash._

 **ALL THESE ROOMS LOOK ALIKE**

 **RATED M**

She gasped when she heard a loud thud and then a moan.

It was the stench that had her choking on her scream. She knew that smell.

 _Haymitch_ , she thought.

Before she could say anything he fell down face first into her bed.

Nearly on top of her.

"What's goin' on?" he slurred.

"I could ask you the same thing," sighed Effie.

"Trinket?" She could feel his death glare, even if she couldn't see it in the dark. "What are you doin' in my bed?"

She wondered how much brain damage she'd have if she banged her head against the headboard until sunrise.

"You're in _my_ bed, Haymitch," she said warily.

She could make him out now, his silhouette in the dark, and she could see him looking around, trying to figure out if what she said was true.

"Oh. Well all these rooms look alike," mumbled Haymitch, and he proceeded to place his head down on legs.

"Haymitch," Effie scolded. "If you don't get your drunk self off of me and out of my bed in the next three seconds, I'll take all your liquor and pour it down the drain."

"Nope. Tired. Can't walk. Lucky I made it here." His voice was thick with drink. She had a hard time following him.

"Haymitch you absolutely positively can _not_ stay here. It's not _proper_."

"Trinket, you've worked with me for fifteen years. I don't give a flying fuck about proper. Can you shut up? Your voice makes my head hurt."

Effie scowled into the night. "Right. My voice. Whatever makes you sleep at night."

"Wouldn't it be joyous _to_ sleep? I can't walk, Effie. Take pity on a poor drunk, won't you?"

Forget banging her head against her headboard. Maybe she'd just jump out the 12th floor window and kill herself.

Then she remembered the forcefield and rolled her eyes.

She was stuck.

With Haymitch.

In her bed.

"Honestly, Haymitch, if you're going to stay here at least get on the other side. You're quite heavy."

He groaned. "Never bloody satisfied," and she resisted the urge to kick him in his face.

That wasn't very nice.

Not that he deserved nice.

He rolled over, ending up flat on his back on the other side of the bed.

"Turn over," she demanded.

"Shush woman. Tryin' to sleep here."

"You'll choke on your own vomit, Haymitch. Turn over."

He blinked and turned towards her as she started to get out of bed, enjoying the ability to breathe now that he was off of her. "Careful, Trinket. It almost sounded like you cared."

"Of course I care," she muttered as she started taking off his shoes. "How many times have I done this?"

He frowned into the night. "A lot I think."

"That's an understatement." She put his shoes down next to the bed. "Turn over." She walked to her vanity and grabbed her empty trashcan and placed it next to him. He slowly turned over, his eyes watching her figures—there were two of them—as she grabbed a glass from her bar. Then she disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a full glass of water in her hand. She placed it on the nightstand next to him. She grabbed the box of Kleenex from her vanity and put it next to the water.

He stiffened and grabbed her hand, suddenly sober, when she reached for the knife in his back.

She stilled, their eyes locking. "Relax," she said quietly, but her voice firm. "I'm not too keen on getting my throat slit if you have a nightmare tonight."

His grip was tight, his eyes dark, his scowl fierce. She stared at him, unmoving, until his grip relaxed. He watched her warily as she placed the knife on her vanity. Then she went to her closet and returned with an extra blanket and placed it on top of him.

"I do this a lot or what?"

"What, come home drunk?"

"Come to your room."

"No. This is the first. But it's the same routine if you're in your room or the living room."

"You always remove my knife?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter," Effie said, and it was her tone that had him sitting up a little.

"What happened?"

"It was a long time ago, Haymitch. Let it go."

"Did I hurt you?"

"Let's just say I learned the hard way not to wake you from a nightmare, okay? Leave it at that. Go to bed. The quicker you go to sleep the quicker you'll wake up and leave my room."

Haymitch listened to her get back under the covers, her scent of cherry blossoms hitting him harder than ever.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked again. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. She was Capitol. But it was something about how routine tonight was—taking off the shoes, getting him water, grabbing her trashcan, and putting a blanket over him—that showed him that she didn't deserve to be hurt.

Effie sighed. "You didn't mean to," replied Effie finally, her voice soft. "I don't think you were ever fully awake."

"Where?" his voice was cold, and he was trying to keep the anger—and disgust—from consuming him.

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

"No." He had sobered up now. He turned to face her. "Where?"

"My neck. I got too close. It was my fault." He looked at her, noticing her wig was gone. It was too dark to see the color of her hair, but it looked soft.

He gulped and moodily dropped back on the bed, facing the ceiling. "I'm sorry," he said after several moments.

"It's okay." Her voice was thick with sleep, and pretty soon soft snores were coming out of her.

Leave it to Effie to even snore properly.

He should go. This was dangerous. He wasn't sure why he was so uncomfortable with the idea of hurting her, but he hated the thought of doing so. He was probably sober enough to make it to his own bed.

Until the room started spinning the minute he sat up.

He closed his eyes, though that didn't help.

Well shit.

He slowly lied back down and took deep, calming breaths.

 _Why_ did he drink so much?

Oh yah. Because their Tributes didn't stand a fucking chance this year. They'd both scored a two. A _two_. That was low, even for 12.

He pushed it out of his mind. He wouldn't think about it. Couldn't think about it.

Pretty soon sleep consumed him.

He was woken up again by screams. He immediately sat up, the room spinning in circles, as he reached around for his knife.

The knife that was gone.

He groaned, his head pounding, as he remembered that Effie had taken his knife.

Effie.

He snapped awake and immediately clamped his hand over Effie's mouth.

He didn't remove his fingers, even as she scratched and clawed at him.

"Effie, wake up. Wake up, damn it!" He wouldn't slap her, even if that would have her snapped her out of it. He was about to grab the glass of water when she stilled. Her eyes immediately cleared and she stared at him.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" he spat.

She gasped and pushed him away, scrambling out of bed.

She was terrified. She was shaking, visibly shaking, her eyes darting all around. He could see her clearly now that the sun was starting to rise.

"Effie?" She whimpered and let out a strangled cry, sliding against the wall and onto the floor.

Haymitch was still royally drunk and getting out of bed proved to be quite the challenge, but he made his way over to Effie, bending—okay, stumbling—down towards her.

"What's wrong, Princess?"

"Nightmare," she gasped out.

He frowned. "Nightmare? What, did your hair go grey or somethin'?"

He wasn't joking. Not in the least. It never once crossed his thick skull that she could have real nightmares.

"I see them, Haymitch," she gulped. "Every bloody night I see them. Sometimes only one or two. Sometimes all of them. Sometimes in the order I pick. Sometimes they're mixed up."

He stiffened and looked at her. _Really_ looked at her.

Her hair was as black as night. Her eyes as blue as 4's prettiest and clearest ocean. Her skin creamy and soft. Her lips full. Tempting.

She was fucking beautiful.

But aside from that… she was haunted.

Ghosts swirled in those blue eyes of hers.

She was broken.

"I still know their names, Haymitch," she whispered fiercely. "I've never forgotten them. Not a single one. I know how they all died. I see it every night in my dreams."

He was stunned.

"Effie… you… you can't talk like that."

There. That was something he could say. Because 'You're not supposed to have feelings' didn't seem tactful enough.

"I know," she sniffed. "I don't think our rooms are bugged or anything like that. The living room maybe, but still. You're right. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Now Haymitch was sober. "What do you mean tapped?"

Effie wiped her tears and then blinked at him. "How stupid do you think I am?"

Haymitch opened his mouth, and then shut it, realizing he had no idea how to answer that. Her eyes quickly cleared and then darkened with anger.

"Oh. I see." She stood up and Haymitch stared after her.

She was angry at him.

He slowly stood up. "I didn't know, Effie."

"Well now you do," she responded curtly.

"You dream about them every night?"

"Without fail." She turned to him. "You're not the only one who gets nightmares, you know. You're not the only one who hurts for fallen Tributes. You're not the only one who _hates_ their job, Haymitch Abernathy." She was becoming hysterical, and getting louder. Tears reappeared in her eyes. "And you're not the only person who hates me. I'm an Angel of Death. I have to parade around, a plastic smile permanently plastered on my face, and I _hate_ it, okay? So stop looking at me like I'm supposed to be some fruity Capitol _bitch_ , because I'm _not_."

"Effie if you don't stop talking like that you're gonna get yourself fucking killed."

"Don't you get it, Haymitch? I don't _care_. Do you know how many times I've wished you had just slit my throat with your knife?"

He jerked. "Don't fucking _say_ that, Effie!" His eyes flashed dangerously as his eyes traveled down to her neck.

He saw the scar. Knew exactly what it was.

It wasn't very big. Just a small, diagonal sliver on her neck.

His blood boiled.

He walked up to her, lifting her face so that he could get a good look at it.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Don't be."

Their eyes locked and something changed. The room was suddenly filled with electricity.

Looking back on it he'd tell himself it was because it was the first time he'd ever saw her as a living, breathing, bleeding, hurting human being. She could scar. She could hurt.

And boy could she heal, which he found out the minute his lips crashed to hers.

It wasn't the first time they kissed. They'd worked together for fifteen years, and sometimes he was a little too drunk, and she was a little too drunk, and shit happened. Or sometimes they'd have a particularly bad fight, and there'd be shouting, so much shouting, and they'd silence each other with their lips.

Sometimes that was the quickest way.

And he knew how he got when he was drunk. His hands and lips tended to wander. And sometimes drinking made him vulnerable, and there'd be blurred lines, but nothing like _this_ ….

Neither one of them would ever remember how it happened. Who leaned in first? Who made the first move? But it didn't matter.

They were equally all over each other.

Clothes were torn, and they couldn't get to each other fast enough.

He hadn't even known how much he'd missed this, how much he needed this. Not even just the sex, but human contact in general. Her certainly hadn't—not with anybody—not since his…

Was skin really supposed to be this soft?

He left a hot trail of kisses, starting from the scar on her neck—made by his knife—and all the way down, down, down, until he reached her breasts, where he sucked, squeezed, bit, teased.

The noises he had her making sounded better than anything he'd ever heard.

He continued his way down, reveling in the way her muscles tensed every place his lips and tongue touched.

He left love marks along her inner thigh, and he couldn't even make it inside of her before she climaxed.

Needless to say when he finally entered her she was soaking wet, and her body was ready for him. Her hips bucked immediately, and they fought for control in the bedroom just like they did outside of it.

She had a way to make him feel alive, again and again, when all he really wanted was to be dead.

When his domination won out she followed his lead, meeting his thrusts with fierce ones on her own. Her fingers dug into his back and he welcomed the pain, because he needed a distraction from the pleasure.

He was ruthless, really, but she welcomed it, begging him to go harder and demanding he go faster. Like always, he obliged, but not without a fight. He slowed down first, until he had Effie Trinket nearly begging him to speed up.

When he finally did she let out a strangled cry that nearly made him lose it.

Her back arched into his and he heard himself groan.

"Fuck, Effie," he grunted out when she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. " _Fuck_."

"Harder," she moaned out, biting her lip. "Don't hold back. God, please."

He couldn't have even if he tried. It wasn't in his nature to hold back. So he gave her everything, and she took, took, took, as he pounded harder and harder, his own voice outdoing hers as the pleasure overtook him.

"Yes, yes, yes, _yes_ ," whimpered out Effie, her voice high. "Don't stop. Don't stop, Haymitch."

It was a cross between the way she moaned his name, tightened her legs around him, pulled him fully on top of her so that he could feel her breasts against his chest, and gently biting his ear that sent him over the edge.

"Right there," she gasped, and her face was near his ear, her breath warm, and then they were both crying out, her teeth in his neck.

He moaned out every curse word he knew, his breathing sporadic, as he slowly slid out of her.

The only sound that could be heard afterwards was their breathing.

"Holy fucking shit," he said when he was able to speak again.

Effie covered her face in her hands, shaking her head. "Do you see what happens when you stay in my room?"

"This is not my fault. All these bloody rooms _look alike_."

"You, Sir, are banned from drinking."

"Well you're banned from looking like that."

She frowned at the ceiling. "Like what?"

"Normal. _Human_. You don't look at all Capitol without all that shit on your face. You could be a normal person. Black hair suits you much better than bubblegum pink."

She sat up suddenly. "Oh my God! I don't have on my face or wig."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ. We just slept together and the only thing you're worried about is your mask?"

She turned to him, meeting his eyes for the first time. "That mask hides my true feelings. That mask keeps my family alive, even if I want to be dead." She took a deep breath. "You should go."

"I don't wanna."

And it shocked him, really, that he didn't.

"Then find your way back here in the middle of the night again. I don't care. But you can't _stay_ here. Not in the middle of the day."

He got up and started putting on his clothes, confused as to why he didn't feel horrible about what just happened.

He'd just fucked a Capitol, and it was the best moment of his life.

He chanced a glance at her. She had slipped on her robe and was brushing her hair, noting that was probably why her hair was so soft. He continued to watch her as she pinned up her loose curls, piece by piece.

"I'll put a sign on your door that says 'Haymitch,' she said with a grin.

He smirked. "I'm sober enough now, thank you," responded Haymitch sarcastically. "Remember, this wasn't my fault."

Neither one of them could quite get rid of the smile on their face for the rest of the day.

Later that night, after he'd gotten drunk again, and made his way to the Penthouse Suite, he laughed aloud at the sign on his door. He grabbed it and kept walking, taping it onto Effie's door before walking in.

She was already waiting for him, completely naked underneath her sheets.

He undressed, climbed into bed, and slid on top of her.

"I think you have the wrong room," she smiled, sliding her hands around his neck.

He snorted, rolling his eyes as he entered her. "All these rooms look alike, Princess," he said for formality.

She didn't need to be told that he was nowhere near as drunk as he had been last night.


	32. Secret's Out

_This is for Lily. Enjoy! "_ _Hey I absolutely love these! Your such a good writer_

 _Please could you do one where Effie drags haymitch lingerie shopping and Effie keeps teasing him because he's getting all flustered imaging her in all the sexy underwear xx"_

 **SECRET'S OUT**

 **Rate d T for suggestive themes**

Effie got off of the elevator and faltered slightly at the flash of the cameras.

"Oh. I didn't know there would still be cameras," she said, more so to herself than anybody.

"Well there are, so why don't we go back upstairs until it's time to go home?"

Effie glanced at Haymitch, a small frown on her face. Her eyes darted from the crowd, suddenly screaming their name, back to Haymitch.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Princess. A few cameras never hurt anybody before." Sometimes he missed the days where he didn't care about the things she wanted. He did _not_ want to leave his warm bed so early to entertain her, yet here they were, heading out of their hotel. And when he had the opportunity to go back to bed—she hated the camera now—he took pity on her, grabbed her hand, and they fought their way passed the crowd.

He kept his eyes alert, his ears listening for things that really didn't exist anymore.

They were safe, and had been for quite some time now.

When they made it safely to the car that was waiting for them, Effie visibly relaxed.

"Remind me again why the bloody hell I'm up at the crack of dawn to go _shopping_ with you?" asked Haymitch as the car pulled off.

"Because, Haymitch," Effie said with the same patience she'd use on a child. "There are certain things that I can get in the Capitol that I can't get in 12."

"No shit, Princess. That's the whole point of it being a _District_." Effie ignored him, and Haymitch finally blurted out the question that had been tugging at his brain since the minute she woke him up, talking about needing to go to a mall before they went back. "Last night didn't give you some sort of… relapse, did it?"

She snapped her neck towards him so fast he was surprised she didn't break her neck. One look from her had him realizing that his fear was misplaced: he shouldn't be afraid of old Effie. He should be afraid—very afraid—of this one.

Her Capitol blue eyes were blazing, her Capitol clipped tone more evident than it had been in years. "No, Haymitch, last night's celebration where I had to parade around in a stupid dress and pink hair didn't make me miss the days of old."

"I'm sorry," Haymitch said immediately.

It was stupid. Of course it hadn't.

Yesterday, for the anniversary special, Effie got prepped. The old days of over-the-top wigs and ridiculous dresses had been toned down now, but the extravagant dress code was still somewhat expected. It didn't matter where you were from—women wore wigs and head-turning dresses and men were always polished and distinguished.

After several years Effie found herself having to play dress up again, and though she was going to be around allies, she still felt like an Escort, and she hated it. She flat out refused to wear a wig, though she did allow Flavius to put soft pink extension highlights in her hair. Her dress was just as ridiculous as ever, though, and the only reason she went along with it is because Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Paylor, Plutarch, and Johanna told her to do so.

" _How do I look_?" Effie had asked, and he wasn't used to seeing her so done up yet so insecure.

" _Hideous_ ," Haymitch had replied. She had turned towards the mirror, a frown on her face.

" _God you're right. I can't wait to get out of these clothes and go home_."

That should have been proof enough. She'd fought tooth and nail against it, but they actually all hoped it'd be closure for her, and with her cold eyes now resting on him he realized that he had probably just seriously offended her.

"I just don't understand what it is you need from a Capitol mall," Haymitch finally said. "Whatever it is you can't wear it in 12. People are now finally starting to accept you."

"Trust me, Darling, what I plan on buying isn't for everyone to see." She smiled at him and the subject was dropped. They were already on their way now, and her mind was made.

The ride to the mall wasn't long, thank God. They got out and Effie visibly relaxed now that there were no cameras around.

She was totally and utterly in her element when it came to shopping.

She immediately went to the directory, humming softly, her long nails following the directions.

"Oh good, it's not far," she stated. "This way."

Haymitch sighed dramatically, following her like he _always_ did. One of these days he'd man up and actually put his foot down. If Chaff could see him now….

When Effie turned into a store Haymitch stopped dead in his tracks.

"What the _fuck_?" he asked aloud.

"Honestly, Haymitch… _language_!" scolded Effie.

He stared at the clothes—if you could call them that—in the display window, and then turned back to Effie. Then he stepped back and looked at the name of the store.

VICTORIA'S SECRET it read.

"Why are we here? What is this place?"

Effie barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "It's a clothing store, Haymitch."

"What _kinda_ clothes? These don't look like clothes." They walked inside and Haymitch gaped. He picked up the first thing he saw—it was all see-through—and stared. "That's it. Absolutely no more visits to 4. You are banned from seeing Johanna."

Effie burst out laughing and glanced at the piece Haymitch had in his hand. Then she stopped laughing. She was pretty sure she _had_ seen Johanna in something like this before.

She took it away from Haymitch, eyeing it. It wasn't half bad.

"Do you like this?" asked Effie.

"Do I… _what_?"

"Hi, welcome to Victoria's Secret." The girl that approached them looked like she was barely legal. Her hair was orange, her attire black. At least _that_ was normal. "My name is Maddie." Her voice had that sickening sweet faux accent that people from the Capitol were born with. "That is actually an excellent piece you have in your hand. It comes with the robe behind it." Effie made her way to the fixture and looked behind it for the matching black robe. It really wasn't half bad.

"Thank you, Maddie. I'll let you know if I need you."

"Sure thing." The girl sauntered off and Haymitch stared after her, realizing he had probably ate something funny last night, and that this was all a dream.

"Haymitch do you like this?"

"If you think I'm letting you out of the house looking like that, you will have the fight of your life on your hands, Princess."

Effie blinked at him and started laughing. "Haymitch, this isn't for _everybody_."

"No shit," he snapped, and Effie continued to laugh.

"It's for _you_. _I_ wear it for _you_. For your eyes only." Then she stopped laughing. "And no other woman better not _ever_ be wearing it for you, besides me. Got it?"

Haymitch looked at the piece, frowning.

"What _is_ it?"

This time Effie did roll her eyes. "It's lingerie."

 _Lingerie_. The word excited him for some reason, though he didn't know why.

"Where's the rest of it?" he muttered.

"That _is_ all of it. That's sort of the point." She sighed and placed it back on the rack. "Find something you wanna see me in."

"Why?"

She stared at him, her eyes dancing. "Darling, so you can take it off later."

And then he did remember why the word excited him. He'd heard of this before, though no one in 12 ever, _ever_ wore it. Who would sell it? Who would buy it?

 _He_ would, that's for sure, especially that red little number across the way.

Before he could stop himself he was walking towards it, Effie hot on his heels.

She grabbed it before he could, looking it over. It certainly left little to the imagination. " _This_ is what you like?"

She met his eye and noticed his scowl.

"Don't look at me like that," smiled Effie. She searched for her size, trying to keep herself from laughing. "What else?"

"Nothing. Let's go."

"There's an edible section."

Haymitch felt his mouth go dry. "A… you mean… _what_?"

This time Effie couldn't help it. She fell into a fit of giggles. "You're _blushing_ ," she gasped, clutching her stomach.

"That's it," snapped Haymitch. "I'm outta here. You can do this alone."

With that he stalked off, which was okay with Effie. She knew him, so she took her time, shopping around and gathering things she knew he'd like, including a few edible items.

She went to the counter to pay. It wasn't Maddie, but some other woman, and Effie made sure to tell her that Maddie helped her out.

When Effie handed the woman her card she glanced at it.

EFFIE ABERNATHY.

 _Oh_.

"Ma'am, you don't have to pay," said the woman. Effie arched an eyebrow. "You're the wife of a former Victor. You're on the list."

Effie blinked. "I thought those laws were rid of years ago." Granted Effie didn't pay for anything in 12, but that was their custom back home. Even with the new shops and restaurants they never paid. But this was the Capitol.

"Paylor kept the law. The only time a Victor has to pay is if it goes over a certain amount. Do you know how much money is in the account for former Victors? No one in his or her families will have to pay for centuries. " Well no wonder why the pool of money was so large. They never had to pay for anything. "I just need you to fill out this form for me."

Effie did as she was told, thanked the woman, and left. She found Haymitch outside, sitting on a bench, a group of girls giggling nearby. He had a scowl on his face and his arms folded, and he glared at her as she approached.

"Never again, Trinket," he told her.

She smiled. "I think you'll change your mind once you see what I got." His eyes brightened and he tried to glance inside her bags. She tightened her hold on them. "Come on, we should get back."

"What kind of name is Victoria's Secret?" asked Haymitch as they left.

"What kind of question is that?" Effie counter-questioned.

Haymitch shrugged. "Seems like the secret's out, all's I'm sayin'."

"That, Darling, is the age old joke."


	33. For the Love of Money

_Been writing way too much fluff. Had to have a one-shot of some kind of fight, somehow some way. This is my own prompt. Keep them coming, Loves. Also, I went through and edited all the stories, fixing grammatical errors and/or adding small details. Nothing extreme, though. I'd just like to add that I don't get offended in the least if someone points out a grammatical error. I hate them, and can't catch them all. I don't have a beta, so you all feel free to be my eyes. Thanks._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **FOR THE LOVE OF MONEY**

 **Rated M for language**

" _Why_ do the kids need so many gifts? They're simple people, really."

"I admit, I got a little carried away," Effie said to Haymitch. "But it's their one-year wedding anniversary. I couldn't help it."

"Do I need to check the account? Will I be the first Victor in history to have spent all his money?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch. I've never touched your account." She sauntered off towards the kitchen and he watched her, a small frown on his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked her.

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"How have you never touched my account? I gave my card to you forever ago."

"Well what would I touch it for?" asked Effie, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

"Oh, I don't know how about groceries? We've only gone to the store every bloody two weeks for the past five years. Not to mention the house is furnished. You didn't do any of that with my winnings?"

"Of course not! Why would I?"

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "Where do you get the money?"

Effie stared at him. "Well I'm not poor, Haymitch. My parents left me a trust fund for when I turned twenty-one, and I hardly ever had to buy anything. As a model I made millions. I modeled for ten years. Not to mention designers who wanted my endorsement gave most of my clothes to me. As an Escort my housing was paid for, and I got a stipend every month for groceries." She ticked these things off as she talked. "My cellphone was property of the Capitol. I've hardly ever had a reason to touch any of my money up until recently."

"You mean up until you moved in with me?"

"Exactly." Effie took a sip of water, then frowned at the look on Haymitch's face. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like it."

Effie looked around. "You don't like what?"

"You, payin' for shit with your money. I've got enough money to feed all of Panem."

"Yes _you_ do," she said, and he scowled.

"Who do you think I'm leavin' all this to when I die?" he snapped out, and Effie stilled.

"Don't talk like that," said Effie coldly.

"It's true. I sent the paperwork to Paylor years ago. So technically this money is yours."

"Don't be ridiculous. I have my own money, and don't need yours." She started heading upstairs as if that settled it. Haymitch was hot on her heels.

"You never struck me as the independent type, Princess."

"That's rude," she told him coolly.

She was annoyed, he could tell, but he wasn't about to drop this. When she reached their bedroom he grabbed her and spun her around. "Effie, I'm serious. I don't like the thought of you spending your own money."

"You are the least chivalrous person I know, so what's this _really_ about Haymitch?"

He blinked at her, offended. "Now _that's_ rude," he spat, and let her go. He sat on the bed and started taking off his shoes, scowling.

"You're really serious," Effie concluded.

"No shit," snapped Haymitch. He glared at her. "You know I get I'm not your fucking husband. And I don't know how you people do things in the Capitol. But out _here_ , in the _real_ world, men take care of their woman."

"Is that what I am?" Effie asked, walking up to him. "Your woman?"

"Don't fuck with me, Effie." His voice was low and she sat on his lap. He stiffened against her but his arms secured themselves around her nonetheless. It was natural.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I didn't know it was important to you."

"I'm not a fucking charity case," and this time it was her turn to stiffen.

"You people from the Seam are ridiculous." Effie stood up and headed towards the closet, discarding her heels.

"I don't think I like your tone."

Effie spun around. "And I don't think I like what you're insinuating. I never thought you needed taking care of, Haymitch, unless you were drunk and about to choke on your own vomit. I just never got the memo you wanted to take care of me."

"What the fuck do you think I've been trying to do?"

"Taking care of me mentally, which is enough. I didn't… I don't want… I just couldn't _assume_ , could I? I mean I'm _not_ your wife, and you're _different_ aren't you? You've always been different."

"It would be so nice to be able to understand what you mean. I've never heard such broken English before."

"Now you know it feels," she shot back. Then she sighed. "Men in the Capitol want to take care of you all the time. I watched a good friend of mine put all her time and effort into a man, then she found him in bed with a former Victor. He then, the cheating bastard that he was, kicked _her_ out, and she had nowhere to go. He had everything. He _did_ everything. I vowed that wouldn't happen to me. So yes, I have an air of independence, okay? But you're Haymitch Abernathy. You worked for everything you had, and then killed to get everything you had. I didn't see you just handing over your plastic credit card to the damn plastic Escort, who was so like the very woman who picked your bloody name in the first place."

Haymitch clamped his mouth shut for several moments. "Is that how I make you feel? Like you're still some Capitol bitch picking names out of a glass bowl?"

"Of course not." She walked up to him. "But you have to understand…. When I came here, I was delusional. I didn't know what to think, or what I was doing. And you were already being so patient. I just didn't want to assume anything. And I don't need your money. I never wanted it."

"But it's been five years."

"If it's that big of a deal to you—"

"It is," he told her.

"Why don't I just put the money in your account?"

"No."

"It's the same thing."

"How?"

She took a deep breath. "Because you weren't the only one who faxed a beneficiary report to Paylor."

Haymitch blinked at her for several moments. "Are you telling me—"

"Yes," replied Effie curtly. "So technically I'm still spending your money." She was reaching, and they both knew it.

"I haven't seen the card in years. I need to call Paylor and have a new one sent, and I probably really should check the account."

"The card's not missing, Haymitch. It's in my wallet."

"So you _did_ know I wanted you to use it."

"You handed me the blasted card and told me to use it when I needed to. I haven't needed to."

Haymitch's eyes flashed. He scowled and made his way downstairs, heading towards the coat rack, where she kept her purse. He stood in front of it, glaring at it like it was President Snow himself, and waited for Effie.

When she was by his side he held out his hand, tapping his foot.

She sighed and opened her purse, grabbing her wallet. She handed him a card and he looked at it. "I don't want this one! I want your card. _Your_ card. Give it to me."

" _Honestly_ Haymitch!" He snatched the wallet until he spotted a bright pink—go figure—card. He took it out of the slot and put his card where hers was.

"Now you need it," snapped Haymitch, pocketing the pink card and handing her back her wallet. In a rude move she snatched it away from him.

"And what if _you_ need it?" Effie asked.

"Don't worry about it." With those words he stalked off, presumably to go hide the card somewhere.

A week later, when she opened her mail, she found a new card.

Another bright pink debit card.

With the name EFFIE ABERNATHY on the front.

She stood up suddenly, intending to run upstairs to wake Haymitch, only he was already there, watching her closely.

"Will you?" he asked.

She felt the tears but she didn't want them to fall. "Of course I will."

He breathed deeply, neither one of them aware that he had even been holding his breath.

He tossed her something and with her reflexes she caught it.

It was a simple ring, nothing flashy, but it was a wedding ring nonetheless, so it'd never looked more stunning.

"We'll toast tonight, okay?"

"With the kids?"

"Yah, we better. They'll kill us otherwise."

She nodded and kept staring at him. "You know, out of all the fights we've had over the years, this one's my favorite," she told him softly.

He smirked at her. "You're excited about the toasting. _I'm_ thinking about the honeymoon."

She rolled her eyes, walking up to him. "Must you always be so crass?"

He met her with his lips. "Wanna practice?" She would have laughed if his voice wasn't so husky, and if it wasn't doing things to her.

"Yes. _After_ you get down on one knee and put on my ring."

He rolled his eyes dramatically, but dropped down.

She couldn't believe all of this happened because of money.


	34. Caught in the Act

" _Great story about haymitch and chaff. I was think why not write one where. Haymitch and Effie get caught either kiss or more in like a supply cupboard at katniss and peetas weeding by the couple themselves."_

 _A/N: Hahahahahaha I DIED reading this prompt. Oh, how I love you Hayffie shippers. Thanks for the prompt, sophiex1x_

 **CAUGHT IN THE ACT**

 **Rated T**

"Meet me in the kitchen in ten minutes," he whispered in her ear, his hand on the small of her back, and then he was gone, almost like he was never there. Effie's eyes followed him as he made his way towards Beetee, Plutarch, and Paylor, who were all huddled in a corner talking as if there was still a Rebellion being planned.

Except they were smiling for once, and it was quite a sight to behold.

Effie wondered what was wrong. He was clearly having a good time, a single glass of liquor in his hand—the only glass he would be allowed to have, just like every other day—as he made his rounds. He laughed with Johanna. He ruffled Finn's hair as he spoke to Annie.

He didn't seem tense, or worried. She didn't understand why she had to meet him in the kitchen in—she glanced at her watch—three minutes and twenty-five seconds. She tried to hide her frown when he walked towards the kitchen, his eyes seeking hers. He smirked, and she felt her stomach flip-flop.

He _knew_ what that smirk did to her, and as the reception was just starting, she wouldn't be able to have her way for him for several hours.

"Will you excuse me, Katniss?" asked Effie.

"Sure," Katniss shrugged.

"Don't shrug," said Effie automatically, and Katniss rolled her eyes. "None of that today. It's your wedding day."

"I know Effie," Katniss sighed, but her eyes were warm as she stared at her former Escort.

Effie nodded and made her way to the kitchen.

The empty kitchen.

"Haymitch?" she called.

Silence.

"Haymitch?"

At that moment the broom cupboard door opened, and she was being pulled inside before she could even blink. The fear she briefly felt quickly disappeared when she felt his hands—they were familiar on her body, and not at all threatening. He spun her around and before she could say anything his lips were on hers.

Effie heard herself moan before she could help herself. It was the sound that her snapping back to reality.

"Haymitch Abernathy, _what_ are you doing?"

"You'd think we'd have done this enough times to know," he mumbled against her neck, sucking.

"Are you _insane_?" The answer was yes, because suddenly his hands were on her breasts. She whimpered against her better judgment, and gasped when his tongue licked her bare shoulder.

"If you don't wanna get caught I suggest you be quieter than that."

"Get caught?" She pushed him away, eyeing him. "Haymitch, we are _not_ about to have sex in a broom cupboard."

He grinned at her, wickedly. "Wanna bet? I've wanted you since I walked in on you changing into that dress this morning. And leave it to Cinna to design you something so extraordinarily _perfect_."

Effie laughed. "Are you still jealous of me and Cinna? I thought I made it quite clear he and I were just friends."

"He saw you naked. A lot."

"He was my designer." Effie couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice.

"And he always put you in these skin tight dresses that left little to the imagination." His voice was husky as he pulled her back to him, and she could feel him against her.

"He did that for _you_ , you idiot. Besides, Portia was one of my best friends. I'd never do that to her."

"Glad you were so loyal to _her_ ," he growled, and then his hands were on her neck. The kiss was deep, and filled with heat.

"If we're going to do this we need to hurry. I don't want anyone to miss us."

She could feel his smirk against her lips. He _always_ got his way. She gripped him through his pants and _that_ wiped the smirk off of his face.

"Bitch," he growled, and he pinned her against the wall, assaulting her with his lips and tongue.

"I love you too," hummed out Effie, though she wasn't quite sure it was English.

He lifted her dress, his fingers finding their way to her center.

"Fuck me, you're not wearing any underwear." His eyes were dark with lust, but she could make out the wonder in them too. She smiled devilishly at him. "That isn't very proper." She snorted and pulled him to her, gasping when his finger slid inside of her.

There was blood pounding in her ear, which is why she wasn't prepared for when the door swung open.

Peeta and Katniss found them, one leg draped around Haymitch's waist, his lips on her neck.

"Oh for fuck's sake," snapped Haymitch. "Can't a man make out with his own wife in a broom closet?"

Peeta and Katniss stayed frozen, clearly in shock.

"Well shut the bloody door," he snapped, and Katniss quickly did as she was told.

Effie, scarlet, immediately pushed him away. She smoothed down her red wine colored dress, her hands shaking.

"I will never, ever, forgive you for this," she hissed.

"Effie, Haymitch, we really need some of the cleaning supplies." Peeta's voice was strained as he talked through the door. "Finn dropped some cake, so…."

Effie opened the door to find a red-faced Peeta. "No one ever hears about this, or the entire world will know the things you call Katniss. Trust me, Haymitch and I can hear everything when our windows are open."

"Deal," Peeta said without meeting her eye.

She didn't think she'd ever be able to look at him again.

"What about Haymitch?"

"Leave him there. It's his fault. He deserves to _sleep_ in the broom closet."

With that, she was gone.

Peeta found he couldn't help himself.

He burst out laughing until he couldn't talk. When Haymitch finally exited the broom closet, he scowled at his former Victor.

"Not one word, boy."

With that, Peeta was left alone, still laughing.

He'd never be able to look at this closet the same.


	35. When Jealousy Strikes

_My own prompt, in honor of the fact that Elizabeth Banks guest starred on The Muppets tonight. PLEASE don't judge me for watching that show, but it was HILARIOUS! Also, I'm a die-hard Black-ish, Empire fan, and How to Get Away with Murder fan, and all of my shows come back on this week. Now all I need is for the Walking Dead to return. Fear of the Walking Dead is trying SO hard but… yah. ANYWAY, enjoy._

 _Oh, I wrote, a story that was too long to post in Loosen Your Corset. It's called 'The Arranged Marriage.' It was a prompt by_ _AVikingandhisHeartbrokenQueen. I thought I'd hate it, but I don't. I love it. I'd love to hear your thoughts. It's a two-shot. Enjoy._

 **WHEN JEALOUSY STRIKES**

 **Rated M for smut**

Effie grabbed the tomatoes and spinach, and then made her way over to the aisle with pasta. She found Haymitch there, chatting it up with some blonde haired girl, clearly from the Town. He had two packages of pasta in his hand—that was the whole reason for him coming to this aisle—and the woman was pointing to one package.

She was certainly standing awfully close.

And touching him a lot.

Why would you need to touch someone that much?

Effie stared at the two of them, and it wasn't until Haymitch started laughing that she realized they were flirting.

Her stomach dropped.

Well of course Effie wasn't the only person in 12 who had seen the change in Haymitch over the years. It'd been three years since he'd had his last drink. He still kept his hair long, but the fact that it was getting greyer made him look even more distinguished. His eyes were clearer, his weight healthy, his skin glowing.

He looked _good_.

And so did the blonde woman.

Suddenly Effie felt stupid. She had no right, really, to be jealous. She'd been in twelve for four years now, but they still had yet to discuss their… circumstances. She had no right to feel this way, so with extreme effort, she swallowed back the bout of possessiveness that had her wanting to curl her hands into Haymitch's arm—after punching the blonde woman in the face.

Instead Effie causally made her way to the white sauces, browsing for her favorite one. Upon finding it she put it in the small basket draped on her arm. A few moments later the blonde haired woman left, after touching Haymitch's arm _again_ —not that Effie had been watching—and Haymitch turned around.

His eyes brightened when he saw her and he walked up to her. "I didn't know you were here," he said.

"Obviously," said Effie sarcastically, and she chided herself. She wasn't supposed to be jealous. "Did you get the pasta?"

Haymitch arched an eyebrow but nodded. "How about something different? Bowtie pasta instead of shells?"

"I don't know…. Peeta said to get the shells."

"Hardie says the bowtie texture will add flavor."

Effie refrained from rolling her eyes. "Well if that's the one you want, that's fine."

Haymitch stared at her for a few moments, and then sighing put the bowtie pasta down on the shelf, and then placed the shells inside the basket. He took the basket from her.

"Thank you," she told him, and she tried to keep her voice neutral.

They passed another woman who tried to catch Haymitch's eye, but either he was oblivious or pretending to be blind.

They walked in sync, as if they were still a team and were off to ask for Sponsors. They still knew each other, from their thoughts to the way they walked. Like old times she had her list in her hands and Haymitch would glance at it, and they'd know where they were headed next.

Effie got a few waves from people and she waved back, smiling. Most of the people still stayed out of her way, however. Five years still wasn't that long ago to a lot of people. Nobody messed with her, though. There had been a few instances when she'd first gotten here, but things had died down.

Mainly because of Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch.

When they arrived in the spice aisle Effie spoke. "I don't think you have to come with me to the market anymore." He stared at her, his eyes questioning. "I'm just saying I think enough time's passed. No one really bothers me."

Haymitch scowled. "Not a chance in hell, Princess."

"But—"

"No but," he said firmly. "I'm not too keen on Katniss killing me with her bow if something happened to you."

"You can't protect me forever, Haymitch."

He glared at her. "Wanna bet?" His voice was dark, challenging, and held a hint of something else that she couldn't immediately put her finger on, so she dropped the subject.

Though deep down she was kind of itching for a fight suddenly.

After gathering their groceries they made their way to Peeta's bakery to grab a loaf of bread.

"You didn't have to come all this way," Peeta said with a smile. "I could have dropped it off on my way home."

"We were at the store, so it's no big deal," said Effie, also smiling.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one carrying bags of groceries are ya?" Haymitch said, and Effie ignored him.

At that moment the bakery door opened and Peeta's smile faltered slightly. "Hey, Hardie."

Effie's head whipped around so fast she didn't have time to hide her scowl.

It didn't matter. Haymitch wasn't looking at her, and Hardie only had eyes for Haymitch.

When she turned back around Peeta was staring at her with a smirk.

"I think we're on the same page here," he muttered as they watched Hardie and Haymitch talk. "But don't worry, Effie. Hardie flirts with every taken man."

"Haymitch isn't taken," snapped out Effie quietly.

Peeta arched an eyebrow. "You two live together," Peeta argued.

"In separate rooms," argued back Effie.

"You go grocery shopping together."

"So that he can protect me."

Peeta stared at her like she was crazy. "Effie, the town voted to let you be like… forever ago. Your protection detail is long over. It's officially illegal to bother you."

Effie just blinked at him.

"Haymitch didn't tell you?"

"I didn't tell her what?" Effie jumped out of her skin and Haymitch stared at her. She hadn't realized he was so close.

"Nothing," Effie said immediately, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "We should go. Unless you're not done with your… friend?" Effie's eyes darted to Hardie and back to Haymitch. "I'll just meet you at the house. Or… your house." Effie touched her neck and her hair, and wouldn't meet his eye. "I'll just see you later."

She was gone before he could blink. Haymitch looked at Peeta and pointed.

"Start talking, boy."

"You want my advice?" asked Peeta.

"Do I need it?"

"Hell yah," Peeta responded. Haymitch sighed and gave Peeta a face that clearly said, 'Well go on then.' But Peeta didn't say anything. He just darted his eyes towards Hardie, who was standing near the cookies section of the bakery, oblivious. Haymitch followed his gaze and stared at Hardie for several moments.

He didn't understand.

And then something clicked. "You mean's Effie's jealous?"

"Should she be?" asked Peeta, hands folded across his chest.

"Hell no. Of course not." He looked at Hardie, and then glanced back to Peeta. "Effie's not jealous. She can't be. She knows how I feel. _Everybody_ knows how I feel."

"Apparently not. You want my advice? Go after her."

Haymitch stood there for a few more minutes before he made his way out the door, where he nearly bumped into Greasy Sae.

"Hey, Haymitch. I just saw Effie. She looked upset." The old woman glared at Haymitch. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," said Haymitch defensively.

"Of course you did. Effie's a pretty girl, and probably the best thing that's ever happened to you. You better not blow it, boy."

"I'm not trying to blow anything."

"Then why haven't you married her yet?"

Haymitch felt the blood drain from his face. "Marry her?"

"How else will you stake your claim? Do you know how many times a day I get men asking about her? Not everybody's child was picked by her hand, you know, and a lot of people know what she went through, and what team she was on. They know she was on our side. Effie's not a mind reader. And you've never been good at showing any emotion other than anger, and you couldn't show affection to a lost kitten. The girl's probably confused." Haymitch stayed silent. "Look, you two have been through enough. Haven't you both been near death enough to know that life is short?" Greasy Sae sighed. "Go get your girl, Haymitch, before someone else does." She brushed passed him, opening the door. Haymitch was still in the same spot. "And stay away from Hardie. She's had her eye on you for the last few months. She's bad news."

Haymitch made his way down the bakery stairs, lost in thought. They were mental. Every single one of them. He hadn't even ever _looked_ at Hardie. He had no clue what color her eyes were or what color her hair was. He didn't even know what _District_ she was from.

And okay, yah, things weren't established between him and Effie, but she had to know how he felt. Of course she did. They slept together regularly, and had for the past couple of years. And okay yah, it bothered him that she wouldn't share his room, but that had been her decision. He couldn't force her to stay with him.

When he finally caught up to her he fell into step beside her. He noticed her tense at his presence and frowned.

They walked together in silence, and Haymitch realized it wasn't a comfortable silence.

Something was off.

He watched her for several moments as she put away the groceries, a small frown on her face.

"Effie?"

"Hm?" She stared at him, and he was greeted with the Capitol woman he'd known for so many years. That guarded, sad, misunderstood woman that was a pain in his ass.

Her defenses were up.

He stared at her for a few moments, and then walked up to her in three long strides. He grabbed her arms and yanked her to him, and pressed his mouth to hers.

Her body was rigid against his for all of ten seconds, before she melted into him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer. He was just starting to get into it when she pushed him away, breathing hard.

"That is not nice," she said, her eyes dark, and she turned away to continue putting up groceries, her hands shaking.

"What's not nice?"

She spun around, her eyes blazing. "Leading me on!"

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "I'm not!"

"Haymitch you can't _flirt_ with another woman, and then come here and kiss me. It's rather _rude_ , don't you think?"

"I wasn't flirting with Hardie."

Effie stood tall. "I do not take kindly to being lied to." Her voice was ice, and she hadn't taken _that_ tone with him in years.

He felt his back go up and his eyes flashed. "Don't take that tone with me, Trinket."

Her eyes widened, because he hadn't used her surname since she'd been here, and he saw it, the quick switch. It happened in the blink of an eye.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was higher than usual, and sickeningly sweet. "I'm being quite the rude house guest, aren't I?"

He walked up to her, spinning her around, a scowl on his face. "Effie, stop it," he snapped.

"Oh, am I Effie again?"

He kissed her again, roughly, savagely, and she accidentally let a moan slip. His lips left hers and traveled down to her neck.

"I thought," he said, biting her ear, "that without the stupid wig," he yanked the shoulder of her dress down, "weighing down your brain," he bit her shoulder, feeling her jerk in his arms, "that you might be a little smarter." He pulled her hair, forcing her head back. He hadn't been this rough with her since her arrival. "Clearly I was wrong, so I'll fucking spell it out to you." He grabbed both her cheeks, roughly. "I don't want Hardie."

"Prove it," challenged Effie, and he felt himself grow hard.

The groceries were forgotten. He picked her up, slamming her down on top of the table, and his hands and lips were everywhere as he pushed her flat on the table. She struggled between staying still and enjoying the pleasure or exploring his body, attempting to bring him pleasure. Eventually she sat up, her hands feeling his chest and working their way down, down, down.

Haymitch froze when her hands gripped him. He and Effie weren't shy with each other, but she'd never, ever done _this_ before, and his brain turned to mush, particularly as she lowered his pants, and then herself, for several, long, _glorious_ moments, and the only thing he could do was grunt out her name.

At the sound of her name she stood up. "Yes. Remember that name."

She turned him around and pushed him against the table, and he was too shocked to do anything but watch her as she undressed him, and then herself.

She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and then his hands were around her waist as her legs wrapped themselves around him. He grunted, entering her, blind with lust as the pleasure took over. She buried her face in his neck, reveling in the feeling of him sliding in and out of her.

" _Fuck_ ," he grunted, turning around so that he could place her on the table.

"Faster," gasped out Effie, and he obliged as she spread her legs wider, laying on top of the table. "Harder, Haymitch." He moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as the pleasure took over. She came, violently, and he nearly followed, except she dug her fingers into his hips, and the pain distracted him. "Look at me," she whispered out, and his eyes snapped open. "I'm it, okay?"

Jesus fucking Christ she was going to kill him.

"There's no one else." He started moving faster, his face set. "Tell me I'm it."

"Always," he rasped out. "Shit. _Shit_."

She arched her back, whimpering, and then tightened her legs around him. She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his thrusts with possessive ones of her own.

"Mine," grunted out Effie.

"Yours, Princess," he choked out.

"No. Say my name." He jerked and gently pushed her back, grabbing her face so that he could look at her.

"Effie." It was easy, really, how easily her name spilled from his lips. Like he ever even wanted to say another woman's name ever again.

And when he finally released, his grey eyes burning black, it was Effie that rolled off his tongue, a thousand times, over and over again, until it was the only word he knew in any language.

Always just Effie.

He collapsed on top of her, afraid that he was having a heart attack and close to death.

He could feel her own heart pounding against his, and he was content with dying, if this is how he had to. It wasn't until he felt the lazy caress of her hands on his back that he realized he was still alive.

"Mine," she said, her voice low, tired, but determined.

He realized he had enough energy left to smile. "Yours."

He felt her entire body relax underneath his and he realized that he needed to do a better job of making her understand she was it for him. He'd demand that she move into his bedroom, and he'd even marry her if he needed to.

Then again maybe he wouldn't go that far. She'd shown him a side of her he'd never seen before.

Jealous Effie was quite possessive.


	36. Open Windows

" _This reminds me of having come across a couple of stories where there's a scene where Haymitch undoubtedly makes fun of Katniss and Peeta for 'ahem' being too loud, during their nocturnal activities :) I think it would be funny, if this series of one-shots include one where Effie overhears them for the first time after moving back to 12. She's uncomfortable for a minute after Haymitch explains that, "no, Peeta is not killing Katniss." They laugh, and then the story becomes more about how they've all managed to find some happiness post war."_

 **OPEN WINDOWS**

 **Rated M for language**

Effie gasped, sitting up in bed. When she heard the noise again she scrambled out of bed, heading towards the stairs. "Haymitch!"

"Effie?" Haymitch was up so fast that he was half way up the stairs before she even started down. She nearly bumped into him. "Effie? What is it? Are you okay?"

"It's Katniss. I think Peeta's killing her."

Haymitch blinked at her for several moments. " _What_?"

" _Katniss,_ " hissed Effie, moving him out the way so she could go down the stairs. "I heard her screaming."

"Effie, wait. Are you sure you weren't having a nightmare?"

"A nightmare? _No_ , Haymitch, I hadn't even fallen asleep yet! I probably hadn't been in bed for more than a few seconds before I heard Katniss screaming. And we're _wasting time_."

"What was Katniss saying exactly?"

"I… well… his name."

"Just his name?"

Effie frowned, thinking. "Yes. I'm pretty sure."

"Jesus, Effie, didn't I tell you not to sleep with the windows open?"

"What? Yes, well I was hot…. What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, he's not killing her, Princess. Katniss is just… loud."

"Well what on earth are they doing?"

"Probably the same thing they were doing on the Victory Tour all those years ago."

It took Effie a few seconds to understand, and then she blushed crimson. "Oh my God." She glared at him. "You told me they weren't doing anything back then."

"Maybe they weren't. I don't know. I don't _wanna_ know. Can we please drop it?"

Effie bit her lip. "Do you think they're using protection?"

"Effie!"

"Haymitch, they're kids! They shouldn't be… I mean they _should_ ….. They're not _that_ young _._ But surely in 12 it's considered wrong to have a baby out of wedlock. It isn't proper. And they certainly don't need a child running around right now. Do _you_ want to play grandfather?"

"If you don't fucking shut up right now I will lose my _shit_ , Princess. I don't fucking wanna think about it. As far as I'm concerned, when the windows are shut, they sleep in separate rooms."

He glared at her, reminding her that it was _her_ fault they were even having this conversation.

"It was _hot_ in my room, Haymitch."

"Then sleep naked for all I care. We can order you a fan from the Capitol. I don't give a damn _what_ you do, just keep the fucking window shut. Spring's around the corner and you're still wearing my flannel shirt. Sleep in a regular shirt for fuck's sake."

He said it with a note of finality in his voice, grumbling the entire way to the couch.

Effie sighed and sat down next to him. "Well I'm not tired anymore. Katniss nearly frightened me half to death."

"Peeta's better, okay? I know the last time you saw him it was crazy, but… he's doing better. Katniss knows how to handle him. It's been a couple of years. They get each other."

Effie sighed and leaned on his shoulder. "What about me? Will I ever be okay?" The question was quiet, almost something a child would ask, and it was questions like that that broke his bloody heart.

He gripped her, bringing his lips to her forehead. "You don't got a choice in the matter, Princess. I'm not spending the rest of my life worrying about you."

 _The rest of his life_.

She sighed softly. "Maybe… maybe it's time I take you up on your offer."

"What offer?" asked Haymitch, stroking her hair.

"To… stay in your room with you." He stilled. She wasn't sure if he was even breathing anymore. "If you want me to. I don't have to. I know it's been a couple of months since you asked."

She held her breath, waiting for him to speak. "Only under one condition," he finally said. She looked at him. "Never open the window."

Effie laughed. "Deal." She got up, brushing her hand against his arm. "I think I'll head up now. See you in a while."

"Night, Princess."

"Goodnight."

She had every intention of it being a good night, which she made clear when she threw his flannel shirt at his head. He stared at it for several moments, his heart pounding. This would be the first time they slept together without the horrors of a nightmare as an excuse.

Maybe he'd open the windows, just to give the kids a little bit of payback.


	37. Better

_This was SUPPOSED to be about when Katniss and Peeta find out Effie's in 12 for the first time. I'm pretty sure it's never been done._

 _And it's not going to be done here, either LOL. Didn't come out nowhere NEAR as planned. I will definitely try again, though. A for effort, yah?_

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **BETTER**

 **Rated K**

He found her downstairs, proof that she wasn't a dream, a hallucination.

Her hair was pinned up, her face bare, and she had a piece of toast in her hand.

She looked at him when he appeared, her mask almost instantly slipping into place.

"Don't," he said, and she stilled, eyeing him warily. "You can stay here as long as you need to, but don't pretend with me."

"How do you do that?" asked Effie.

"What?" he asked, walking towards the kitchen.

"Read me like a book."

"I know there's a difference between Capitol Effie and the _real_ Effie. We worked together for twenty years."

"Yes. Yes I suppose I can understand that." She placed her toast on her plate, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Haymitch asked her.

"How are they?" whispered Effie.

"They're okay." Haymitch sat across from her, a cup of liquor in his hand. "It's been two years. Peeta's been back for a year and a half now, and she's better with him."

"He still has….?"

"The flashbacks? Of course. He'll have him for the rest of his life."

Effie leaned forward. "Do you think they'll want to see me?"

"Yes," Haymitch said without hesitation. "They're probably up now if you want to—"

"Will you come with me?" Effie blurted it out so fast that Haymitch knew that she hadn't meant to ask. She cringed and immediately lowered her eyes, breaking eye contact, a faint blush rising on her cheeks.

Who _was_ this woman?

"Of course I will, Princess."

"Thank you," she breathed. "I don't want them to know that I'm…"

"What? Broken? Just like the rest of us?"

"You all aren't broken. You've survived way worse than I have." Her voice was hard and firm, and held a hint of finality that he was used to. "I've no right to complain when what I've been through doesn't compare."

He bit his tongue. He had read her files when they found her. She'd barely survived.

"Don't lie to me, Effie," he said darkly. "You want to parade around like nothing's wrong in front of the kids, fine. I'll keep your secret. But you be honest with me."

"Can you promise me the same?" And there she was. That fiery tempered, challenging, never let him have the last word woman he knew.

"I _couldn't_ tell you about the Rebellion, Effie. I thought I was protecting you."

Her blue eyes flamed up, but before she could argue she sighed, defeated. "I know. I understand why you didn't trust me."

"I _did_ trust you," he snapped. "I did," he added a little more softly. "I just thought you were bloody safer in the Capitol. I never thought you'd be taken. Never. If I had thought for one second—" Haymitch stopped and took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter. The fact is, you were taken, and it's my fault."

"No it's not." Sometimes he thought she said things just to argue with him.

He sighed heavily, putting his cup down and getting up. "Let's get dressed and we'll make our way over there."

"Okay," said Effie softly.

They made their way upstairs, Haymitch heading to his room, and Effie heading to his guest room. A few minutes later she was ready, her natural hair down, light makeup up on her face, and wearing a simple blue dress.

Well, simple for Effie standards.

He thought about jumping her bones right then and there, but they had never crossed _that_ line before, and he doubted very much that she was ready to do so now.

They made their way to their Tribute's house, side-by-side. The closer they got the slower she walked, and he realized how nervous she was. He placed his hand on the small of her back, relieved when she relaxed instead of stiffened.

He didn't rush her, even as they stood in front of the kid's door for a solid five minutes. After several calming breaths, Effie finally raised her hand and knocked.

 **XxXxXx**

When Katniss and Peeta heard the knock they both froze.

No one ever knocked.

Peeta and Katniss glanced at each other, and without saying a word the two of them left the kitchen and made their way to the front door.

Peeta moved Katniss behind him, ignoring her scowl, and swung open the door.

When they saw Haymitch they both sighed with relief.

It was the woman who was with him who had them confused.

"Morning," said Peeta carefully. "Can we… help you?"

Haymitch rolled his eyes dramatically.

"You're an idiot. It's Effie, you fools."

Neither of them could hide their shock. They stood there for several moments until Katniss said, "Oh my God," and she was embracing Effie.

Effie hugged the girl back, and then Peeta was there, hugging Effie too.

"No one ever welcomes me like that," muttered Haymitch, and Katniss snorted.

"That's because you always smell like liquor."

"And like you haven't showered in a year," Peeta added.

"Which he probably hasn't," agreed Katniss.

Haymitch scowled. "It seems as if I'm not wanted." He touched the small of Effie's back again, gently. She turned to face him. "Come back when you're ready."

 **XxXxXx**

Peeta came by Haymitch's a few days later.

Early, before Effie was even awake.

Peeta heard Haymitch out back, messing with his geese, so he made his way back there.

"Headed to the bakery?" asked Haymitch.

"In a little bit," Peeta responded. A small breeze blew. "It's getting cooler."

Haymitch didn't comment. After several moments Haymitch turned to him. "Everything okay?"

"You tell me." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I'm talking about Effie."

Haymitch tensed. He hadn't been expecting that. Normally if Peeta came by with that determined look on his face, it had to do with shiny memories or a disagreement with Katniss.

Their talks were getting rarer, but they were still happening.

The fact that the boy had come to him about Effie had Haymitch frowning.

"She's okay. She's only been here about a week," Haymitch finally said, throwing some stale bread to his geese to keep his eyes averted.

"Haymitch…."

"Spit it out, boy."

"Effie's still in love with you."

Haymitch stayed stock-still. He was frozen, and was pretty sure he had just gone deaf. Everything stopped: time, the world, his heart.

"I know the look. I spent sixteen years of my life looking at Katniss the same way Effie looks at you. I don't want her to go through what I had to."

Peeta turned to him, and somehow Haymitch found the strength to look his Tribute in the eye. "You're a great Mentor, Haymitch. You got Katniss and I out of two Games alive. I won't forget that. But… You and Katniss…. You hurt people without meaning to. And people from the Seam… they have this stupid ability to think they owe people things, when they don't. The Games changed us, I get that but… the lives you lived made you two harder. Effie doesn't need harder right now. If you wanna get your shit together and help her, and help yourself in the process, then I'm all for it. But if you're letting Effie stay here because you feel like you _owe_ her… she'll pick up on that."

Haymitch watched as Peeta's eyes darkened. "And if you hurt her…." Peeta's eyes blazed. "I still hear her screams, Haymitch. I didn't think they were real at first, until I talked to Johanna. Effie was between our cells. Some nights I didn't even hear Effie. Sometimes for days at a time."

Peeta took a deep breath. "If it's better for her, I'll have Effie move in with us."

"No." His voice was firmer than he thought, and Peeta stared at him, surprised. "I know what I have to do for Effie. I don't much appreciate you comin' into my backyard—"

"There's nothing I won't do for her, Haymitch, the same way there's nothing you and Katniss won't do for each other. She's the closest thing I've ever had to a real mother, much like Katniss is the closest thing you've ever had to a daughter."

Peeta turned away, staring at Haymitch's many geese. "You love her," and it wasn't a question. The statement had Haymitch jerking. "You may not know you do. You may still feel some resentment because of her title. But she's a good person. If you can't see that, or forgive her for that, let me know now. I'll take her out of your hair."

"I get I'm not the easiest bloke to understand, but you've overstayed your welcome, boy."

Peeta turned to him, a grin on his face. "How many times have you meddled in me and Katniss' relationship?"

Haymitch cringed. "It's different. You two are kids." Peeta arched an eyebrow. "Don't you have a bakery to run?"

Peeta laughed. "Okay. I'm sorry if I offended you."

Haymitch nodded and Peeta started to leave.

At the gate he turned around. "Haymitch?" His mentor turned. "You could do way worse, you know."

Haymitch snorted. "Get outta here, kid."

Haymitch finished feeding his geese and walked back inside just as the sun started to rise. He glanced at Effie, curled up on the couch. They'd fallen asleep there while watching a movie.

She had him watching movies. Stupid chick-flick movies that he'd never even heard of, like some movie called Breakfast at Tiffany's, which made no sense, because there was no girl named Tiffany in the whole bloody movie. When he pointed that out to Effie she laughed, truly laughed, for the first time since her arrival.

The boy wouldn't have known that, though.

Haymitch stared at Effie, who only woke up from nightmares twice tonight, instead of every hour on the hour, like she had every other night. She was still resting peacefully, and as tired as he was, he was afraid that by crawling in next to her he might wake her, and she needed her rest.

So he sat down next to her, carefully, taking special care to cover her up, because it _was_ getting cooler.

The boy may not have known everything, but he was right about one thing.

He loved her.

And he certainly could do way worse.

But he damn sure couldn't do better.


	38. Letters to Juliet

_Heard Taylor Swift's 'Love Story' and was like "I gotta write a fan fic based on this movie." Hate it, but I'm posting it because I'm pretty sure the idea's original. Enjoy. Title references the movie, of course._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **LETTERS TO JULIET**

 **Rated K**

 _Dear Juliet,_

 _I still think about him._

 _His scent still hits me, out of the blue, every now and then. If the wind blows too hard, I smell him: the scent of husk, coal, and booze._

 _We weren't supposed to fall in love._

 _Honestly I don't even know if he loved me._

 _Sometimes it felt like he did._

 _Other times…. Who knows?_

 _We worked together for twenty years, but we had our… differences. I was loyal to our President, and he… well he always danced to the beat of his own drum. He didn't do well with authority._

 _He changed me, though. I don't even know when, and I've certainly thought about it over the years. It was never one thing; I guess it was just little things over time._

 _After everything was over… he offered for me to go back home with him. I couldn't though. I had to figure things out, figure out where my head was…. I had to let go of the rage, the hurt, the pain._

 _When I finally found the strength to go back to him, he was gone._

 _It's been twenty years since I last saw him, and I've thought of him every single day since._

 _Not a day goes by that I don't miss him._

 _I'm not sure why I wrote to you. Maybe because I just needed to get it off my chest. I do feel better. Sometimes, though, I can't stop thinking of what if?_

 _If I never formally ask you to try and help me find him, I won't spend time waiting for a response that will probably never come._

 _I've waited for twenty years._

 _I suppose for him I'd wait forever._

 _I'm blabbering. I do that, when I'm nervous._

 _Thanks for listening._

 _Sincerely,_

 _-Effie Trinket_

The girl placed the letter down on the table and stared at the woman sitting next to her. She was still quite pretty, even while pushing sixty. Her once blonde hair was greyer now, but was still thick and full, framing her face nicely. Her eyes were still just as blue as ever, though there was a hint of sadness swimming in them, even as she stared politely.

She was polished, and dressed perfectly, her blue dress enhancing her eyes instead of competing with them. She wore minimal makeup, highlighting her face, but not hiding the age lines around her eyes. She had a small smile on her face, though it was more nervous than genuine, and her hands were clasped tightly together.

"It's a beautiful letter," the girl said.

"Thank you," replied Effie, her Capitol accent still thick.

"You never state who it's about."

"Yes, I know…. If these letters fell into the wrong hands…." She shrugged—and leave it to this woman to do so elegantly—and gave the girl a small smile. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"I understand. Well I found your letter by accident and was immediately intrigued. I'm glad you answered my call. You only wrote the letter six months ago."

"Yes. It was the anniversary of the war, and I was feeling particularly sentimental."

"How do you feel now?"

Effie stared at the girl, her sea green eyes evident of a girl born in 4, but who knows where she lived now? People had been traveling in and out of Districts for twenty years now.

"The same," Effie said, and the girl smiled.

"Do you want to find him?"

Did she? Effie glanced away, remembering nights of heavy passion, heated arguments, hard kisses…. Nights that turned into stolen escapades, quiet disagreements, and soft touches. They had certainly always been complicated, and she hadn't had to deal with complicated in years.

Her life was simple now.

She absentmindedly scratched the last visible scar left on her body, located on her arm, and focused her attention back to the girl.

"Yes," she finally answered. "Yes, I'd like to find him. But I have no idea where to start. I don't know his birthday, which seems silly, after knowing him for twenty years. I don't have an inkling where he is now. He used to live in 12, but like the letter stated, he was gone when I arrived. I'm not sure where else he would have settled down."

The girl with green eyes gave Effie another smile and leaned forward. "Let's just start with his name."

Effie took a deep breath. It was a long time she'd said it aloud. The last time was probably when she'd shown up in 12, unannounced, calling his name inside of house he no longer stayed in. When she thought he was near, when she thought she smelled him walking by, or when she saw a man who looked like him, she never called out for him.

It'd be foolish.

He'd never have been in the Capitol.

"Haymitch," and the name still sent the same shiver up her spine. She licked her lips, clearing her throat. "Haymitch Abernathy."

 **XxXxXx**

The girl had claimed that she was a writer, and that she was looking for an idea for her next major book. She hadn't had a best seller in five years, and Effie's love life was the kind of thing that everyone would want to read about.

Happy ending or not.

It wouldn't be a happy ending. Not as Effie stood there, in the graveyard, staring at the tombstone with Haymitch's name on it.

The girl had warned Effie this was a possibility, and Effie knew better than anyone that he might be dead. The man could drink like a fish. She wouldn't be surprised to learn he'd died of kidney or liver failure.

It still hurt, that she never got to say goodbye.

He'd gone back to 12, apparently. It hadn't taken long for the girl to find him. The first place she looked was 12, and there it was, in an old newspaper clipping—about ten years ago. The article was short—it exclaimed that a small burial was held for the town's beloved Haymitch Abernathy.

The tombstone didn't give a birthdate. Just the year of his death.

She wasn't sure why she decided to come to 12 and see this.

For closure, she supposed.

She wiped her tears and turned around, meeting the girl at the edge of the field. Arm in arm they made their way back towards the train station.

"Effie?"

Effie paused and then slowly turned around. "Oh my God," Effie said.

Johanna Mason stood in front of her, suitcase in hand, next to a redheaded woman who was undoubtedly Annie O'dair. A man stood next to her, and Effie felt her heart give out.

"Finnick," she whispered.

"No," said Annie quickly, approaching Effie and immediately blocking Effie's view. "That's Finn. Our son."

Effie was there, back in that cell, so many years ago, until she felt Annie hugging her. She blinked back the tears, clinging to Annie.

"What are you doing here? Did you get an invite? Peeta and Katniss didn't say you were coming! Oh my God."

"Let her breathe, brainless," Johanna said.

Effie stared at them. "What am I missing?"

"Well they're finally getting married," Johanna said.

"Twenty years and two kids later," laughed Annie. "You didn't know?"

"No," Effie said quietly. "I haven't seen or spoken to anybody in… twenty years."

"Every year we ask about you. We all try to get together at least once a year, normally around a major holiday, and we always ask if anyone's ever heard from you."

"I didn't… I mean what I went through compared to the rest of you…."

"Just because you didn't fight with us doesn't mean you didn't deserve to heal with us," scolded Annie. "What happened to us being a team?" She lifted up her arm and the gold bangle flashed in the sunlight.

Effie's heart stopped.

"We better go before we're late," Finn called, staring at them strangely.

"If you didn't know, what are you doing here?" asked Johanna.

"It's a long story," Effie sighed.

"Well you have to come. Everyone will be so excited. Let me introduce you to Finn."

It was like staring at Finnick O'dair. He was just as handsome, his hair just as blond, his skin just as bronze, his eyes just as green. Though his eyes held an innocence his father's never have.

"I've head a lot about you over the years," he said with a smile. "You look just like you do in the Book."

"The book?" asked Effie.

"You'll see it. Everyone will be _so_ excited!" Annie exclaimed. "Is this your daughter?"

Effie forgot all about the girl, who was staring in the background. "Oh how rude of me! No, this is a friend of mine. She came with me."

"Well any friend of yours is a friend of ours. Come on."

Effie hesitated, but only briefly, and then she followed in line, the girl's arms locked in hers.

 **XxXxXx**

The minute they arrived at the house everything stopped.

Katniss and Peeta were in front, having apparently just welcomed in Mrs. Everdeen, and when Johanna barged in, Finn and Annie behind her, they had no time to greet the trio before their eyes rested on Effie.

They both looked like they'd seen a ghost, before Katniss let out a startled gasp, breaking the trance, and then Katniss was there, hugging her.

Peeta was next, and he pulled her in close, and she held him back, tears prickling her eyes, because the last time she saw him, really saw him, he was mad, out of his mind.

He pushed her back, his eyes bright. "You look just like Haymitch said you did." She blinked. "We drew you, for our book, and at first I had drawn Capitol Effie. When Haymitch saw it he demanded I change it, and he described how you looked, minus the mask, and… wow. You haven't aged a day." He hugged her again and she blinked away the tears.

"I can't believe you're here," whispered Katniss. "We had no idea how to find you. After Plutarch died we gave up."

"I didn't keep in touch with anyone," Effie said. "I…."

"Who's that blocking the bloody doorway? Got a cake here that weighs a ton."

Effie stilled, her eyes widening, and spun around at the voice.

Haymitch was there, apparently alive and well, not with a cake, but a baby.

A baby he nearly dropped at the sight of Effie.

"Effie?" he said, clearly dumbfounded.

Haymitch walked up to her, and she backed away.

Dear God, she was hallucinating, and in front of everyone. It'd been years, _years_ since she had an episode. Maybe seeing Haymitch's grave had sent her over the edge.

Except the girl was gripping Effie's arm again, and when Effie looked at her, she looked utterly confused.

"Haymitch Abernathy?" the girl said, and his Seam grey eyes—clearer than she'd ever seen them—rested on the girl.

"Who're you?"

"A friend of Effie's," she whispered. "We thought you were dead."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up into his hairline—which was still much too long, but boy did he certainly look handsome with its salt and pepper coloring. "What the hell would you think somethin' like that for?"

"We saw your grave. In the meadow."

"My _grave_? I don't—" Haymitch stopped abruptly. "You mean my goose? You saw my goose's grave?"

Effie felt herself starting to get lightheaded. When she swayed Katniss gasped, but who else was there in a flash, but Haymitch?

When he grabbed her she knew that he was real. Really, truly, real. Flesh and blood real. He _smelled_ real, and just like he always smelled: like husk, coal, and booze. She gripped his arms, staring at him, and then her hands acted on their own accord and cupped his face.

"Haymitch," she whispered, her hands trembling.

He looked at her, and no one else existed for either of them. Years later, when they told this story to Willow and Rye, and to anyone who asked about how they reunited, they would both claim that everyone else disappeared.

They were the only ones left in all of Panem.

"Effie," Haymitch finally answered, and she didn't smell alcohol on his breath. In fact he looked healthier than ever.

Better than ever.

"What are you doin' here?" he asked.

"I… I missed you."

He snorted. "Twenty bloody years and you missed me?"

She caressed his cheek. "Oh, Darling, no." She shook her head. "I've missed you every single day for twenty years."

He kept staring at her, a small frown on his face, almost like he was trying to figure out if he believed her or not.

"I've missed you too," he finally said, and the sob she'd been holding back escaped out of her mouth.

Before she could burst into tears, though, his mouth was on hers, and it was unbelievable, the things kissing him still made her feel.

The wolf whistles and the claps, plus the exclamations of 'It's about time!' made them realize that no, they weren't alone. But they didn't stop kissing, and after a few moments all she could hear was the pounding of her heart as Haymitch pulled her closer.

A year later, Effie was opening her mail at the table. One package was particularly large. It was a book. A novel.

Effie smiled, brushing the picture on the back of the girl who had changed her life.

She opened the book, unsure if she'd read it. She had lived it, after all. She flipped through it, her eye catching a picture of her original letter. Effie's name had been blurted out, per her request.

At that moment Haymitch walked in, a bag of groceries in his hand. He bent down and kissed the top of her head.

"What's that?" he asked.

She didn't immediately answer. Haymitch came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, even though she was in a chair, and resting his chin on her shoulder.

Effie turned back to the front of the book.

"Look at this," breathed Effie.

Haymitch read aloud. "To Hayffie. You know who are you. PS: Beautiful wedding."

Effie smiled, closing the book, and brushing the title.

 _A Love Story_ , it was called.

"Seems accurate," Haymitch said.

Effie nodded. "Yes it does," she said with a soft smile.


	39. A Night in the Capitol

_Lemonadeislife said, "Hi promt. Haymitch,effie,chaff and chaffs girlfriend night out getting drunk." Hehehehehehe. This is LIFE. However, like Haymitch, I don't see Chaff having a girlfriend, so I'm just going to add Seeder._

 _Came out a little angsty. Don't know where THAT came from. So much for a fun night out. Hope you're not too disappointed, Lemonadeislife_

 **A NIGHT IN THE CAPITOL**

 **Rated M for language**

"I know it'll be difficult," Effie said, straightening Haymitch's tie that he'd undoubtedly untie at some point, "but please try to behave."

Haymitch snorted. "Princess my best friend is goin' back into the Arena in a few days, along with Finnick, Jo, and Seeder. Not to mention our Tributes scored a 12 tonight. I'm getting royally pissed."

Effie rolled her eyes. "I suppose I shouldn't encourage you, but do have a drink for me." She stepped back and admired her handy work. "Have fun, but not too much fun. I've got a full agenda tonight and can't afford to bail you all out of jail."

"That only happened once," muttered Haymitch.

"In the last five years."

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Of course not."

They walked out of his room and into the living room, where the rest of the crew was waiting for Haymitch.

"It's about time, brainless." Haymitch sighed and immediately went to the bar.

"Effie why aren't you coming with us?" asked Seeder.

"Because _some_ of us have work to do," she said pointedly, but with a smile. "Which reminds me, _please_ do try and get back to Headquarters in one piece. I shall not bail you all out of jail tonight."

"That happened _one time_ ," said Haymitch, glaring.

"Yes, well I know what happens when you all get together."

"So come with us and keep us all in line," Seeder smiled.

"I absolutely will not," claimed Effie.

"This will be your last time to hang out with me," Chaff said, and Effie frowned.

"Don't talk like that," said Effie quietly.

"What? It's true. And how will you live with the guilt when I die and you realized you could have had one last night with all of us?"

"She picks the kid's names," Johanna said. "She'll sleep just fine."

"Johanna." Haymitch's voice was quiet, but it was lethal, and even though all eyes were on her, she only stared at Haymitch. The two stared at each other for several moments.

"You _should_ come, Effie," Finnick said, breaking the tense silence. "Who knows what'll happen in that Arena?"

"That's quite enough," snapped Effie. "Isn't it bad enough that you all are going back? I don't want to stand here and bloody talk about it."

They all stared at her, though the only one who was truly surprised was Johanna. She looked at each of them, her Capitol mask slipping.

"You're going sentimental on us," Chaff said softly. "That's it. You're coming out tonight."

"I absolutely will _not_. Besides, I don't have on the right attire."

"What's wrong with what you got on?" asked Haymitch, finally making his way over to the living room.

"Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch, I wouldn't be caught _dead_ in a bar with this on. This isn't proper bar attire."

"It's not proper attire period," Haymitch snorted, and Effie ignored him.

"What's proper attire?" asked Seeder.

"What Johanna has on isn't half bad. If she weren't so… _naked_." Johanna glared at her.

"Isn't it proper for every woman to have a little black dress in her closet?" Finnick asked.

"Of course. I have several. But at home. Not here."

"So go get one and meet us at the bar," Finnick said.

"Well I—" She stared at them all. Aside from Johanna they all seemed like they wanted her to go, even Haymitch. "Don't be ridiculous. I have no reason being in a bar. It's not like I'm a hot young thing anymore."

"Were you ever?" asked Johanna cruelly.

"Hell yes," Finnick said immediately.

"To anybody _other_ than you, who've had a crush on her since the beginning of time?" The annoyance could be heard in Johanna's voice.

"Well she was," said Seeder. "I'm old enough to remember when Effie was crowned Pin-Up Queen."

" _What_?" Haymitch said, clearly surprised.

"I do remember that!" exclaimed Chaff. "That was the year I won my Games. I remember seeing it on the Victory Tour."

"That was the first time," Seeder said. "I remember the second time."

"That is quite enough," Effie blushed.

"What are they talkin' about?" asked Haymitch.

"Nothing."

"It wasn't nothing," Finnick grinned.

"How have _you_ seen it?" challenged Effie.

"Unfortunately I spend a lot more time in the Capitol than some Victors. I have… access to certain information. I've seen a lot of your old work. You were quite the model, and quite the tease."

"I don't know _what_ you're talking about," Effie said, walking towards the bar.

"They re-released some of your photos after you won. _And_ they aired a 'Who is Effie Trinket, Escort for District 12' special last year too."

"Please don't remind me."

Finnick laughed and she could feel Haymitch's stare on her back.

"You definitely know a thing or two about being hot," Finnick said. "So why don't you run home, change into something more appropriate, and keep us out of jail?"

"Yah, and you can bring those pictures with you. I know you still have them, Trinket." Effie spun around and glared at Chaff

"Those pictures were a long time ago. They don't even crown girls as Pin-Up Queen anymore."

"You were the last one," Seeder said.

"They took one look at your photos and said no one would ever amount to you, so they shut it down," laughed Finnick.

"You're talking nonsense," Effie said, throwing back a drink. "I'm late. You all have fun."

She made her way to the door, her face still red.

"Effie?" She turned around and met Haymitch's eye. "We'll be at the Late Season's bar if you change your mind."

She stared at him for a moment. "So noted."

By the time the elevator opened in the lobby, she'd made up her mind.

She got into the car and gave the driver her address.

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch spotted her as soon as she walked into the Late Seasons. His mouth dropped open.

"And _that's_ why no one else was ever crowned Pin-Up Queen," grinned Chaff.

Haymitch barely seemed to hear him.

He watched as Effie—dressed in something that was definitely _not_ a little black dress, but a strapless, daring, short, bright red dress that was skin tight and showed off long, lean legs and nice toned arms—looked around for several moments, a gold clutch in her hand.

The atmosphere seemed to change at her appearance.

Men sat up a little straighter, stood a little taller, but she paid them no mind. She walked slowly, her gold heels sky high, still looking around, until she spotted him.

He noticed the sharp in take of her breath, the slight hitch in her step, but other than her face broke into a warm smile.

Genuine.

Authentic.

Not at all Capitol.

The smile that made his heart skip a beat on nights like this, when he wasn't drunk enough yet.

"You came," he said.

"I thought the best way to keep you out of trouble was to do so," responded Effie.

"You look…" he stopped himself from saying beautiful, but he didn't have to. Effie's smile told him she knew where he was going.

"Thank you. I can't believe I fit into it after fifteen years."

He kept his comment to himself. "Want a drink?"

"Absolutely not," Effie said.

"Why not?"

"Cus she's a lightweight," grinned Chaff, who suddenly appeared by Haymitch.

"Only with the hard stuff. That's why _I_ got her _this_." He handed Effie a blue drink with pineapples. "It's your favorite."

Effie gave him a warm smile. "Why thank you, Finnick."

"You can thank me by dancing with me."

She gave him a dazzling smile, and Haymitch had to bite his lip to keep from scowling. "Only if you can keep up," flirted Effie, and then she was handing her drink off to Haymitch and disappearing with Finnick.

"Chin up, Mate," Chaff said.

"Yah," chimed in Seeder. "You know she only has eyes for you. She'll be back in a few."

Haymitch glared at them and made his way to the bar, where Johanna was chatting it up with some random bloke. He sat down, ordering a double shot for them. "To the end," he said, lifting his glass.

"And the beginning," responded Chaff, and they all took their shots.

They were on their third round when Effie and Finnick finally rejoined them, both of them red in the face and out of breath. Effie immediately went for her drink and drowned half the contents. He arched an eyebrow and she winked at him.

His stomach flip-flopped and he immediately ordered another drink.

Men kept asking Effie to dance, but other than Finnick and Chaff, Effie turned them all down.

She herself, the bloody hypocrite, was getting royally trashed.

"Slow down, Effie," Johanna finally said. "You know you can't keep up with us, so don't try."

"Not tryin' to," slurred Effie.

"She's only drinking this much cus all the girls keep coming up to Haymitch," Seeder teased, and Effie, very close to drunkenness, stiffened as she noticed Haymitch's eyes on her.

" _That_ is rude," Effie said, pointing to Seeder, who laughed.

"And I am over here," said the older woman, grabbing Effie's hand and pointing it slightly to the left.

Finnick and Chaff snickered.

"I think you've had enough tonight, Princess," Haymitch sighed.

"You always have enough but you keep drinking."

"Now that's rude." He stood next to her, intent on helping her out of her seat, when she yanked his undone tie and pulled him close.

"That brunette with the hazel eyes who has approached you nearly half a dozen times desperately wants to sleep with you, and I'm one drink away from knocking her teeth out. Get me out of here."

He snickered. "That's what I'm tryin' to do."

Before he could Chaff said, "Here comes another one." Haymitch and Effie looked up, and sure enough, this girl had her eye on Haymitch. "This one's actually Haymitch's type. She looks like Effie."

Seeder and Chaff laughed while Haymitch glared. Effie frowned. Were they making fun of her?

"They always flock after Haymitch," commented Johanna. "Never understood why."

"They all wanna be the one to break him," Chaff said matter-of-factly.

"That's ridiculous," claimed Effie. "Haymitch can't be broken. He'd never touch any of them."

"That's because the only Capitol bitch he wants to screw is you," Chaff grinned.

Effie flushed and Haymitch gave Chaff a death glare. "I believe you've had enough tonight as well."

Before Chaff could respond Blondie came up to Haymitch.

"Not interested, keep it moving," he snapped. She looked highly offended and sauntered off, taking her over-the-top wig and ridiculous green dress with her. "Come on, we should go."

Effie stood up, surprisingly by herself, and slithered in front of Haymitch. She looked at all of them, making sure everyone was accounted for.

"I feel like we should take one more shot before we go," she stated. "This round's on me."

"I won't ever turn down free liquor," Johanna said. "But Haymitch has definitely been a bad influence on you. We're all trashed."

Effie snorted, bought their drinks, and they had just raised their glasses when a man tapped her on the shoulder. She could tell by the look on Haymitch's face he was a Capitol.

She lowered her drink, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and everybody was surprised as they watched her literally slip into the character of Capitol Effie. By the time she turned around she had a bright smile on her face.

"Yes?" she asked politely.

"Aren't you Effie Trinket?" asked the man with bright green hair.

"That I am."

She immediately turned back around, and even Johanna couldn't hide her smirk of appreciation.

"I'm Vamous Beautfort," continued the Capitol man, and this time Effie couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes before halfway turning back towards Vamous.

"Pleasure," she said. She realized she was being quite rude by not facing him entirely, but she wanted to keep an eye on Haymitch because she knew how he got when Capitol men talked to her, and she didn't want to be completely rude to Vamous.

"It's such an honor to meet you! I was actually in line to be Head Gamekeeper this year, but Plutarch beat me out in the end. I'm actually kind of relived, because I want to be able to _enjoy_ the Games. I still can't believe 12 won last year, and to have your Tributes back in the Arena… well I'm sure you're somewhat conflicted."

Effie blinked at the man, but he continued talking.

"Now I was actually hoping Haymitch would go back into the Arena. No one has ever been in two Quarter Quells before, could you _imagine_ the _ratings_?"

Effie stiffened. "You son of a bitch," she snapped, and before she even knew what she was doing, she had thrown her double shot in Vamous' face. Before he could even start sputtering Haymitch's arms were around her, and they were heading outside. "Let me _go_ ," she spat, wrestling out of Haymitch's arms. "I wasn't finished with him."

"If you don't calm down in the next two seconds, you'll regret it." His voice was filled with a quiet warning that she ignored. She scratched him with her nails and pushed him away. " _What_ is your problem?"

"I am so _sick_ of this," she hissed, and Haymitch and Chaff immediately advanced on her.

"Trinket, if you know what's good for you, you'll shut up," said Chaff, glancing around even though there was no one in the streets this late. But there were eyes and ears everywhere.

"Oh what are they going to do? Most of you will be back in that Arena in a couple of days. You're already dead. And me?" She scoffed. "I've been dead for years. Killing me would be doing me a favor."

It was the look on their faces that sent her on her rampage.

She stared pacing, her face set. "I had a nervous breaking down after the 60th Hunger Games." She turned to Haymitch. "They aired your Games for a week straight, and I never recovered from having to watch you, someone I actually _knew_ , do what you did. I had to quit modeling because I lost my smile. I lost my edge. The tabloids had actually gotten that right when they printed that."

She huffed, pacing again. "Do you want to know why I can still fit into this dress? Because I haven't eaten properly in over a year. I can't keep anything down. None of you know what it's like. None of you even care. I picked your name, Haymitch. I picked you to go back into the Quell."

She looked at her hands, and it was clear she saw the blood on them. "Do any of you think I'm scared to die? I'm scared to live. It's like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. So don't talk to me about, or look at me like I'm just being some Capitol _bitch_!"

"Effie—" tried, Seeder, but Effie held up her hand.

"Do any of you have any idea how many people have come up to me over the course of this year? How many people who tell me _to my bloody face_ that it's too bad Haymitch Abernathy, former Quarter Quell Victor, wasn't heading back to another Quarter Quell, where he'd probably be crowed _again_ , because he survived forty-seven other people last time, and something as trivial— _trivial_ —as having to slit his own Tribute's throat shouldn't stop him." She hiccupped, noticing the tears on her cheeks for the first time. "They're actually disappointed that they don't get to watch Katniss' own Mentor kill her."

The silence was definite. They all stared at her, their mouth's open, their eyes wide.

"I am so tired." She sounded tired. Her voice was down to a whisper. "They just… walk up to me, like Vamous, at least once a day, to tell me how it's _too bad_ Haymitch wasn't going back into the Arena. Like Katniss and Peeta, or any of you, weren't enough."

They all stayed silent for a long time, until Finnick finally stepped forward. "Effie," he said softly, but she glared at him and had him swallowing whatever it is he was about to say.

"I'm going back home. I live but a few blocks away." She started to head home in her heels when Haymitch grabbed her.

"Hell no," Haymitch said, and he had that _look_ on his face, that look that let her know she could scream, shout, yell, whatever, but it wouldn't make a difference. He'd be getting his way tonight. "You're coming with us because you can't walk two steps."

She frowned. "I can too."

She tried to show them her point, but she ended up falling.

Haymitch, though, was able to catch her.

"Tonight sucked," she pouted, looking at him.

He smirked, but his eyes were guarded. "Not exactly, Princess." He wiped the trail of tears that had fallen down her face.

"I wanted to have a good time. If I had wanted a bad night I'd have gone to the stupid Capitol party."

"We can continue the party at your place, yah?" asked Johanna, sliding her arm through Effie's.

Effie stared at Johanna. "Yes. All right."

They never even made it to the 12th floor. They got off on Johanna's floor, and finished the party in her room.

When Effie woke up the next morning, the room still spinning, she was on the couch. Haymitch was on to opposite end of the couch, and how they both passed out there she'd never know. Johanna was nowhere to be found, so Effie assumed she had gone to her room. Seeder was in an armchair and Chaff was on the floor, a glass still in his hand, and Finnick was in the kitchen, passed out on the tile.

She felt like death. She barely found the energy to write a note to the kids, giving them the day off, and handing it to an Avox, before she passed out again.

Effie never remembered the night before, not until she had asked Haymitch what had changed between them, many years after the war, and he told her the story.

For now, with her head spinning, she vowed she'd never go out on the town with these people again.


	40. Chandelier

_So I wanted to do a fan fic where Effie is a little bit edgier than usual. Every time we meet Effie in my stories she's older, and more composed. I always have Effie aged three years younger than Haymitch, and becoming his Escort during the 55_ _th_ _Hunger Games. I also normally have the 60_ _th_ _Hunger Game (Haymitch's 10 year Anniversary to his Quarter Quell) as her breaking point. I wanted to write a fic where we see young Effie acting out due to being an Escort. Kind of like Miley Cyrus and Justin Beiber. Child stars gone wild LOL. I think Effie might have gone through that stage, and I thought Sia's 'Chandelier' was the PERFECT song to express it._

 _Also I need to post this because it's where I am in my life after watching the premiers of Empire and How to Get Away with Murder. I canNOT right now. My life is in SHAMBLES. At least Black-ish gave me some comedic relief._

 _Enjoy!_

 **CHANDELIER**

 **Rated T**

 _Party girls don't get hurt_

 _Can't feel anything, when will I learn_

 _I push it down, push it down_

Effie knew a thing or two about having a good time. It's what she did as a citizen of the Capitol. It's what she did as a model. What she was _supposed_ to do. And just as she was good at dressing up and working and walking a runway, she was good at showing up at a bar and being the life of the party.

No one cared that as the years progressed the partying got worse.

She was young, they'd say.

Let her live.

And live she did, unlike the children whose names she picked every single year.

 _I'm the one "for a good time call"_

 _Phone's blowin' up, ringin' my doorbell_

 _I feel the love, feel the love_

She never went out the night after the Reaping. She normally had Sponsors to talk to, meetings to attend, and she was much too busy to be a party girl when she needed to be an Escort.

This year was different.

When she got the text for the official Hunger Games party, she left the Penthouse and made her way to her house, where she changed out of her Escort clothes and into a skintight black dress by Vera Wang. She put on her Jimmy Choo shoes, her Tiffany's bracelet, her Mac Lipstick, and left to the bar.

 _1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink_

 _1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink_

 _1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink_

 _Throw 'em back, till I lose count_

They were all so excited to see her that they ran up to her, demanding that drinks be on them, because she never, ever came out with them on this night.

There used to be a time when she'd take special care to ensure that she didn't drink too much. She never went over her limit, and if she did, she was always around close friends or family.

Tonight, for the first time, it didn't matter.

One shot, two shots, three shouts.

Double.

Triple.

She just threw them back until it didn't matter.

Until nothing mattered.

Until she was numb.

 _I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier_

 _I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist_

 _Like it doesn't exist_

 _I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry_

 _I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier_

The club they went to had a strip pole, and she and her girlfriends had taken a class that one time, just for the hell of it.

Because she was a perfectionist, she still remembered all the moves, and she was drunk enough to not realize she had even climbed the pole, and was swinging around it.

All she heard were the cheers, and when the men and women threw money at her, she used it to buy more drinks for her and her friends.

Effie Trinket, always the life of the party.

She never even noticed the cameras.

 _But I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down won't open my eyes_

 _Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

 _Help me, I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down won't open my eyes_

 _Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

 _On for tonight_

She didn't remember leaving the club, or getting into the car with her girls.

They wouldn't let her drive, even though she told them she was fine.

Absolutely not, they had told her, pocketing her keys. She might die with how wasted she was.

They couldn't know that she was already dying.

She was in the middle of the street, screaming at the top of her lungs, yet no one could hear her.

Nobody saw her.

So she went along with them, waving goodbye as they dropped her back at the Penthouse, promising they'd return her car to her house.

 _Sun is up, I'm a mess_

 _Gotta get out now, gotta run from this_

 _Here comes the shame, here comes the shame_

The headline read 'Effie, Model and Escort Extraordinaire, Parties in Uptown,' and for once she wished a picture was only worth a thousand words.

She looked trashy and classless, swinging from that pole. She hadn't even remembered _doing_ that. And why did _every_ picture have her with a drink in her hand?

When the announcer said, "Maybe Effie will add stripper to her resume next," she choked out a sob and turned off the television.

When she turned around, Haymitch was there, a small frown on his lips.

She faltered, and then looked away, shame heating her face.

 _1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink_

 _1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink_

 _1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 drink_

 _Throw 'em back till I lose count_

Yet she was back out again that same night, this time dressed in a hot red Coco Chanel dress, nude Christian Louboutin heels, and Cartier jewelry.

This bar she favored, so she was allowed to get drunk out of her mind. The bartender would take care of her.

She was grinding against some Capitol man when Haymitch and Chaff walked in.

Their eyes locked, no longer than a second, and her demeanor slipped.

He saw it, the shock, then the sadness and pain, and then she was being offered another drink, and she threw it back without a second thought.

 _I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier_

 _I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist_

 _Like it doesn't exist_

 _I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry_

 _I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier_

Haymitch and Chaff were in another corner of the bar when the crowd erupted. He looked up to see Effie on the bar, dancing, everyone cheering her on.

She was dancing well for a woman drunk out of her mind in six-inch stilettos, and he frowned as she accepted another shot from another stranger.

He'd seen her take body shots, double shots, and had shots poured into her mouth.

"That's just Effie," one guy had said near him. "She's famous here. Look, her pictures are everywhere."

That was true.

She was smiling, but didn't look happy in any of them.

 _But I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down, won't open my eyes_

 _Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

 _Help me, I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down, won't open my eyes_

 _Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

She turned around, her back to the crowd, spread her arms, and fell back, trusting the crowd to catch her.

She was disappointed when they did.

The crowd screamed even louder as they passed her around. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the way the room spun around.

She let a couple of girls take body shots on her, and then took a double from a man with a funny beard.

Pretty soon she was back by the bar, where the bartender helped her back up, and then handed her another shot.

She toasted to the air and drank it.

 _On for tonight_

 _On for tonight_

 _'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

 _Oh, I'm just holding on for tonight_

She went back to dancing, in rhythm to the music, her eyes closed.

She just wanted to have a good time.

So why did the pain come? Why did the hurt come?

She kept seeing it, over and over again.

Weren't the dreams enough? How was she supposed to live with the guilt?

She couldn't think about it. Wouldn't think about.

She was way passed her limit, but she demanded another shot.

The bartender—Frankio—gave her two. She tossed back one, much to the crowd's delight, and her eyes rested on the television screen.

Haymitch, holding on to Masilee.

 _On for tonight_

 _On for tonight_

 _'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

 _'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight_

She was pretty sure no one heard her gasp. She would bet a ton of money that hardly anyone saw her throw her glass shot.

But when the television's glass shattered, the entire club became silent.

There was no way they missed her throwing the second shot glass, because all eyes were already on her.

She could feel their stares, and her resolve starting to slip.

She turned around, slowly, so slowly, a single tear trickling down her face.

Her eyes immediately found Haymitch, who was moving through the crowd like lightening, Chaff hot on his heels, their faces set.

 _Oh, I'm just holding on for tonight_

 _On for tonight_

 _On for tonight_

Chaff grabbed Effie while Haymitch talked to the bartender.

She never found out that Haymitch paid for the damage and their silence.

They exited out the back, away from the cameras that were sure to be out front, just like they were when they arrived.

Chaff left to go get them a car, leaving them alone.

"You pull a stunt like that again, you'll be killed," Haymitch said harshly.

"So." More tears fell, and then—"I'm so sorry Haymitch."

He knew what she was saying, and didn't acknowledge it.

But after tonight, things would never be the same between them.


	41. Baby Blues

_Sequel to Welcome Home, though it can definitely be read alone. If you haven't read Welcome Home, (Chap 23), or just need a reminder, Effie brings home their son, who's been hiding in the Capitol in order to be kept safe. I got some requests for a sequel, but nothing specific, so this is what I came up with._

 _Prompts are coming along great. You guys have amazing brains. Remember to leave your requests in a REVIEW. Thanks!_

 **BABY BLUES**

 **Rated K**

Effie found Haymitch exactly where she thought she would. She leaned against the doorframe for several moments, tiny pieces of her heart both breaking and swelling at the same time.

He was sitting in front of the bed, facing the little boy, watching him. Effie was afraid to approach him. She knew that sometimes he could be lost in his own world, and it'd be dangerous for her to sneak up on him.

His protective instincts were on red now. They'd gone down to orange for the past few years, but now, ever since the little boy's arrival, everything was magnified.

It was like they hadn't even won the war.

"He's beautiful," Haymitch said softly, and Effie relaxed. She walked towards him and sat down beside him. He helped her without even thinking about it, and without taking his eyes off the little boy.

"Yes he is," agreed Effie, resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm okay," he assured her quietly.

She didn't comment. She just continued to sit there, next to him, her fingers intertwined with his. They stayed that way for about an hour, until the sun slowly started to rise.

He hadn't slept through the night since the boy's arrival.

When the sun was bright enough to show the boy's black hair, Haymitch got up, brushed the boy's forehead, and walked out, Effie close behind him. They walked to their bedroom, where Effie closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar.

She reached out and grabbed his hand, and then pulled her to him. His hands found their way to her hips and his face into her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him.

"Don't be," said Haymitch against her neck.

"You're scared again. The nightmares are back."

"He's worth it." He gently pushed her back so that he could look at her. "I promise he is. The nightmares come in stages anyway. Those will never go away."

"You're shaking." He immediately dropped his hands, but she grabbed them, locking their fingers. "You want a drink, for the first time in three years. I did that."

"I don't know how to not be scared," he admitted. "Before he came, I had days where I actually forgot. Now it's just fear again. So much fear."

"Haymitch, I need you to calm down. You know if you have a fit I'll have an episode of my own."

"I know. I'm sorry." He pulled her into him, attempting to calm them both down. "I'm happy he's here. He deserves to be with his parents. But I'm so bloody terrified."

Effie looked into Haymitch's eyes. "Haymitch this child will never know the fear you did. You risked your life to ensure that could never happen. We all did. And, if, God forbid, something ever happens… my God you're Haymitch Abernathy. You didn't just win a Hunger Game, you won a Quarter Quell. You were ready to enter another Quell if you had to. On top of that you led a Rebellion that led to a war that took down Snow and Coin. As if that isn't enough, this child has Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, all former Victors, who have already gone to hell and back for you, which means they'd to the same for our child. Not to mention Paylor is in your corner too."

Haymitch blinked at her.

" _And_ there are over two dozen secret service agents in this District, at your command, any time, any place. He's _safe_ , Haymitch."

"Safe…" repeated Haymitch quietly. "Safe from the outside world, maybe, but what about me?"

"What about you?"

"I'm a drunk—"

"Former drunk—"

"Functioning drunk."

"You haven't touched a bottle in five years."

"And I want to now more than ever. I'm _itching_ for it, Effie. How the hell can I protect him if—"

Effie silenced him with a kiss. "Stop it. You have a way of self-sabotaging your happiness. You can be afraid. I'm scared too. But we'll get through this. We have each other."

"More importantly we have a son," Haymitch whispered.

"I have an idea," said Effie. "Why don't we call Beetee? You know he'll design a system that'll have this boy more protected than Paylor."

Haymitch felt the fear in his chest loosen a little.

"That… that's a great idea."

Effie smiled. "He'll hate us by the time he's a teenager."

"But he'll be alive."

Effie wrapped her arms around Haymitch's neck, pulling him down to her. Their lips met and she was about to drag him off to the bed when the sound of little feet met their ears. They barely had enough time to break apart before the door swung open.

"Morning Daddy!" And he was up in Haymitch's arms.

Haymitch smiled at the little boy in his arms. His handsome son of five years old. His heart swelled, and something that felt ridiculously like unconditional love possessed his soul. "Morning, Ash."


	42. Adventures in Babysitting

_Sequel to Baby Magic, (Chap 24) though it can definitely be read alone. Just one-shots of Hayffie babysitting. Title comes from that AMAZING 80's movie of the same name._

 **ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING**

 **RATED K- kinda**

The door opened and Effie barely had time to take in Peeta, Katniss, and that _adorable_ bundle in her arms, before a little pink blur was running towards her.

"Aunt Effie!" cried Willow, wrapping her toddler arms around Effie's legs, but before Effie could bend down and give the girl a proper hug, she was off and running. "Granpy Haymitch!" She ran towards the man coming down the stairs and jumped into his arms. He smoothly caught her, spinning her in the air and laughing.

"Hi Sweet Pea," the man said, his eyes twinkling. She was the only other person that could get Haymitch to fully smile, with the exception of Effie. Willow clung to Haymitch like she did every time they were together, burying her face in his neck.

Still in his arms she turned to Effie. "You're right, Aunt Effie, he _does_ smell like dirt."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow while Katniss started laughing.

"Willow, that's not very nice," Peeta said sternly, though his mouth was twitching.

" _I_ didn't say it, Daddy," pouted Willow. "Aunt Effie did."

"I didn't say Granpy Haymitch smelled like dirt. I said he smelled like _coal_."

Willow scrunched up her nose. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Not quite, Dear," smiled Effie. "Besides, that was supposed to be between you, me, and your mother. Girl talk _always_ stays between the girls, Willow. It's only proper."

Willow rolled her eyes dramatically. "How many rules are there Aunt Effie?"

Haymitch snorted. "I've known the woman for nearly forty years, and she still events new ones."

"It's _rude_ to talk about people as if they're not in the same room."

This time Haymitch rolled his eyes—who else would Willow have picked it up from?—and turned to Willow. " _That_ one I've heard a few times over the years."

"And you'd think you'd have learned by now," scowled Effie.

"Well you know what they say, Princess. You can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"And you certainly are _old_."

Haymitch glared at her. "That is not what you said a few moments ago upstairs."

Effie blushed and was about to retort when Katniss interrupted. "Okay that's enough," she said, walking up to Effie. "Aren't you two too old for that? You're gonna break something."

"What do they do?" asked Willow.

"Something you never will," Haymitch said before anyone could answer. "Ever."

"It's very dangerous," agreed Katniss. She stared back at Haymitch, her eyes narrowed. "Especially when you're _old_."

"Seriously, Katniss, we're not _that_ old," Effie said.

"Old enough," the dark-haired woman mumbled. "Here's Rye. Peeta and I shouldn't be gone more than a few hours. If we're gone any later we'll call."

"Take your time," waved Effie dismissively. "The four of us will be fine. You two don't get out nearly enough, so enjoy your date, and happy anniversary."

"Thanks Effie," Peeta said with a smile. The two of them started to leave when Willow slithered out of Haymitch's arms.

"Bye Daddy!" She gave her father a fleeting hug, and then ran to her mother, doing the same. "Love you Mommy. See you later."

"Have fun with Granpy Haymitch and Aunt Effie," said Katniss.

"I always do," Willow said. "They're funny. They always fight. Not at all _boring_ like you and Daddy."

Katniss snorted and Peeta laughed. "I'll take boring any day."

"That is no way to talk about the two people who are taking your children off of your hands for a few hours," Effie said, though she was smiling.

They all said their final goodbyes and Effie immediately sat down to get a good look at Rye.

He was the most _charming_ little thing in all of Panem. He had blond hair that rivaled Peeta's and Katniss' dark grey eyes. Effie spoiled him the same way Haymitch spoiled Willow.

"How's my handsome boy?" cooed Effie as Rye smiled up at her. He adored her just as much as Willow adored Haymitch. It was like there was one for each of them.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," Haymitch responded, and Effie ignored Haymitch while Willow laughed.

"Can we feed the geese?" asked Willow, and Effie's head snapped up. Willow had asked a lot of things over the past couple of years, ever since she'd been talking, but this was the first.

"I don't think—" Effie started.

"Sure, Sweet Pea, why not?" interrupted Haymitch.

Effie stood up, Rye cradled in her arms, as Haymitch made his way to the kitchen. "Haymitch, I don't think it's a good idea. Those birds are monsters."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "It's fine, Effie."

"It's not fine. They're bullies."

Haymitch grabbed the bread, grinning. "Only to you. I trained them to hate you."

Effie looked scandalized and then looked down at Rye. He was scowling at Haymitch. "Did you hear that? Isn't he an awful man? But who needs him when I have _you_?" Effie kissed Rye and he laughed. Haymitch pretended to gag and she hit him on her way out of the kitchen.

She watched Willow and Haymitch as they fed the geese, smiling softly as Haymitch showed her how. He introduced her to all the geese, and Willow, ever the brave one, wasn't at all afraid.

When they walked back to the house Haymitch had his signature smirk on his face. "Told you it'd be fine, Princess." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and started to walk passed her when Willow stopped walking. She spun around and tapped Haymitch on the knee. He arched an eyebrow.

" _I_ wanna be Princess," she stated firmly.

"What?" asked Haymitch.

" _I_ wanna be Princess!"

"Hey, I like you and all, kid, but I'm not playing dress up with you. You can go to Aunt Effie for that. She was thousands of dresses in the closet."

"Daddy calls me Princess. Why can't you?"

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Oh. You mean you want me to _call_ you Princess?" Haymitch snorted. "Tough shit."

" _Haymitch_!" gasped Effie.

"Now you gotta put money in the swear jar!" Haymitch sighed and started to walk inside when he was once again stopped by Willow. "I still wanna be Princess."

"No."

Willow and Effie both blinked at him. He'd never told her no before. Like ever.

Willow obviously didn't know how to respond.

"Why not?" She was using that soft voice that normally got her whatever she wanted, but not this time, apparently.

"Because you're Sweet Pea to me, and have been ever since the day I met you."

Haymitch walked passed her and Willow followed, stomping her feet. "I wanna be _Princess_!" Effie sighed, shaking her head.

"Tough titty," replied Haymitch.

"Haymitch you have on more time on _this_ day to curse in front of these children."

"Pipe down, Princess."

At that Willow burst into tears, pushing Haymitch with all her four-year-old strength. "You're the _worst_ Grandpy _ever_!"

"Willow Mellark," snapped Effie, who had taken that tone with her a few times. "You will not talk to him like that." She loved the girl, but she could certainly be a spoiled brat sometimes.

Haymitch looked shocked. "Are you throwing a _tantrum_?"

" _I_ wanna be your Princess. Why can't I? It's not _fair_. I even wore this pretty pink dress just for you."

Haymitch looked like he was seeing Willow for the first time. He looked at Effie, clearly out of his element, and she shrugged. At that moment Rye started to get fussy so Effie left Haymitch to figure it out so that she could grab Rye's bottle.

Haymitch sighed and picked Willow up, who squirmed, trying to wrestle out of his grasp. "Put me _down_ ," she pouted.

Haymitch scowled and placed her none too gently on the couch, crouching down in front of her and placing his hand on her chest so she couldn't move.

"Listen to me," he barked out, and Effie cringed. He was being too hard.

"Try again," called out Effie, and she heard Haymitch sigh.

"Willow, Sweet Pea is a good name to have. The best, in fact. Did I ever tell you why I call you that?"

Willow poked out her lip, folding her arms across her chest, her mother's scowl planted on her face.

It took all of Haymitch's strength not to give up right then and there. He already had one Katniss Everdeen. He was too old to deal with two.

With the utmost patience he said, "I call you Sweet Pea in honor of two of the most important women in my life, okay?" His voice was low because he'd slit his own neck with his own knife before he ever said any of this to Effie. "I call your mother Sweetheart, and Aunt Effie Princess."

"But Princess is the best," argued Willow. "They're always the prettiest girls in the story."

"You don't have to be called Princess to know you're the prettiest girl in all of the world."

Willow unfolded her arms. "Am I the prettiest girl?"

"Of course you are!"

"Are you sure?"

"Do you see all this grey hair on my head?" Willow nodded. "It means I'm smarter than you right now. So I'd know if you were pretty or not."

"You do have good taste. Aunt Effie is pretty."

"She's okay," grinned Haymitch.

"And Mommy's pretty too."

"I've seen better."

"And _you're_ pretty."

Haymitch blinked at her. "That is not a very nice thing to say. Men are not pretty. They're handsome. And I'm the handsomest of them all."

"Not handsomest than Daddy. But close."

"Thanks, Kid," said Haymitch sarcastically, not even bothering to correct her grammar.

"You're welcome! Oh, and don't forget to put money in the swear jar." She climbed off the couch and ran to Effie while Haymitch muttered something about being a former Victor and not having to deal with anything as common as money in years.

"Aunt Effie!" Willow watched as she fed Rye for a few moments. "You can keep being Princess."

Effie blinked at the little girl. "Oh, why thank you, oh great one."

"You're welcome. Granpy Haymitch said it's a mixture of the two women he loves the most. That's you and Mommy."

Effie felt herself smiling, but she didn't look at Haymitch. She already knew she'd be met with his scowl. "Is that so?"

"Yah."

"Yes," corrected Effie automatically.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said 'yah,' which isn't proper. It's important to speak properly."

Willow poked out her lip, a frown on her face. "Granpy doesn't."

"That's because Granpy doesn't listen. Ever."

"I heard that," called Haymitch.

"He only hears what I don't want him to. I'm surprised he can still hear at his age."

"You are pushing your luck, woman. You get awfully bold when you have that blond-haired, grey eyed wife-stealer in your arms." Haymitch walked towards them and Effie laughed, glancing at Rye.

"I'm sorry. Did you just call him a wife-stealer?"

"He _is_. Look at how he looks at me." Haymitch frowned and Effie glanced at the scowl on Rye's face. "He hates whenever I'm around you."

"Probably because you smell like dirt."

Willow fell out laughing at that, and Haymitch scowled.

"That wasn't very nice," Haymitch said, sticking out his tongue.

"Rye doesn't take kindly to any male presence, other than Peeta's. You know that. He's protective, just like Katniss, and just like _you_."

"He wants you all to himself," disagreed Haymitch. "He's plotting my death right now."

Effie stood up and laughed, walking up to Haymitch and kissing him on the lips. Rye started whimpering. "You've survived a Quarter Quell, nearly entered another one, and led a war. If you let a one-year old toddler take you out, I will be quite disappointed in you."

Haymitch pulled her in for another kiss, noting the way Rye started crying once he did. He scowled at the little boy, who immediately stopped crying once Haymitch stepped away and looked up at him innocently.

Well played.

"She's mine, boy," threatened Haymitch darkly. "I can kiss her whenever I bloody well please." To prove his point he went in for another kiss.

Rye started hollering.

"Honestly, Haymitch. He needs to go to sleep. We can kiss later."

" _Please_ ," said Willow, and when they both turned to her they realized she was covering her eyes with her hands.

"I'm going to go put Rye down for a nap, okay?"

As she walked off, Rye on her shoulder, Haymitch distinctly saw a smug smirk on the little rascal's face.

 _Touché you little tyke_ , thought Haymitch.

That was okay. He had Willow anyway. And if Effie didn't choose between him and Rye soon, he might just start calling Willow Princess after all.


	43. A Few of my Favorite Things

_Sequel to "Happiest Season of ALL" (Chap 25) but can be read alone. As a reminder, it's the first year Paylor's reinstated CHRISTmas for all the Districts. Effie is trying to teach Evelark and Haymitch about the holiday._

 **A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS**

 **Rated K**

"Honestly, Haymitch, it's not _that_ difficult," chided Effie.

He glared at her. "If it's so damn easy why don't _you_ come up here and do it?"

"Because it's not _proper_ for a _lady_ to climb up a latter."

" _You're_ the one who wants the bloody lights on the house."

"It's _Christmas_ , Haymitch. What's Christmas without Christmas lights?"

"That's the same thing you said about getting a tree," he mumbled.

"Would you stop being such a Scrooge?"

"If you call me another man's name _one more time_ , I'm climbing down and will never talk to you again."

Effie closed her eyes, taking a few calming breaths. She was going to kill him before the holiday was over, she could feel it.

"Maybe I should just have Peeta do it. He finished his lights hours ago. In fact _everyone_ has finished putting their lights up except us." She looked around at the house in Victor's Village, noting the lights and wreaths on their doors.

"I'm already up here now."

"Then _stop_ whining and complaining," she snapped, and his eyes glowed the color of slate. She stared back at him defiantly until he rolled his eyes, climbing up another step, muttering the entire time.

She took special care not to smile.

"Oh, do hurry up, Haymitch, it's _cold_."

"Again, if you want it done, you can come up here yourself."

Effie huffed; smoke blowing out of her mouth as she did. "Fine. Move aside."

"Don't be ridiculous. I've been around you when you break a nail. I can only imagine what'll happen if you break your leg."

"That is rather rude."

"So is constantly rushing somebody," pointed out Haymitch, and Effie's mouth clamped shut.

Damn it, he was right.

She sighed and made her way back into the house. She didn't bother taking off her coat, as she'd be right back outside in a few minutes. She did take off her gloves though, and made her way to the kitchen. She went to the hot chocolate maker that also doubled as a coffee maker and made two cups. She added sugar and cinnamon to hers and a couple drops of cream to Haymitch's.

When she walked back outside he was climbing down the latter, his face set.

"It's done. You happy?" he scowled.

She gave him a soft smile, handing him his mug of hot chocolate. "I'm sorry," she told him, and his scowl instantly disappeared.

"It's okay," he sighed, taking a sip. "You'd think after this long I'd be used to your nagging by now." His eyes were twinkling.

"And you'd think I'd be used to your complaining." He grinned at her, and she noted the way he looked years younger when he smiled. "Let me take your mug back inside while you put the latter up. Then we can start decorating the tree."

He sighed. "Fine. But I want food first," mumbled Haymitch, handing her his hot chocolate.

"Yes, Dear," she said with a slight roll of her eyes. She made her way back inside, placing the cooling mugs on the table. She slipped out of her jacket and started rummaging around the fridge for something to fix. She decided on the leftover lamb stew Peeta had made last night and started heating it up on the stove.

"Why does it smell like a forest?"

She shook her head. "Because there's a very large, very _real_ tree, in the house," responded Effie. Haymitch grumbled as he took off his coat and shoes, but Effie knew it was just for show. Katniss had confided in her that Haymitch wanted to look at every single tree before he made his decision, and ended up picking the best tree in the lot.

" _Effie would like this one_ ," he had said, and that's the one he got. Never mind that he had to call in several men from the Town to help them get the tree home.

She didn't tell him she knew the truth, even as he declared that he was tricked, getting involved in this whole Christmas thing. She just continued to humor him, her Scrooge.

"What are you smiling at?" snarled Haymitch.

"I'm just in the holiday spirit, I guess. Decorating the tree was always my favorite thing to do."

"That's because you decorate it _inside_ , unlike putting those stupid lights up _outside_ where I froze my ass off half to death."

"Aw, poor baby."

"Don't patronize me, woman." Effie laughed and turned back towards the stove so that the food wouldn't burn. A few moments later his hands snaked their way around her waist, his lips on her neck.

He could be affectionate at the weirdest times.

When his teeth found her ear she pushed him away. "Not now, Haymitch. It's lunchtime."

"Maybe I wanna skip to dessert," he told her, biting her ear again. "It was cold outside. Don't you wanna… warm me up?"

His lips found hers and she kissed him, slowly turning around so that she was facing him. He pulled her closer, his hands in her hair, when the door swung open.

She attempted to break away from him but he held her tighter, finishing his kiss.

" _Haymitch_ ," groaned out Katniss, but Haymitch ignored her. He was staring at Effie.

"I've walked in on them enough times," he told her, stroking her cheek. "Rain check?" She nodded and he finally turned to his Tributes. " _What_ do you two want? And why do you always want it at the worst possible times?"

"Effie said to come by at one so we could spray paint the windows."

Effie opened her mouth, and then quickly spun around to check on the food. She forgot to tell Haymitch that she wanted to do this.

"And _why_ are we vandalizing my windows?" asked Haymitch.

"It's not vandalism, Haymitch," Peeta said before Effie could respond. "It's art. We'll paint little snowmen and angels and stars."

Haymitch stared at Peeta, and then glanced at Katniss, who shrugged. "I don't know what she did to him while they shopped for supplies, but when I came back from the forest, he had all these ideas about decorations."

She shook her head and walked towards the table, sitting down, Peeta following suit. Haymitch made his way towards the cabinets, grabbing plates. He heard Effie turn off the stove, and together the two of them made their way to the table, full plates in their hands.

"Well aren't you two domestic?" teased Peeta.

Haymitch glared at him while Effie blushed. Katniss laughed.

"So what are we supposed to be doing?" asked Haymitch.

"Just adding some Christmas cheer," Effie said vaguely.

"Oh, Effie," said Peeta. "Delly called. She wanted to know if you'd help her plan a New Years party."

Effie stilled suddenly and the table grew silent. They all stared at her. "I…" She glanced at them, her hands taking the same route they always did when she was nervous: arms, hair, neck. She felt Haymitch's hand on her leg, and instantly calmed her. "She wants me to?"

"Yah." Effie couldn't hide her surprise. Peeta glanced at Haymitch and then leaned forward. "Effie, you have to understand… a lot of the people who resented you… they died in the bombing of District 12. Most of the people who survived saw your trial. They know what you went through. The resentment you saw when you first arrived five years ago was due to the fact that no one knew if we were really safe. But people are getting comfortable. I mean they see everything Paylor's doing and… I just think people are in a place where forgetting the past is part of the forgiving process. You should help Delly plan it. It could be therapeutic."

Effie stared at Peeta, and then glanced at Haymitch. "Up to you, Princess."

Effie bit her lip. "Okay. I'll give her a call."

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. They got the supplies they needed and the four of them started spray-painting. Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta all seemed surprised that she was so good at painting.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Effie said to them as she finished up her star. "If I hadn't become an Escort, I had every intention on becoming a designer. I couldn't decide between designing houses or fashion. But I always knew I couldn't model forever—"

"That's the understatement of the year," interrupted Haymitch, and she eyed him. Katniss and Peeta were polite enough to try to hold in their laughter.

" _Anyway_ , I always thought that'd be my next venture. I designed most of the gowns Cinna made me. And I had quite a say in creating your Mockingjay suit, Katniss, particularly since it was my idea."

They all stopped and stared at her, and she had moved on to paint another star before she noticed.

"What?" she asked.

"It was your idea to create my suit?" asked Katniss.

"Of course it was. Cinna was going to trick out your uniform in 13, but I took one look at it and forbade him to do so. You were our Mockingjay. You certainly had to look the part. I suggested leather, and black. Lots of pockets, because you'd have a lot of weapons. Secret compartments. Cinna executed it, though. You know the man was a genius."

She said it all so nonchalantly, like it wasn't even that big of deal, but it was.

"That means a lot to me, Effie. Really." Effie glanced at Katniss, noting how serious the girl was.

Effie gave Katniss a small smile and went back to painting.

After the kids left Effie went upstairs and grabbed the bags of decorations.

Haymitch moaned. "There's _more_?" Effie shot him a look that had him sighing. "Where do we start?"

They started with the fireplace. They decorated the garland with pinecones, cobalt blue and dark silver ornaments, and white lights. They added dark blue stockings to the fireplace as well. There was one for each of them, created by Effie's hand in silver writing. Haymitch helped Effie add Christmas lights to the windows and add even more garland with white lights to the staircase.

They saved the tree for last. Haymitch followed her directions, grabbing popcorn and apples— _food_ —and placing it on a string. They wrapped it around the tree, Haymitch more confused than ever, but went along with it, because Effie was totally in her element, and completely excited. They added more pinecones, and then silver and blue ornaments. Some of them said their names, and the kid's names, and eventually she added Johanna, Annie, Finn, and Beetee.

"Growing up we always had colored lights everywhere," Effie said. "But I thought the white lights would be nice against the blue and silver."

It _was_ scenic. It was nearly dark now, and Effie had insisted on turning off of the lights and starting a fire. She turned on all the decorations, and he had to admit, it was pretty damn perfect.

"I feel like it's missing something," he said with a frown.

"Well normally there are presents under the tree, but we're not exchanging gifts."

"Yes we are," he muttered.

She turned to him. "No we're not. I told you we weren't. And there's only two weeks until Christmas so you're not changing my mind."

Haymitch shrugged and walked to his coat pocket, pulling a perfectly wrapped rectangle gift. "Should I send this back then?"

Effie just stared at him. "You didn't."

He didn't answer her. He just placed the little box under the tree. She stared at it for several moments, blinking rapidly. He thought for the first time he had actually stunned her.

"Well," she said. "Okay then." And she turned and headed upstairs, coming back with a wrapped gift of her own. "You aren't surprised."

"Nope," said Haymitch. "I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. When a woman says she doesn't want a gift, she's lying, and she always has a gift in return."

Effie laughed, placing the gift down next to his. "I suppose we have to get the kids gifts now."

Haymitch frowned. "I didn't say all that." She leaned against him and his arms wrapped around her waist. "It's still missing something."

"Oh! Goodness, you're right." She rummaged around the mostly empty bags until she found what she was looking for. She held a gold ornament in the shape of a mockingjay out to him. "This goes on top of the tree. Will you do the honor?"

Haymitch took the ornament and put it on top of the tree, making sure it was secure. He stepped back and looked at it. "Perfect." He glanced around the room, noting the color scheme. "They match our eyes," Haymitch said aloud.

Effie grinned at him. "Yes," confirmed Effie. "Christmas trees, decorations, lights, blue eyes, and Seam grey. Want to know what they all have in common?"

"What?" She pulled him to her, kissing him gently.

"They're a few of my favorite things."


	44. Lipstick Endeavors

_Saw Tamia in concert the other night. Amazing. That girl can sing her ENTIRE face off. She's incredible. Anyway, this song is from her latest album, Love Life. It's called 'Lipstick.' This song is so Effie it's ridiculous. Not a song fic, just a song that inspired a fic._

 _Got on the little dress you like_

 _The champagne is sitting on ice_

 _With strawberries and candle lights_

 _My heels about 7 inch high_

 _The slit is running up my thigh_

 _You the king, daddy, it's yours tonight_

 _You're just so turned on that you can't even breathe_

 _Your fingertips are all over me_

 _No turning around cause_

 _My contour is on the floor, french kisses for mi amor_

 _You whisper to me, "I need some more"_

 _Then you started losing control_

 _Messing up my lipstick, pulling on my hair_

 _Ruining my outfit, I don't even care_

 _You need to understand that I'd do anything for my man_

 _Nothing but Egyptian cotton on the bed_

 _Don't you worry bout that, I jut wanna sweat_

 _You need to understand that I'd do anything for my man_

 _You keep on, messing up my lipstick_

 _Ooh you're messing up my lipstick_

 _You keep on, you keep on messing up my lipstick_

 **LIPSTICK**

 **Rated M**

He wasn't sure who he should be more angry at: Cinna, for designing such a dress, or Effie for wearing it. He knew it'd been her idea. How else would Cinna know that it was his favorite style on her? The couture dress, the color of the richest red wine that hugged every curve, and left little to the imagination.

She looked beautiful, despite the damn wig and makeup.

It almost made this stupid Victory Tour worth it; to think of the things he was going to do to her once he took the damn dress _off_.

He had to make it through the night, first.

When Cinna approached him Haymitch frowned.

"Are you fucking crazy?" asked Haymitch without preamble. Cinna arched an eyebrow. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to be on alert when you designed a dress like that for Effie?"

Cinna grinned. "She deserved a pretty dress, and you deserved a distraction. Relax a little. Go ask Effie to dance."

"I would. Honestly I would. But the fact that you have me in a _matching red tie_ as Effie's dress might cause too much attention."

Cinna rolled his eyes. "You're her Mentor, and she's your Escort. It's showing unity."

"And it's fucking dangerous," Haymitch hissed out, staring at the designer.

Cinna sighed. "Haymitch. Stop being a rebel for _two minutes_. The kids are fine. Go dance with Effie."

Cinna disappeared and Haymitch watched him. Then his eyes made his way to the dance floor, where he saw Portia dancing with Peeta, and Plutarch dancing with Katniss.

He easily spotted Effie. She was talking with Coral, her arch nemesis, and Haymitch took that as his cue. Tonight _was_ going smoothly, and they didn't need any eyes on them. And Coral and Effie within the same vicinity as each other was sure to cause unwanted attention.

He walked towards them, noting the slight strain on Effie's face, and quickly bypassed Coral and grabbed Effie's arm, leading her to the dance floor.

His hands automatically wrapped themselves around the waist he was so familiar with, and his heartbeat sped up at the hitch in her breath she always made when he touched her there.

"Haymitch, should we be—"

"Cinna insisted I stop being a rebel and dance with you," he interrupted, and she smiled at him.

When the hell did it start making him weak in the knees?

"So Cinna had to convince you to dance with me?"

"Well I wouldn't have needed convincing if my tie didn't match you." She chuckled and wrapped her arms even tighter around him. They started swaying, neither one of them actually hearing the music. They had always danced to the beat of their own drum, at least for the past couple of years. She stood as tall as him, her skyscraper heels a stunning seven inches tonight.

"It was my idea," confessed Effie. "I guess I sort of wanted to stake my claim on you. Show the world we're a team."

He frowned at her. "That's dangerous."

"Yes, well, we live our life that way, don't we? Speaking of our life, I danced with Plutarch earlier. He said to tell you that you're entirely too sober." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I believe his exact words were to tell you to start acting like the damn drunk you're supposed to be before Katniss tried to eat those bloody berries."

Haymitch laughed and pulled her a little closer. "I have to say it's such a bloody turn on to hear you talk that way." He knew his voice was husky, and he blamed the dress, and her scent, and he hoped tonight wouldn't take forever because he wanted nothing more than to rip that dress off of her.

She seemed to know what he was thinking because her breath hitched again.

He gave her his signature smirk and let his hands linger on the top of her ass. She barely concealed her shiver.

"Go get drunk, you insufferable fool." Her voice had dropped a few octaves too.

"Keep away from the guy with the green hair. I don't like how many times you've danced with him, or the way he looks at you."

His voice had that hint of warning in it that always, _always_ turned her on.

"I do love it when you're jealous, Darling." She straightened his tie but he grabbed her hands, his voice low.

"I'm serious. I don't like him. If I have to go get drunk, I need you to be my eyes. He's glanced over here several times and I'd really like to sink my fist into his face a few times. Be careful."

Effie stared at him. "So noted. I'll see you on the train."

 **XxXxXx**

She was sitting against her vanity, facing the door, music playing softly in the background, when he _finally_ entered her room.

"It's about time," she said softly, and before she could continue to fuss his lips were on hers, his hands digging into her hips. She moaned, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him in even deeper.

Pretty soon she was pushing him away, needing air, but before she could even capture the essence of breathing his lips were back on hers again, and his hands were everywhere. "Haymitch," she said, but he ignored her, kissing her all over. " _Haymitch_."

"I missed you," he mumbled, already fumbling with the millions of straps on her dress. "And tomorrow I'm back in 12, and who fucking knows if I'll see you again?" His lips were on her ear, making her shiver. "I'm not even a mentor anymore. This might be our last time together."

"I know. That's why I'd like to take our _time_."

He backed away, noticing what he hadn't before: candles, strawberries, champagne on ice. Her wig was already gone, her makeup washed off, and it took his breath away.

He walked back up to her, this time taking it slowly. Their eyes stayed locked together as he slowly pulled the strings of her front facing corset. It was a tricky little number that in the end he had to rip, her outfit ruined. The dress fell to floor in slow motion, and suddenly his fingertips were all over her.

She tasted like strawberries and champagne, and her tongue was soft, her moan low.

They made their way to the bed, taking their time, enjoying each other. He knew how to make her sigh, how to make her moan, how to make her gasp, how to make her groan. They hadn't been doing this long, but he'd learned her.

He found he really actually always knew her.

He couldn't keep his lips off of hers, even when he entered her. He assaulted her mouth, stifling her moan, only breaking away long enough to hear her moan his name, over and over and over again.

After several moments she switched their positions, riding him like a woman possessed, and he gripped her hips, his eyes never leaving hers, even as she came, erupting violently.

His lips were on hers to silence the noise she was making.

He lifted one of those long, slender legs over his shoulder, her bright red heels in the air. He thought his heart might give out as he slid in and out of her, and even he couldn't control the sounds coming out of his mouth.

When he came it was _her_ lips on his, covering up his string of curses.

The room was spinning and he was sincerely close to a heart attack. Gasping for air he collapsed on top of her, his lips on her neck, his teeth biting her ear. She moaned again, her hands sliding down his back.

When he found his voice he lifted his weight off of her to look at her. He gave her a lazy smirk. "You got a little something right…" he pointed to all of her face… " _there_."

She smiled at him. It was an inside joke between them, dating back to the first time they kissed, in the middle of a fight, and he had smeared her lipstick all over her face.

"You got somethin' on your face," he had said as she had stood there, utterly speechless, and he'd walked out the room.

He kissed her a year later, drunk out of his mind, but not drunk enough to not remember those words.

They were familiar now, and they caused a lump to form in her throat.

He nipped at her lips and finally slid off of her, his body caressing the Egyptian sheets, promising himself that he'd remember this moment forever, just in case it _was_ their last.

He had a lot of favorite things about Effie.

Her soft black hair that he buried his face in.

Her Persian blue eyes that always saw right through him.

Her creamy skin that stood out against his olive skin.

Her long legs that wrapped around his waist.

Her elegant curves that he knew every inch of.

Her filthy mouth that knew every inch of him.

But what he loved most about her was her lipstick, and how it always ended up everywhere.

Proof of their endeavors.


	45. Addict

_I fully credit BlackCat46 for this prompt, because without our corresponding messages, I would not have thought of it.  
_

" _Oh my God, that is so sad! I love this song [CHANDELIER, REFERENCING CHAP 40] and the way you wrote this. I can definitely imagine that Effie isn't quite as proper as she makes out. But they can't be the same... Not now... Oh, God... **Crying** this is sad and perfect. Well done. Xoxo"_

 _Me: "LOL glad you enjoyed! But don't worry, it's just a phase for Effie. Eventually she gets her act together and switches to the pills as opposed to the drinking LOL oh my God I just got a new prompt idea. GENIUSSSS thanks lol"_

 **ADDICT**

 **Rated T for language**

"I don't take _drugs_ mother."

"Dearest they're not drugs," claimed Cleara, still holding out the package of pills. "They're sleeping pills with a little… _extra_ to get you through the night. It's like taking wine and pills."

"It sounds like being cross-faded," Effie said.

"Euphemia," and her mother's voice held a quiet warning that had Effie sighing and slumping in her seat. "Don't _slump_ , child! It's not proper. Where _are_ your manners?"

"Mother—"

"That's enough, Effie. Now you will take these pills. No daughter of mine will walk around looking like you do. It's bad enough you're starting to see the circles under your eyes through your makeup. It's ridiculous. You still represent this family, unfortunately. Not like your sisters, who have _both_ gotten married already."

Effie held in a sigh. _Here we go again,_ she thought.

"And why aren't you married, Effie Dear? You were a famous model. You're an Escort, and even if it's for the lowest District in all of Panem, it's still a respectable job. And all your friends pity you for having to work with that lowly drunk. I'm sure all the men want to rescue you. Seneca proposed _twice_. So what's the deal, Dear?"

 _Because I'm screwing the hell out of that lowly drunk, and no one else will ever compare_ , somehow didn't sound _proper_ enough, so Effie said, "Because Seneca was an idiot, Mother."

"But he was a respectable idiot."

Effie stood up, trying her hardest to keep herself under control. "I didn't love him."

Cleara Trinket laughed dramatically, throwing her head back and clutching her chest. "Dearest Effie. What has love ever had to do with it?" Then her smile was gone, in a second. "I didn't love your father. I still don't. And he doesn't love me."

 _Which is why he hardly ever comes home at night_ , Effie thought, but she already knew what her mother would do. Her cheek would be red for a week straight. Even _mentioning_ her father's affairs could risk the world knowing that Cleara and Treadmont Trinket weren't as perfect as everyone thought. Though Effie thought it was rather obvious, figuring half the Capitol knew of her father's naughty escapades.

"But he's provided me a happy home, and three beautiful girls," continued Clara.

 _Then why do you need the pills?_

"Two of who I am extremely proud of. I'd love to add you to the list if you were to ever _marry_. You're getting _old_ , Dear, which is made obvious because you can't hide the darkness under your eyes. There's no telling how many Louis Vuitton bags could fit under there."

Effie shook her head softly. Her mother knew nothing of her. Bottega Veneta was much more her style.

"I must go, Mother. I'm late for a meeting." She kissed both her mother's cheeks.

"Take the pills, Dear. They help. They really do."

Effie took the little blue pills and stuck them in her purse. She wouldn't take them. She wouldn't _need_ them. She knew better than anyone where dependency got you. Look at where it got Haymitch. Fifteen years of working with him and she had hardly ever seen him sober.

But after that year, when their twelve-year old Tribute died at the Cornucopia, the nightmares were back. So she popped a few of the little blue pills, and suddenly she felt much better. It was almost instant.

Sure it made her a little lightheaded, but she supposed that was to make her fall asleep.

It didn't stop the nightmares, but made her sleep through them.

She figured she deserved that.

During the 73rd Hunger Games, when she'd been consistently taking the pills for three years, Haymitch was in her bathroom complaining his shower didn't have warm water, so he _had_ to use hers.

She had obliged, and _how_ he came out of the bathroom, towel draped around his waist, water droplets dripping on the floor, his eyes narrowed at her, holding her bottle of pills, she'd never know.

He'd been angry with her, she realized, but she calmly explained that they weren't drugs. They just stopped the nightmares.

They didn't, not really, but they allowed her to sleep, and so what if she liked the lightheadedness of it all now? He didn't need to know that, and he couldn't really talk, could he?

But when he took her to bed that night, it was something _different_ about the way he slid into her. He was almost gentle, almost caring.

She said almost, because saying he did would make things difficult.

And they were already difficult, weren't they, with how she was really feeling about him? They had an _arrangement_ , they weren't supposed to catch _feelings_. But how could he have known she had cared for him from the start?

She assured him she wasn't addicted to the pills. "I could stop at any time," she said, taking a risk and caressing his hair.

He let her.

He didn't believe her, so he took the bottle with him when he left that night—because they never shared a bed, though he lingered around her room longer than he used to.

She let him take her pills, because she _wasn't_ addicted. She hadn't taken them in days.

She hardly ever needed them on the nights they slept together.

The only thing Effie Trinket was dependent on, and addicted to, was Haymitch.


	46. Undercover

**UNDERCOVER**

 **Rated K**

"Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you the tributes of District Twelve!"

The silence that surrounded this announcement was magnified. Everything stopped. Cinna, Portia, Effie, and Haymitch all stood there, their eyes still glued to the screen, their mouths open. It wasn't until the hovercraft appeared that they finally moved.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"I know, Princess," responded Haymitch.

Effie clutched Haymitch tightly, so tightly that her nails were sure to leave marks on his skin, even through his shirt. He turned to her, and then her arms were around his neck, and he realized she was embracing him, and he had no problem hugging her back.

He was shaking, and so was she, and they held on to each other, as if they never wanted to let the other go.

"We need to alert our prep teams," Cinna finally said. "Effie, there's a dress on your bed that I laid out for you earlier. Haymitch, your suit is hanging in your closet. I'll see you two in the chamber in a little bit."

Effie and Haymitch both broke away from each other and nodded, watching them as they left on the elevator.

"I should… probably go get dressed," he said. He stared at her, trying to figure out why she was looking at him like that.

She gently bit her lip and turned her attention back to the television. Then she looked back at him. He started to go, because he didn't like the look in her eyes, but she grabbed him with surprising strength.

"Listen to me," she whispered fiercely, stepping close to him. Her voice was low, her eyes hard. "The time for pretending is over. The real Games are only just about to begin. You and I both know what those berries mean."

Haymitch stiffened, backing away from her, blinking rapidly. " _What_?" he said stupidly.

She scowled—actually _scowled_ —and stepped back up to him. "Are you a bloody Rebel or not?" He stilled, paralyzed. She stepped even closer to him. "You do whatever it takes to protect them. I'll do what I have to here, but you have to do your part in 12. Don't let him kill them. You're their Mentor. _Mentor_ them. You'll have to warn Katniss almost immediately. She's the problem child. She was young, and in love, and didn't know any better. Use those words."

Haymitch just looked at her.

"The Capitol likes to alter their Victors. You know that. Don't let them change _anything_ about her."

She stared at him for several moments, until she realized he wasn't going to say anything. She searched his eyes for several moments. They remained blank. He was truly shocked.

"Go get dressed, Haymitch," she finally snapped, and she made her way to her own room.

 **XxXxXx**

When Haymitch caught up to Cinna, on the day Katniss and Peeta were finally ready, he pinned his designer to the wall. They were in a deserted hallway, with no cameras. Haymitch knew that because it was his job to know things like that.

"Did you know?" snapped out Haymitch.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cinna asked, scowling.

"You know what I'm talking about! Did you know about Effie?"

"Of course I did," snapped back Cinna. "How the hell do you think I got this job?" Haymitch blinked, shocked, and Cinna used Haymitch's momentary confusion to push him away. "You're upset because Effie's worked for you for nineteen years and you never picked up on it. Don't be mad at me because you couldn't see what was right in front of your face."

Cinna straightened his clothes as Haymitch scowled.

"How long?" Haymitch finally asked.

"A long time."

" _How long_?"

Cinna took a deep breath. "Since the 60th Hunger Games."

Haymitch frowned. "Why then?"

"Ask her yourself."

Cinna shook his head and walked off, leaving Haymitch alone.

 **XxXxXx**

"I'll see you two later," Portia said, and with a soft kiss to Cinna's cheek, she was off, headed to finish prepping Peeta. When she was gone Haymitch turned to Cinna.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he told the designer.

"Apology accepted," responded Cinna. At that moment a figure started approaching them. "That should be Effie."

Indeed it was, but she didn't look like the Effie he knew. She was… _breathtaking_ to say the least. He openly stared as she walked towards them. She looked… _normal_. Her hair was pulled to one side, and it was all strawberry blonde. He wondered, briefly, it was her real hair, and then he realized how stupid that was. Of course it wasn't.

But the dress she wore…. She wore a black, off the shoulder, cleavage-baring, custom-made mermaid gown with a ruffled skirt and tulle straps. It hugged her in all the right places and made him actually see, for the first time, that Effie Trinket was a stunning individual.

Upon closer inspection, he realized his suit matched her dress perfectly.

She had a gold clutch in her hand, a gold arm ring clasped elegantly to her biceps, and gold earrings that looked suspiciously like Mockingjays.

"You're drooling," Cinna said with a smile in his voice, barely moving his lips. _This_ place was most likely tapped.

He was not. If Haymitch knew how to do anything, it was how to keep his emotions from showing.

Effie approached them, her Capitol mask in place.

"Miss Trinket," Cinna said, stepping forward and gently grabbing her hand. "Dare I say, you have never looked lovelier." He kissed her hand and Effie smiled at him.

"Flattery will get you far, Cinna," said Effie with a smile, and it seemed different to Haymitch somehow.

"Flattery implies I'm trying to butter you up. I am being completely honest. I do believe you'd give modeling Effie a run for her money."

"Well modeling Effie didn't have Cinna designing her dresses."

"Now who's flattering whom?" grinned Cinna.

Effie's eyes twinkled until she turned to Haymitch.

Her eyes softened, just a little, and her eyes looked him over in the blink of an eye.

He had the ability to do that too.

His stomach flip-flopped as he caught the difference. In a matter of seconds her eyes were clear, and she stared at him as if he were nothing more than her Mentor, which up until this point, was all he was.

"You look handsome, Haymitch," she told him.

"And you look perfect, Princess." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he ignored the smirk on Cinna's face and the slight blush in Effie's cheek. "Let's go get our Victor," Haymitch said quickly, looking away.

 **XxXxXx**

When her door opened Effie immediately reached above her vanity and turned on the radio sitting on the floating shelf.

"I wondered how long it'd be before you made your way to me," she said, and she started unpinning her hair again.

He closed her door softly, leaning against it. He didn't say anything. He just watched her take out the clipped pieces, transfixed that most of what was cast over her shoulder all night _had_ been her real hair. When all the clips were out she shook her hair, and it automatically fell back into place, its strawberry blonde hue cascading around her face.

He'd never seen her real hair before, and it was strange how she was revealing her true self to him.

She didn't say anything, and neither did he. He watched her as she made her way over to her en suite bathroom. She kept the door open as she started to remove her face. She was in there so long that he wondered if she was trying to drown herself. After awhile the water finally stopped running.

"You should have told me," he finally said.

She turned to face him from the bathroom. "You should have figured it out."

He stared at her, trying to remember how a person was supposed to carry on conversation. Talking seemed so easy a day ago. But how was he supposed to remember how to form letters into words that turned into complete sentences when she looked like _that_?

"You're beautiful," he finally blurted out, and he cringed. Out of all the things to say, that's what he'd come up with. Bloody hell.

She seemed truly surprised. She turned away from him and looked at her reflection. "Yes. Yes, you would think so," she said. She turned back to him. "That was a compliment coming from you, so thank you."

"You don't think you are?"

Effie shrugged. "We come from different worlds. We have different customs."

"But not too different. You're on our side."

"Yes," nodded Effie. "I am. It's personal."

Haymitch stared at her, trying to figure her out. "Why?"

She gave him a dark smile. "They messed with my Mentor," she said simply, and he blinked at her. "And now they want to mess with our Tributes."

"I'll protect them."

"You better. I've been waiting nearly fifteen years for this. You've been waiting nearly twenty-five."

He nodded and started to leave. At the door he turned to her and faced her again. "I'm sorry I didn't notice."

She nodded, once. "I'm sorry you didn't either."

"Keep it up, though. They'll be watching us all closely now."

"Darling I invented undercover. Don't worry about me. You just protect our Tributes."

Haymitch nodded and bid her goodnight.

She slipped out of her dress and into her nightgown, and turned off the radio.

Before climbing into bed she opened her bedside table drawer and pulled out a piece of jewelry. Plutarch had given it to her, many years ago, as a symbol.

As _the_ Symbol.

With a soft smile she put the duplicate Mockingjay pin away, turned off her light, and went to bed.

 _FYI, the dress Effie is wearing is the Vera Wang dress Michelle Obama wore to the Chinese State Dinner earlier this week. She is PERFECTION. Best thing I've ever seen her in, and I worship the ground she walks on._


	47. Of Diners, Crushes, And Envy

**OF DINERS, CRUSHES, AND ENVY**

 **Rated M for language and smut**

Chaff and Haymitch stumbled their way into the diner, laughing uncontrollably. They could feel the stares as they made their way inside, but the two men ignored them.

They were Victors. They were used to the stares.

"Ah! Chaff and Haymitch," exclaimed some Capitol drone. "I'm Yarro Parsnip, the owner of this fine establishment. Just two?"

"See anyone else with us?" Haymitch asked.

"No, Sir," replied Yarro without missing a beat. "Right this way, please." They followed him to a booth and the two men slumped into their seats. "Your menus are on the table. I believe it's safe to assume this is your first time here?"

"Yup. Only 'cause it's the only place bloody open."

Yarro smiled. " _That_ was by design." He cleared his throat. "Now we serve any and everything, but of course our Victor's Menu is to _die_ for." Haymitch and Yarro stared at him. "No pun intended."

"What the hell is a Victor's Menu?" mumbled Chaff.

Yarro reached across the table and grabbed their menus, flipping both menus to the designated page, and then he pointed to what he was talking about. The two Victors stared at their menus, shocked.

"'The Chaff,' read off Haymitch dryly. "The ultimate one-handed burger." Haymitch looked up, attempting to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

"Where the bloody hell is Haymitch on this damn thing?" muttered Chaff.

"Haymitch is our finest drink special," Yarro said. "If you want to keep the party going, that's the drink you order." Chaff didn't even bother to hide it. He burst out laughing at the scowl on Haymitch's face.

"The Chaff goes great with Finnick fries."

"Finnick fries?" asked Haymitch.

"Yes. They're fries in the shape of tridents."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"If I may, can I recommend the—" Yarro paused as the front bell dinged, signaling a new customer. " _Effie Trinket_!"

Chaff burst into laughter again. "Your Escort has an item on the menu?"

Yarro didn't answer. Haymitch looked up and blinked at the expression on Yarro's face. He had a ridiculous smile on his face and his arms outstretched. Haymitch would have looked at what had the man's attention if she hadn't spoken.

"Yarro Parsnip." And there Effie Trinket was, another female behind her, heels clicking, bright smile on her painted face, and pink wig in tow. When she reached him they quickly embraced, Yarro kissing both of her cheeks, and then her hands.

Haymitch felt his heart start to beat a little faster, though he wasn't quite sure why.

"I didn't think it'd be possible, that you could look even lovelier than when I last saw you." The line had Haymitch rolling his eyes, but Effie seemed to buy it.

"You are too kind, Yarro." She was practically purring, and Haymitch found he didn't really like it. He didn't like it one bit. "That was what, four, five years ago?"

"And you haven't aged a day. You look just as beautiful as you did when I first met you my senior year of high school."

"And you haven't changed either. Still quite the charmer, I see."

"Charmer implies I'm saying some smooth line to woo you. I am just being completely honest. My manager tells me he sees you here every now and then."

"I stop by when I have the chance. I never see you though," she pouted, and Haymitch bit the inside of his cheek. She was _flirting_ with him.

"Well you get me now. Let me get you and your friend a seat, and a drink. If I remember correctly you're partial to a spiked Shirley Temple, yes?"

Effie giggled. He didn't know she could do that. "You still know me so well."

"Not as well as I'd like to."

Haymitch scowled, his hands balling into fists underneath the table. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but the thought of plummeting his fist repeatedly into Yarro's face made him quite happy.

"Behave, Yarro," smiled Effie, and Haymitch relaxed a little.

"I'll try my hardest. Would you like to sit with your Mentor, or…?"

"My Mentor?" At that moment Effie turned and met his gaze. He gave her a lazy smile and she narrowed her eyes at him. "There needs to be more after hour diners open," she said coolly.

"Oh come on, Princess. You're not _still_ mad at me, are you?"

"Is there a problem?" Yarro asked. "You say the word, he goes. Victor or not."

Effie started to smile before she saw the look on Haymitch's face. Yarro never even noticed. He was too busy staring at Effie, ready to ask how high as soon as she said jump.

"No," Effie said to Yarro. "He just… no, it's okay."

"You sure? No one messes with my Effie."

 _His_ Effie?

"Thank you, Yarro, that's very… _gallant_ of you, but no, it's fine. We'll sit there."

"Very well." At that moment the bell dinged again, and Yarro excused himself. Effie watched Yarro walk away and then approached the table, her friend behind her. Haymitch sighed dramatically and scooted over and Effie's friend sat next to Chaff. She looked like all the other Capitol dummies walking around: pink wig, bright suit, dramatic makeup, and tall heels. She was probably decent under the cake, but she didn't hold a candle to Effie.

He frowned at that thought, and spoke to keep his mind from wandering. "You gonna introduce us or keep bein' rude?" snarled Haymitch when Effie failed to say anything.

Effie huffed. "Clasenda, that's Chaff, District 11's Victor, and this is—"

"I know who he is," smiled Clasenda. "Of _course_ I know who he is." She gave Haymitch a once-over. "God he's still dreamy."

Effie sighed. "Clasenda—"

"Oh come _on_ Effie, it's _Haymitch Abernathy_." Clasenda giggled and it made Haymitch want to grit his teeth. "We had a thing for you in high school." Haymitch looked at Effie, arching an eyebrow.

Effie groaned. "She's had a lot to drink," blushed Effie without meeting his eye.

"Apparently so have you. Have you forgotten?"

"Clasenda, stop living in the past."

"Living in the past? Effie you have _Haymitch Abernathy_ at your fingertips. _Please_ tell me you've…." Clasenda arched her eyebrow and Effie's mouth sprung open.

"Bathroom. _Now_."

Effie stood up and Clasenda followed suit. "Oh, don't be like that, Effie. You were in love with him in high school."

" _That_ is an exaggeration."

"You had his poster taped to your locker, until Coral stole it. Do you remember how furious you were?" Effie grabbed Clasenda and dragged the girl's to the bathroom.

"See?" said Chaff. "Effie's still in love with you. You can stop thinking of ways to kill Yarro now."

Haymitch started in his seat. "I've no idea what you're talkin' about."

Chaff snorted. "Right."

"You're pissed."

"Outta my mind, and I think I might order the Haymitch."

At that moment Yarro returned. "Two Haymitch's," barked out Haymitch rather rudely, but Yarro didn't seem the least bit offended.

"Of course. Nothing but the best for Effie's Mentor." Haymitch scowled as Yarro walked away, that same stupid grin from earlier still on his face.

"You're jealous," accused Chaff.

"Am not," Haymitch muttered.

Chaff snorted and leaned forward. "I'm your best friend. You can tell me. Have you and Trinket…?" Chaff arched an eyebrow and Haymitch wasn't quick enough to change his face. Bloody drinks. "You _have_. Oh my God."

"I didn't say—"

"You don't have to. It's obvious. Now I know why you always listen to her."

"I don't always listen to her," scowled Haymitch. Chaff stared at him. "I don't. Besides, we just started…. It was… a mistake."

"Is that why she's pissed at you?"

"No. I promised the kids I wouldn't drink but after they scored a 12 tonight…." Haymitch shrugged.

"Aye." Chaff lowered his voice. "You know I've got their backs. We all do." Haymitch nodded and right then Yarro approached with their drinks. He sat down two Haymitch's and two Shirley Temples.

"I'll be right back to take your orders."

Haymitch grunted and Yarro was gone, just as Effie and Clasenda approached.

"So what are you two doing out so late?" asked Chaff.

"Well I figured if Haymitch doesn't care about our Victors, why should I?" Haymitch froze and glared at her, where she defiantly stared back. "Something you'd like to say?"

He felt his body responding, and it shocked him how she could do this to him after _one night_.

"You're pushing your fucking luck, Trinket," he warned her darkly, and she kept her eyes glued to his for a few more moments before finally turning away.

Clasenda whistled. "You know you can seriously cut the sexual tension with a knife. You two should probably just fuck and get it over with."

"I don't do Capitol bitches," snapped out Haymitch, and the lie rolled off of his tongue easily, because he did do her, and he certainly wanted to do her _right now_.

"And I don't do drunk Victors," Effie responded calmly. She sounded sincere, and he immediately vowed that he'd prove her wrong, as soon as they got back to the Penthouse.

At that moment Yarro approached them. "Have you all had time to look over the menu?"

"No, and we don't need to," Haymitch said. "Bring the check."

Yarro scoffed. "You're _Victors_. You don't have to pay. And if you weren't, you're friends of Effie's."

"Friend's a strong word," Haymitch said cheekily and Effie shot him a look. He stared back at her.

"Or too light a word," said Chaff slyly, and both Haymitch and Effie stared at him. He shrugged, grinning.

"Effie, before you go, hold on, okay?"

Effie kept her eyes on Chaff, and then glanced at Haymitch, who took special care to make sure he looked innocent. He wasn't too drunk to know that if she found he told Chaff President Snow himself couldn't hold back Effie's wrath. Then she turned her attention back to Yarro. "Of course."

Clasenda stood up. "He didn't ask me to stay, so I'm going to catch a cab home. I'll see you after the Games?" Effie smiled but didn't answer. Clasenda bid everyone goodnight and sauntered away.

"I should probably get going too. I have Interviews tomorrow." Chaff stood up and stared at Haymitch. "I'll see you tomorrow night." Haymitch nodded and then turned to Effie. "Ms. Trinket."

"You're sure you're okay enough to make it?"

"If I died tonight, the Universe would be doing me a favor."

"Chaff," she whispered.

"Don't, Trinket. Save your tears for Haymitch. I'm a nobody to you, remember that." Effie watched him walk away, frowning.

"Your mask is slipping, Princess." Effie barely spared him a glance. He pulled her to him, and whispered in her ear. "You keep ignoring me like that, I'll make sure all of the Capitol hears you scream my name tonight."

She met his eyes, hers clearly surprised, and stayed absolutely still. He held her a second longer than necessary and then let her go once he heard Yarro approaching.

"Could you sign this?" asked Yarro, thrusting something in Effie's hands. She looked at it and gasped.

"Yarro, what are you doing with this?" she hissed.

"What do you mean? _Everybody_ has a copy. If you don't have a copy you might as well volunteer to go into the Arena and sacrifice yourself."

Effie stiffened. "That is a _horrible_ analogy."

"But you understand how serious this is."

"What is it?" asked Haymitch.

"Nothing," Effie said quickly.

Yarro looked shocked. "It's not nothing. It's Effie's calendar."

"Effie's _what_?"

"Her calendar! They're a collection of all of Effie's best shoots over the years. They announced it after 12 won, and then released it during the Victory Tour. It flew off the shelves. I was first in line, of course." He turned his attention back to Effie. "Can you please sign it?"

"I don't model anymore, Yarro."

"But you could. You _should_. Look at this." He flipped open to the last page and showed them the picture. Haymitch's breath caught in his throat. He snatched the calendar to get a closer look.

She was definitely stunning, but before he could undress her with his eyes Effie snatched the calendar away from him, scowling.

"Put this away, Yarro. I'm not that Effie anymore." Haymitch knew that tone, that hint of finality that meant she was serious, and he realized there was a story there.

"But Effie—"

"No buts. I won't sign it. Now I'll bid you goodnight."

Yarro pouted as Effie turned and walked away.

"I think you hurt your boyfriend's feelings," he told her.

"Yarro is not my boyfriend."

"Ex boyfriend then."

"We never dated."

"Seemed like it."

Effie and Haymitch bickered all the way back to their Penthouse. In the elevator Effie, finally having enough, whirled on him. " _Why_ do you care?" she snapped.

He pinned her to the elevator door, his eyes flashing. "I don't," growled Haymitch.

At that moment the elevator opened. He let her go and made his way inside, Effie hot on his heels.

"You're jealous," she hissed.

"The only thing I am in drunk," lied Haymitch.

"You're a sorry liar. I don't know how you're a Rebel." He could feel it, the anger making its way up his body. She did that to him, every bloody day. He reached his door and barged in, intent on slamming the door in her face, only she pushed him inside and then followed him, slamming the door behind her. He spun around, intent on telling her off. "Shut up and fuck me, Haymitch."

He stared at her. He'd never, in twenty years, heard Effie talk like that, and Jesus Christ it was doing something to him.

He was there in one step, and he picked her up, slamming her against the wall, his lips assaulting hers. She moaned, her hands everywhere.

"Is it true?" he rasped out, tearing at her dress.

"Is what true?" breathed Effie.

"That you've been in love with me since high school?"

"No." She ripped open his shirt, exposing his chest, and then worked her way down to his zipper. "I did think you were cute, though."

"Just cute?" He pushed himself into her and she gasped, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. Her hips responded to his thrust on their own accord, and she whimpered out her first orgasm in a matter of seconds.

She cried out, loudly, and he used one hand to stifle her moans as he sped up. She kept up, her eyes locked with his, until he couldn't take anymore. Panting he gasped out for her to cum, and she did, on demand, and he quickly followed suit.

"That was definitely jealousy sex," said Effie when she could finally speak again. Haymitch snorted. "Mixed with drunk sex. Mixed with horny sex."

"Have you experienced all those with different lovers?"

She hit him. "That's not very proper. But if you wanted to know my count…" She rolled on top of him and he stopped breathing. "Survive this war, come back for me, and find out."

He looked at her, seeing passed her stupid wig and made up face. "I can only do that if you don't kill me first."

She huffed. "I shall not kill you, but only because Katniss and Peeta need you." He grinned and pulled her down to him, already convinced that they were going to sleep right there, on the floor.

"Effie?"

"Hm?"

"Can you get me a copy of that calendar of yours?"

"I take it back. I might kill you after all."

 _I realize this is kind of similar to Pleased (Chapter 10) but I think it's its own story. It could be a prelude to it, since this takes place the night before the Interviews and Pleased takes place the day of them. The facts are still the same it's just… different._

 _ANYWAY, for whatever reason I'm obsessed with Effie as a model right now, so I keep trying to write a story about her having a Calendar, only it never turns out that way LOL. I keep HINTING at this calendar, but can't seem to write about it._

 _In my head this story was supposed to be about Yarro asking Effie to sign the calendar in front of Haymitch and Chaff, and they see the Calendar and tease her and Haymitch notices how over the years Effie doesn't look as happy BUT I CAN'T FREAKING DO THAT STORY RIGHT NOW APPARENTLY LOL. It's supposed to be a piece about how Haymitch realizes that he should have known she'd be on their side, and understanding how/why she quit modeling because the Games make her unhappy but… the story won't form. Blah. I'll keep trying. Hope you enjoyed this for what it ended up being._


	48. Hard Pill to Swallow

_My own prompt._

 **HARD PILL TO SWALLOW**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch looked around his room, scowling. His eyes picked up everything: last night's jacket on the floor, two pairs of his shoes, a pair of sweats next to the bed, his undershirt near the window, one of Effie's heels near the closet, the other by the bathroom door, her dress folded neatly across the back of his desk chair.

"You _sure_ you saw it go in the house?" asked Haymitch.

"I know I did," Katniss said. "Peeta? Any luck?"

"Nope," called the boy from downstairs, and with a growl Haymitch stomped towards his bathroom, looking in there, Katniss behind him. Again, his eyes picked out everything without really ever seeing it: shaving cream he never used, a half empty bottle of perfume—he'd have to buy Effie some more soon, he noted—a pair of earrings on the sink. The shower curtain was open, revealing a bright pink loofa and cherry-blossom scented soap and shampoo.

No hint of what it was they were looking for.

He heard Peeta clomping up the stairs and made his way back towards his bedroom.

"You need to fix your fence, Haymitch," said Katniss.

"No shit, Sweetheart." He sighed heavily. "I'm _so_ cooking that fucking goose tonight. _Whenever_ I find him. Come on, let's go back downstairs." He started to make his way downstairs, Peeta behind him, when Katniss' voice rang out.

"Why is all of Effie's stuff in your room?"

Haymitch stilled for several moments before slowly turning around. Peeta had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply.

"Because she lives here," Haymitch finally answered.

"But she has her own room. Down the hall." Katniss' face appeared at the top of the stairs, and Haymitch knew that the girl was genuinely clueless. "So why's all her stuff in your room?"

"For the same reason all your stuff is at Peeta's house," Haymitch snapped, and that had Katniss gaping.

"Katniss, drop it," said Peeta. He hadn't even needed to look at her to know that she was about to start arguing with Haymitch.

"I'm not dropping anything," Katniss said. "He's taking advantage of her. She's fragile, not really in her right mind—"

"You think I'm taking advantage of her?" The minute he asked the question Katniss realized she was wrong. He wasn't angry. Or upset. There was disbelief in his voice, sure, but something else, too.

Hurt.

"You think I'd stoop that low?" And now the rage could be heard in his voice.

"Haymitch, it's Katniss," Peeta said, his voice holding a plea, as if that should have explained everything.

Which it did.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Katniss, staring at Peeta darkly.

"It means you hurt people with your inability to see the obvious," snapped back Peeta, and his tone had Katniss going silent.

"Get out," Haymitch said once Katniss started to retort. Katniss looked at him. " _Now_!" Before he did something stupid, like wring her fucking neck.

"Come on, Katniss," Peeta sighed, grabbing her by the elbow.

"Why are you taking his side?" asked Katniss as they made their way downstairs. "Haymitch hates Effie."

"No he doesn't," Peeta spat out. "And Effie's been in love with Haymitch for longer than we've been alive, probably."

 _That_ wasn't true, Haymitch said as he walked back up the stairs. She probably never hated him like he had hated her. But there was definitely a mutual dislike for several years. Who knows when it changed for her? All he knew was that it had changed for him the minute he realized Effie Trinket genuinely gave a flying fuck about him and those kids.

Of course she had to be taken and tortured for him to realize he was in love with her, and it took all of three seconds for him to realize he was still madly in love with her, despite what he tried to tell himself, when she showed up on his doorstep out of the blue two years after the war.

He looked around his bedroom, taking in all of Effie's things. She certainly had a lot of her things in his room now. Over the months they had sort of accumulated. One night she left her heels in his room. Then it was a pair of leggings. Her socks.

One morning he'd walked into the bathroom and her toothbrush was next to his.

She hadn't used the guest bedroom in months.

He hadn't even noticed. It just seemed natural. They were adults, damn it. She never asked to stay in his room, and he'd never invited her. She was just there one night.

And after a few weeks, if they slept together, so fucking what. It was natural. They were adults.

But had she _really_ wanted to? She'd had a nightmare one night, and she'd been so distraught that kissing her seemed like the only thing that'd calm her down. It was their first kiss, and it opened up years of confusion and doubt. They just wanted answers, so they responded with their bodies.

He thought he'd gotten those answers.

They slept together a lot. Almost like teenagers. They couldn't stay off of each other. It was _fun_ , especially after a heated argument, not to mention a bloody distraction.

She was similar to alcohol in that way, the way she could distract him, and make him forget, and if he had enough of her, he slept peacefully through the night, for the most part.

And so did she.

"Haymitch? I'm back," she called, and he felt the way his heartbeat sped up. She did that to him. Made him feel like things like love and happy ever after and fairytales were real. And even though he knew they weren't, he could pretend while she was around.

After all he'd been through he was allowed to fucking pretend.

He made his way downstairs. She was unpacking the few ingredients she had gotten from the store.

Delly had gone with her, because he refused to let her go by herself.

It wasn't _that_ long after the war, after all.

"I thought we could have pasta tonight. Peeta's gotten really good at making white sauce and—"

"I'm not going," he interrupted, and she turned and looked at him.

"What's wrong?"

"I've decided I hate Katniss."

Effie rolled her eyes and sighed, going back to unpacking the groceries. "What happened now?"

"Nothin'. Jus' know I ain't goin'."

"Okay, Haymitch." She thought she'd change his mind, but she wouldn't. He scowled at her back and made his way back upstairs, dropping on his bed moodily.

He didn't even know why Katniss' words bothered him.

About an hour later Effie walked in, leaning against the doorframe. She stared at him for a few minutes and then took of her shoes and crawled onto the bed, practically laying on top of him.

"Are you really going to lay up here and pout?"

"Yup."

She sighed and looked at him. "Do you really expect me to think for one second you're taking advantage of me?" He stiffened but stayed silent. "It's Katniss for heaven's sake."

"Why is that supposed to make it okay?"

"Oh stop being so dramatic and go make up with her. It's ridiculous how much alike you two are. Do you know she's in her bed, looking as miserable as you? She's quite sorry, you know. I think Peeta gave her a stern talking to." Haymitch still stayed silent. "Come to dinner, Haymitch. You don't hate the girl. You two couldn't hate each other if you tried, and you certainly have over the years."

Haymitch frowned.

Before he could say anything there was a soft knock on the door.

" _What_?" growled Haymitch, and he rolled his eyes when he saw Katniss.

"I found your goose," she said softly.

"Cook it," was his response.

Effie slapped his arm. He opened his mouth in shock until he saw the look on her face. He sighed.

"Come in, Katniss. I'll leave you two alone." Haymitch watched her leave, staring at her disappearing figure long after it was gone.

"I'm sorry okay?" Katniss blurted out after several moments of silence. "It's just… you're not exactly the easiest person to understand. You're mean, and cranky, and a pain in the ass, not to mention—"

"I'm sorry, was there supposed to be an apology somewhere in there?" snarled Haymitch.

Katniss sighed. "Effie's been through a lot, okay? She's not like us. She needs butterflies and unicorns and rainbows and—"

"You don't really know Effie very well, Sweetheart," he interrupted. "Not at all, really. Let's just say I'm right and you're wrong, okay?"

Katniss stared at Haymitch, and then looked around the room, glancing at all of Effie's things. "Okay," she finally said. "Dinner's in about an hour."

Haymitch stared at her, stared at the girl he'd known for several years now, who he'd helped keep alive, fought for, fought against, fought _with_ …. She was as stubborn as he was, and constantly gave him a run for his money.

But she was his Victor, and he was her Mentor, and if he wanted to be technical they were probably a lot more than that to teach other. "I'll be there," he said, and that seemed to satisfy her. She gave him a slight nod and she was gone.

They'd been through a lot together. All of them had. They could hurt each other, and realizing that was a hard pill to swallow.

But they could also heal each other.

And that wasn't as hard a pill to swallow.


	49. Stay With Me

_Title/song is, of course, the brilliant Sam Smith's Stay with Me._

 **STAY WITH ME**

 **Rated T**

 _Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand_

 _But I still need love 'cause I'm just a man_

 _These nights never seem to go to plan_

 _I don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand?_

The first time he slipped inside of her had been in the heat of the moment. They were arguing, both of them drunker than they should have been, words were exchanged, insults hurled, and then she slapped him.

He'd grabbed her, mostly in shock, when she'd raised her hand to slap him again, and then she was pinned against the wall.

How it went from slapping to angry kisses and lifted skirts and unbuckled pants he'll never know.

Afterwards she pushed him away. She didn't look angry. Nor did she look hurt. She just smoothed down her skirt, while he stood there, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

"Not bad," she had said, walking towards the door. "Not bad at all for an insufferable drunk. It'll never happen again, of course. Not even in your dreams, Haymitch." The warning was quite clear: keep his mouth shut.

But he couldn't help but think she wasn't so bad either, for a Capitol bitch.

And he couldn't understand the small, minute sense of loneliness he felt when he went to bed that night.

 _Oh, won't you stay with me?_

 _'Cause you're all I need_

 _This ain't love, it's clear to see_

 _But darling, stay with me_

So much for a one night stand.

It happened again. A couple of years later. The tenth year anniversary of his Games. Another drunken night, but without the fight.

They thought there was no way it'd ever happen again, because after the first time he was crueler and meaner, and nastier, and it hurt more than she cared to admit, until he'd screamed that he hated her.

He'd meant it.

There was nothing more than a quiet disdain radiating from her after that, and then his anniversary came up, and there they were, in the Penthouse, highlights of his Games flashing across the screen out of nowhere, and she'd turned the television off so fast that Haymitch that thought he'd gone blind with rage.

And then the bottle of wine was across the room, and he turned to find Effie grabbing another bottle. He barely ducked in time for it to miss him.

That still wasn't as shocking as seeing the anger in her eyes, and when the third bottle flew through the air, this time smashing against the wall, he walked up to her, intent on shaking some sense into her, only it didn't exactly turn out that way.

Afterwards, their bodies flushed with sweat, sticking to the couch, Haymitch buried his face in her neck.

"Tell them I made the mess. They'll believe that," Haymitch said.

He pretended not to feel it, the soft caress on his back, because acknowledging it was disaster in the making. This wasn't love, or a fairytale, and it never would be. No happily ever after for the Escort and the Mentor.

After a minute she shifted, and he took that as his cue. He sat up and they got dressed, never looking at each other.

When she walked out, he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking her to stay.

 _Why am I so emotional?_

 _No, it's not a good look, gain some self-control_

 _And deep down I know this never works_

 _But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt_

There was really no turning back after that night. Not when he swallowed his pride and made his way to her room. She seemed so eager, so ready for him, and if he thought about it for too long all of these feelings and emotions started swimming their way around his mind.

He thought being away from her for a year would help his self-control, except as the years passed, he found himself anxious for Reaping Day. And how fucking sick was that, to actually be waiting for Reaping Day, just so he could get his rocks off and feel alive by the very bitch who controlled death.

That's why it'd never work. And those days he saw her looking at him, with _that_ look, he always made sure he was extra cruel.

Aside from the days when he was too drunk, and he held her close. Those nights he could make believe, like they lived in a world where who they are and what they felt was okay.

He was hurting her, he knew it, but he couldn't fucking stop.

He was hurting himself, too though.

Some days he didn't know what numbed the pain more, his best bottle of whiskey, or Effie.

 _Oh, won't you stay with me?_

 _'Cause you're all I need_

 _This ain't love, it's clear to see_

 _But darling, stay with me_

They'd never work. Of course they wouldn't. Not with so many years of confusion and bitterness and mistrust. But when she showed up on his doorstep, who was he to turn her away? Not him, the one that had gotten her taken in the first place.

They weren't themselves around each other. He didn't know how to act, afraid to be cruel, but too used to being anything but kind. They wanted to comfort each other, heal each other, but how, when they were disaster in the making, and always had been?

Would probably always would be too.

Which is why when she packed her bags one day he wasn't surprised. What did surprise him was how much the thought of being without her scared him, so as she approached the door, arm outstretched to turn the knob, he blurted out the words he'd wanted to say to her for fifteen years.

"Stay with me."

She stopped, slowly turned, and stared at him. They had a silent argument without ever opening their mouths.

She dropped her bag, sighing.

They'd probably kill each other.

But damn it, she was staying, and that's really all that mattered.

 _SOOOOOOO I've decided to another Ash story, and figuring it's October, I thought I'd write a story where 12 celebrates their first Halloween. So with that said… I really want to dress up Haymitch as something utterly ridiculous because Ash is his son and he's spoiled rotten blah, blah, blah, so I need ideas/suggestions for what hilarious costumes you want to see Haymitch in. I'm taking ideas for the next few days, so please leave your suggestions in a REVIEW. I was thinking like Peter Pan or something really embarrassing that Haymitch doesn't want to do, but he can't tell Ash or Effie no? Looking forward to your ideas!_

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_


	50. Unselfish

**UNSELFISH**

 **Rated M**

There were several occasions that made Effie realize that Haymitch could win an Oscar or two. She had seen it, casually, over the years, picking up on the tiniest details. She grew to know him, so by the time she saw the Mentor who cunningly got them two Victors, she wasn't even all that surprised.

She _knew_ him.

As hard as he tried, Haymitch wasn't a bad person. He could be kind, he could be honest, brutally honest, really, and he could be human.

He was so much more than the drunkard bastard he often pretended to be. He pretended to be a lot of things, a lot of the time: unaware, carefree, rude, cruel, and selfish.

He was none of those things, really, especially selfish.

She had figured out the rest by herself, but if he had ever proven anything to her, it was that he was anything but selfish.

 **XxXxXx**

The first time she realized he wasn't selfish was during her fifth year as Escort. The 60th Hunger Games. The ten-year anniversary of his Victory. She'd already been much less composed than usual. They had been airing his Games all week, nonstop, as if picking children's names and sentencing them to their death's (which she had learned is what her job _really_ was in year one, when she picked Neem and Allio only to watch them die within three seconds of the Games starting) wasn't tormenting enough. Now, this year, she got to watch her Mentor kill eight people and barely survive his Quarter Quell.

It changed you, seeing someone you know, someone you work with, go through that.

No wonder the contract she signed made it clear Escorts should not get attached.

By the time the Games had started she was sick to her stomach, so it was no surprise that when their Tributes were killed that she ran to the kitchen sink and emptied out her stomach—not that there was anything to empty. She hadn't been able to keep anything down all week.

Effie could feel Haymitch looking at her, but she didn't care. He'd made it quite clear at that point he wouldn't pity her, and she wouldn't want his pity. Maybe his understanding, his empathy, but after seeing his Games, she got it. She understood.

She was surprised, though, when she made her way back towards him, intent on passing him to go to her room, when he outstretched his arm and handed her a glass.

She stared at him for a moment before taking it.

"Does it ever get easier?" she whispered.

He didn't meet her eyes, and Effie thought he wouldn't answer, until he said, "No," very quietly, very surely.

She learned he wasn't a liar, either.

From that moment on they always shared a glass together when their Tributes died.

 **XxXxXx**

The second time she realized Haymitch wasn't selfish had been at one of the Capitol's many gatherings. Haymitch was hardly ever present, but for some reason he had come to her room earlier that night, dressed impeccably, asking her if she could tie his tie.

When she was finished he asked, "Are you almost ready? I don't wanna be late."

She blinked at him. "Who _are_ you?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Never mind. I'll just see you there."

Effie had turned to her vanity mirror, overlooking herself. "No, I'm ready," she said, smoothing out a crease in her skirt. They made their way to the party, and quickly went their separate ways.

She wasn't sure where he had gone, but she quickly forgot his entire existence once Coral Axelwood came up to her. Normally it wasn't a problem. She knew how to handle Coral. They had been enemies for years now, and Effie normally saw her coming. Who could ever miss Coral? It's when Effie was caught off guard, like now, that Coral could get under skin.

Coral was taunting Effie, and Effie found herself quite annoyed. No one could quite get under her skin like Coral, and it didn't take long before they were causing a scene.

"At least _I_ have a respectable Mentor," hissed out Coral, and Effie stilled.

"Coral," Effie warned her former best friend, "you can say what you want about me. But do _not_ insult my Mentor. Ever."

Coral's eyes widened, and then she smiled darkly. "Don't tell me you're _defending_ that drunk?" Coral fixed her hazel eyes on Effie. "Are you screwing him? I bet you are. You always had a thing for Haymitch, ever since we were kids."

Effie blanched and backed up. "That is a horrible thing to say."

"What? It's true. You're a whore, Effie."

Before Effie could defend herself against the lie Haymitch was there. He tapped Coral on her shoulder and she spun around, her eyes surprised.

"Say what the fuck you want about me, but no one calls my Escort out of her name." He grabbed Effie and brought her to the dance floor, where he pulled her into him. "Are you calm?" he asked.

Calm? No, not exactly, not when he was holding her like this, and dancing so well.

"You're surprised," and his eyes were twinkling.

"I just thought you'd be passed out drunk by now, is all. And who knew you were light on your feet?"

"I had an Escort once, years ago. Bloody hated her."

"You? That's hard to believe."

"I don't hate you," he smiled, and she arched an eyebrow. "Okay, I don't hate you all the time."

"It doesn't count when you're asleep."

Haymitch laughed—she was pretty sure it was his first laugh around her—and Effie was just starting to relax when some orange haired man approached her.

"May I dance with Ms. Trinket?" asked the man.

"Of course," Haymitch said in his fake Capitol accent that had Effie frowning—that was certainly rude—on the outside, but biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

As Haymitch stalked off she wished he were a little more selfish, and kept her to himself.

 **XxXxXx**

The final time Effie realized Haymitch wasn't selfish was when he _finally_ pinned her against the kitchen counter, and _this_ kiss was different than the other ones. They'd been kissing for years by now, to stop the insults, because sometimes the words they said to each other were just too much.

The kisses were never discussed; even when they found themselves starting arguments on purpose just so they could feel the thrill of their lips on each other.

 _This_ fight hadn't been purposeful, though. They literally were having one of the worst ones to date. She'd already slapped him twice, and that second time something ignited inside of him, so by the third time she lifted her hand he grabbed her and pinned her against the kitchen counter— _why_ they were fighting in the kitchen was beyond them—and his lips crashed into hers.

She moaned almost immediately, proving what he already suspected: that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. Neither of them knew when it had come to this, they just knew it _would_ come to this, at some point.

He entered her roughly, slamming her down onto the counter, and he was rough and relentless, and ruthless and _rude_ , but she _took_ it, and she _liked_ it.

He liked that she liked it.

Even as he hated her.

She watched him with heavily lidded eyes as he pounded into her, and somehow she snaked her hands underneath his shirt, digging those long nails into his back, making sounds he hadn't heard a woman make in years.

He let her finish before emptying himself into her, grunting out his pleasure with a string of curses.

She hated herself afterwards, mainly because she'd been more than satisfied.

And no matter how often they argued, how much they fought, he never changed. He let her finish, and when her whimpers started to change to whispers of his name, and when he started grunting out her name instead of curses, they still never discussed it.

There was nothing to discuss.

But she tucked these little clues away as the years passed, until she understood that underneath the hardened exterior was a complicated man who was afraid to get hurt again.

He'd lost everyone once, and sometimes it was easier to shut people out than risk hurting again.

But she knew him.

She knew his real smile from his fake one. She knew that when he was being especially cruel it was because he remembered how much he cared about her, and the drink wasn't doing its of job of making him forget. She knew that when he made fun of her and hurt her feelings in front of others he'd make up for it when they were alone and he came to her room.

And as time passed, and Haymitch would watch Effie dancing with some random Capitol man at a random Capitol party, he'd started coming up to them and interrupting.

He wasn't very good at sharing, he'd told her one night while he was inside of her, and he wasn't exactly being gentle. She knew why. Tonight a man had tried to kiss her, and Haymitch hadn't taken it lightly.

But Effie disagreed.

He was very unselfish, her Haymitch.

What he was, was possessive.

That she didn't mind, in the least.


	51. If It Happened to You

_I know sometimes I have Effie with Seneca, and other times I don't. It's fan fic, and remember that unless stated, these stories aren't related. I can change my mind depending on my mood LOL._

 **IF IT HAPPENED TO YOU**

 **Rated K**

"So… you and Seneca?" Haymitch leaned against her door, trying to hide his frown.

Effie stared at him in her vanity mirror and rolled her eyes. "Maybe in his dreams, but certainly not in real life."

Haymitch walked inside her room, closing her door, ignoring the fact that suddenly his heart was beating properly again. "You seemed awfully upset about his death at dinner."

He was fishing for something, but he didn't know what.

Effie turned around and faced him. "We grew up together, Haymitch. He was a friend. He was a few years older than me—probably around your age, I think—and I've known him for about as long as I've known you." His stomach dropped, and he wondered if he ate something funny at dinner. "So yes, I was upset. That's a long time to know somebody and not be upset. But I was _more_ upset at the fact that both of our Tributes are _insane_. I can't say I'm all that surprised about Katniss. But Peeta?"

"I know," Haymitch said, stepping closer to her. "I'm about to head down to Chaff's now to do some damage control. I just wanted to…." What did he want? To figure out who Seneca was to her?

"I know what you wanted, Haymitch," sighed Effie, and if anyone did know it was her. He hoped she would tell him. She walked up to him, and he was shocked when his breath caught in his throat. "You're supposed to stay alive."

He blinked at her, understanding making its way throughout his veins.

"What would you do?" he whispered, because he needed to know. He had to know.

"Don't _talk_ like that, Haymitch! People are dying out there, and I'll be damned…." Effie's voice trailed off and she looked away from him. He surprised himself by grabbing her, pulling her towards him.

"What am I to you?"

"Everything," she breathed. "If something happened to you… if it happened to you…." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'd _lose_ it, Haymitch, so _please_ change the bloody subject."

He couldn't understand why he was so satisfied, why he felt so relieved. It was all so confusing. He could understand wicked schemes, he could lie through his teeth without blinking, he could lead an entire Revolution, but this feeling… these feelings she was making him feel, he couldn't fathom.

His body seemed to know what to do, even as his brain didn't. He pulled her to him.

"You better be alive after all this is said and done," she told him, looking him in the eye. "It can't happen to you."

He couldn't promise it wouldn't, because he wasn't in the habit of lying to her. But he could try his damnest. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and left to go talk to Chaff, Finnick, Johanna, Beetee, and Cinna.

They had a lot to discuss, particularly how they were going to pull this off and come out alive.

He had been told it couldn't happen to him, and as always, he followed her orders.


	52. All That Different

_We could use a little fluff, don't you think? Hopefully this will suffice. Jealous Haymitch is SERIOUSLY like my favorite to write. Enjoy!_

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **ALL THAT DIFFERENT**

 **Rated T**

Effie, blushing furiously, directed the man to Katniss and Peeta's. If she were to go to Haymitch's, he would pitch a fit, and she didn't need him panicking and fussing.

"This will do, honestly. I promise I'm okay."

"Absolutely not. I want to make sure you're not just saying that," the man said. "Should I knock?"

"No," sighed Effie. "Just walk in."

At the sight of Effie being carried inside the house by a strange man, Katniss and Peeta immediately panicked.

"Oh my God, Effie," Katniss cried.

" _Effie_?"

 _Crap_. Figured Haymitch would be here. Great. Just great.

"Don't panic," said Effie immediately. "I'm fine. Raphe was just making sure I got home okay."

She looked at each of them. Katniss looked concerned. Peeta looked worried. And Haymitch looked… she wasn't sure how he looked. She didn't recognize the look on Haymitch's face. Or maybe she did. She thought she remembered it from the nights he saw her dancing with other men, but she couldn't be sure.

"What happened?" Haymitch asked, approaching her, though his step faltered as he watched Raphe gently put her down and walk her towards the couch.

"It's nothing, seriously."

"It's not nothing," Raphe said.

"It was silly. I'm more embarrassed than anything, really."

"Effie," She heard it, the underlying panic in his voice, even as he tried to remain calm. It was the tone he used demanding that she better start talking, and soon, before he lost it.

"I was grocery shopping, as you know, and I was about to check out when I remembered that we needed new flowers for the coffee table since the old ones are dying. It's stupid, really, but I wasn't paying attention. Normally I do, but today I was… distracted. I was thinking about lunch, and what we'd have for dinner—"

"Effie," Haymitch warned again.

"I walked right passed them, and it hit me, out of nowhere. The scent of white roses. It took me back to another time, another place, and I… I mean I'm fine, now, but before…."

"She fainted," the mysterious man said, and Haymitch's heart lurched.

"I _promise_ I'm fine," she told them all, but she was looking at Haymitch. "Fortunately Raphe was there to catch me."

She looked at him and Haymitch narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the way she was looking ah him.

Or the way he reached out and touched her cheek.

"So the market's selling white roses?" asked Katniss.

"Yes." Effie turned to them. "They've been there for a while now."

"I won't have it," said Katniss coldly.

"Katniss—" started Peeta, and she shot him a look. "I'm going with you."

"No. I don't need you freaking out on me in there."

"Then I'm at least going into Town with you," and he used that tone that they all knew meant he couldn't be argued with.

"Fine. Let me grab my bow so I can head to the woods after." She and Peeta made their way upstairs and Effie turned back to Raphe.

"Honestly, however can I thank you?"

He grabbed her hand and her smile faltered a little. Haymitch scowled. That was the second time he'd touched her. He didn't need to touch her. "You could take me up on my offer and have dinner with me. It doesn't have to be tonight. You should get some rest, anyway. But maybe in a few days? How about this weekend?"

Haymitch held his breath, silently counting to ten to get rid of the many thoughts on how many ways he could kill this bastard.

Effie hesitated, and really, he didn't care if she had or hadn't. He would have interrupted regardless. "She can't. She's busy."

The man didn't even spare Haymitch a glance. "I don't think I was talking to you, boy."

Haymitch's defenses immediately went up, and Effie stared at him, her eyes pleading. His hands were itching for contact so he balled them up.

"Well I'm talking to you," Haymitch said darkly.

The man looked at him then, standing up, and Haymitch wondered if the man thought his height was supposed to intimidate him. "And I'm talking to Effie. If I want to know where I can find the nearest liquor bottle, then I'll be talking to you."

Effie was up in a minute. "Raphe, that's enough," she said.

"No. He doesn't own you anymore. You're no longer his Escort."

Effie glared at him. "He is still a Victor and you _will_ show him respect."

"I don't have to show him anything. Isn't that what he fought for? So that we were all _equal_. As if I could _ever_ stoop so low."

"I can be your worst nightmare," Haymitch said, his voice lethal. "I really could. So I suggest you turn around and walk away before I do somethin' I regret."

"What the bloody hell is it to you, anyway?"

"Everything," he snapped back before he could think about it.

Raphe arched an eyebrow and Haymitch snarled and made his way towards Raphe, and Effie immediately turned around, her hands on his chest. "Haymitch." He barely heard her. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ear. "You need to go."

 _That_ he heard loud and clear. He stilled, staring at Effie, a scowl on his face, but he knew his eyes gave him away.

Betrayal.

Effie stared at him. "Not _you_." She turned her head towards Raphe, keeping her hands firmly placed on Haymitch's chest. " _You_. Raphe. Get _out_."

"So you're choosing the drunk over me?"

Effie spun around and slapped Raphe so fast the only reason Haymitch knew she had done it was because the sound echoed throughout the house. "On his worst day Haymitch is ten times the man you are. Get out _now_."

The look Raphe gave Effie had Haymitch on full alert, and he'd barely grabbed Effie to put her behind him when Raphe glanced up, his eyes widening in fear. Haymitch, his hand still on Effie, glanced behind him.

Katniss stood there, her bow aimed at Raphe, her face dark.

"Katniss," Peeta said softly.

"I don't like the way he's looking at Effie," said Katniss.

"Nor do I." Peeta, always the voice of reason, stepped up. "You've got three Victors here who will defend the people they love by any means necessary."

"Not to mention a pretty, petite little thing that can slap the shit outta you," added in Haymitch.

"You don't _really_ want to be on the receiving end of that, do you?" Peeta finished. Raphe seemed to quickly realize he was out numbered. Without so much as a backwards glance he left, slamming the door behind him.

Effie gasped as soon as he was gone, and nearly immediately started shaking.

"Effie?" asked Peeta, stepping towards her.

"No. Don't." Effie closed her eyes, willing herself to get under control.

"Effie." He was using _that_ voice, that voice that let her know he'd always be there for her, and it always calmed her down. This time was no different. "Let's go home," suggested Haymitch, gently grabbing her hand. She didn't stiffen but she was still taking large gaps.

"We'll come check on her when we get back," Katniss said, and Haymitch nodded. The two of them walked home, Haymitch glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Inside Effie whirled on him. "What _happened_?" she hissed.

He tensed. "You're mad at me?"

"Yes I am, Haymitch! Raphe was… he… He was…"

Haymitch stared at her, his eyes wide. "You _liked_ him?"

"I…" She scrunched up her face and then sighed. "A little, yes." Haymitch just stared. "He was always nice to me."

"Well if _that's_ all it takes," snapped Haymitch, walking towards the kitchen.

"Haymitch I want to know what's wrong with you. You acted like…"

"Like what? A jerk? An asshole?" He opened the cupboard, searching for the liquor he knew no longer existed, but a bloke could hope, couldn't he? "Like a barbarian? Like I could have slit his throat with my knife?" Effie kept quiet. "If you liked him why didn't you just say so?"

"He insulted you Haymitch, and _no one_ gets to insult my Victor."

Haymitch spun around. "You are _not_ my bloody Escort anymore, Effie!" Raphe had been right about that.

"So should I not take your side anymore? Should I not defend you? Stay loyal to you?"

"Are you loyal? Are you really? Because if you were you wouldn't like him."

Effie blinked, the pain in her chest slackening. "You're jealous."

Haymitch opened his mouth and then shut it. Then he turned back around, opening and closing cabinets again, refusing to acknowledge what she said.

"Stop looking for liquor, you haven't drank in over a year." Her voice was cold. "Why are you jealous, Haymitch?"

Haymitch stilled. Why _was_ he jealous? Maybe because all it took was one hug for him to realize he still loved her. One kiss to realize he was still _in_ love with her. One night for him to realize he was a complete goner.

"We don't…" continued Effie, her voice trailing. "I mean once, a while ago, but after that we haven't…. I mean you don't even…." Haymitch turned around and just stared at her, and finally she huffed, scowling. "You can interrupt anytime, you know." He just arched an eyebrow. "Do you care about me or not?"

"What the bloody hell do you think? Why else would you be here?"

"Because you feel sorry for me," she said quietly, and he stopped breathing. "Because you feel bad for leaving me and for me being taken, and the people from the Seam always feel like they have to pay back a debt, even though I don't know how many times I have to tell you it's not your fault, but you're stubborn, and you don't listen, you _never_ listen."

"Shut up," said Haymitch coldly, walking up to her, his face set. "Do you really believe that's why you're here?"

"Of course not. It's just what I think you tell yourself because you're too stupid to admit aloud that you're in love with me."

Haymitch stopped directly in front of her, almost at a loss for words. She could be so ridiculous sometimes. "I'm not the only stupid one here, Princess," Haymitch finally said, cupping her cheeks.

"Why didn't you _say_ anything? I'd never have even looked at Raphe."

Haymitch dropped his hands. "The last time we…." His eyes darkened. "You were gone, Effie. For a whole day."

Effie blinked at him. "I can't control when I slip away, Haymitch. Surely you didn't think I had an episode because of _that_."

"I was rough."

"You were always rough. I've never complained."

"No, just left reality all day," he snapped out. "And then you didn't sleep with me again. You didn't even stay in my room. What was I supposed to think?"

"You didn't _ask_ , Haymitch."

"I've never had to."

"We've never lived together before," snapped back Effie. "And speaking of never asking, _you_ could have came to _me_. You certainly never had a problem doing so on the train all those years ago."

He sighed. "Things are little different now, don't you think?"

"Not really," Effie scoffed. "I'm still hopelessly in love with you." He felt his heart start to loosen a little. "Isn't that one of the things we fought for? To be able to live in a society where it was okay to love each other? But you can't expect a girl to wait forever. It's rude—"

He kissed her and she relaxed in his arms. "Still kissing me to shut me up, I see."

He smirked at her. "Guess things aren't all that different after all, Princess."

 _Good_ , she thought. She didn't want it any other way.


	53. A Day at the Fair

_The fair's in town, and of course I went, and I thought I'd have a fluffy one-shot about the fair coming to town. Enjoy another fluff piece. Warning: it's corny LOL._

 **A DAY AT THE FAIR**

 **Rated K**

"So what is it again?" asked Katniss for what had to be the thousandth time.

"It's the District Fair," Effie sighed. "It's sort of like a Carnival. They go to each District and everyone gets to go to play games and ride rides and eat really bad food."

"Bad food?" asked Haymitch. "Like worse than your cooking bad?"

Effie narrowed her eyes at Haymitch and he smiled sheepishly. "I mean like corn dogs and funnel cakes and fried ice cream and—"

"How do you fry ice cream?" Haymitch interrupted.

"If I knew that, do you think you could talk about my cooking?"

"Good point," snorted Haymitch. Effie pouted and Haymitch laughed, wrapping his arms around her as they headed towards Town.

It was a beautiful fall day, the air crisp and cool. The leaves were changing, the nights longer. It was Effie's favorite season, barely edging out the beauty of winter. If it didn't stay winter for so long it might have edged out fall. Fall always reminded Effie of boots and hot chocolate and oversized sweaters and reading by the fireplace.

And the fair.

The season that always meant the fair.

"I hear the fair's a good way to bring money to the Districts," Katniss said, looking at Haymitch.

He shrugged. "That's what Paylor said."

"She also said a lot of people would be traveling here to attend our fair."

"Yes. So keep your eyes and ears open, but have fun. You shouldn't have anything to worry about. Paylor would have never allowed the fair here if she wasn't sure."

He didn't need to tell them—any of them—that security was increased. His men knew how to blend in, and he had plenty of them that were undercover, and several who would boldly display their Mockingjay pins on their breast.

And he didn't tell any of them that for the first time since Effie had been sleeping in his bed, he had his knife unlocked and in his back.

He wasn't expecting trouble.

But just in case…. He'd be damned if anything happened to the people he loved.

It'd been a few years, but he suspected he could still defend those he cared about well enough.

There was a line to get in the fair, but at the sight of the four of them, they were waved in.

Victors don't pay.

Some things never change.

"What should we do first?" asked Katniss looking around.

"Anything. We could go on a few rides before we eat."

Haymitch glanced around at some of the rides: some twirled, some spun, some shot into the air. He winced. "Nix on the ride business."

"Thank God," Effie breathed. "I hate rides."

"Food then?" asked Peeta.

"Yes."

"Where should we start?"

"Anywhere. I want everything."

So they had everything: funnel cakes with ice cream, fried chocolate, wild turkey legs, fried greens, corn dogs, and tacos. Katniss and Peeta seemed to be in awe. Haymitch was grumbling the entire time until he got a cup of beer. And Effie was content the minute she had a donut.

"You there! Boy! Win your pretty girlfriend a stuffed animal, eh?" The old man smiled at Peeta and Peeta glanced at Katniss. She shrugged her shoulders and Haymitch smirked when Peeta walked up to the 'Test Your Strength!' game.

Peeta grabbed the hammer and swung it down on the puck. It came as no surprise when the puck hit the top, its light flashing. The owner of the game stared in awe.

"You don't look that strong," he said, his eyes suspicious.

"Never underestimate bags of flours," responded Peeta. He turned to Katniss. "What do you want?"

Katniss looked at the array of options. She definitely wasn't the stuffed animal type, and she had a hard time picking one. In the end she picked out a deer.

"I won't be offended if you give it away," Peeta told her.

"Don't be ridiculous," huffed Katniss.

"Haymitch—"

"I'm not winning you a stuffed deer, Princess, so don't ask," Haymitch interrupted.

Effie rolled her eyes. "I don't even like deer, and that's not what I was going to say. Can we ride the Ferris wheel?"

"The what?"

Effie pointed and Haymitch gaped, his head following the height of the Ferris wheel. He gulped. There weren't a lot of things he was afraid of, but he was pretty sure he would _not_ be getting on the Ferris wheel.

When Haymitch stepped on the Ferris wheel, a scowl on his face, Effie wrapped her arms around him. They were by themselves. Katniss and Peeta had decided to get on their own cart.

"It'll be fine, I promise," she whispered. "It's romantic. And you know how romance… gets me in the mood." Her hand traveled down his leg and he stiffened.

Maybe this ride wouldn't be so bad.

"Holy _shit_ ," he yelled when they were at the top, his heart in his throat..

Effie laughed, looking over the edge. Haymitch gasped and pulled Effie close to him. She gasped and looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Haymitch, relax," said Effie calmly. "We're protected. We're fine." Haymitch let her go and sat rigid when it stopped at the top.

"I want _off_ this bloody thing."

Effie slid on top of him and kissed him until he started breathing properly again. And then his heart stopped beating as her kiss intensified. He moaned, his tongue in her mouth. He deepened the kiss, pulling her into him. He slid his hands down her back and gripped her hips.

He forgot where he was until the attendant cleared her throat.

Effie gasped while Haymitch blinked, trying to remember what the hell was going on.

"Aren't you two a little old to be making out on the Ferris wheel?" she asked, and Effie blushed while Haymitch smirked.

"Guess not," he shrugged, and together they walked off the Ferris wheel, Peeta and Katniss both arching an eyebrow.

Haymitch and Effie ignored them both, and the four of them headed home.

"Who'd have known you were afraid of heights?" whispered Effie.

Haymitch scowled. "You keep talking like that, I won't finish what we started on the Ferris wheel."

Effie laughed and grabbed his hand.

"All in all," Haymitch said so that they could all hear him. "I say it was a… _fair_ day."

They all looked at him. Katniss bit her lip, Peeta bit the inside of his cheek, and Effie pinched the bridge of her nose. Then they all burst out laughing at the same time.

"That was _really_ bad, Haymitch," Peeta said, wiping his eyes. "Even for you."

But as corny as it was, and even though they laughed the rest of the way home, his words were nearly true.

It wasn't just a fair day.

It was a great day.


	54. Pin-Up Girl

_This is correlated to A Night in the Capitol (Chap 39). This was my first attempt at a Calendar story, and it failed, once again, miserably. You don't have to read chapter 39 to understand it._

 **PIN-UP GIRL**

 **Rated K**

Effie walked into Haymitch's room, bright and early, closing the door behind her. He was fresh out the shower and getting ready for the day, his hair damp, and dripping little water droplets onto his bare back.

"You came just in time. I was two minutes away from finding the Peacekeeper that made you go home last night and demanding he tell me what happened to you."

"I'm fine," Effie told Haymitch. "Will Cinna be?"

His eyes locked with hers, but he didn't answer. Instead he made his way to his closet to grab a shirt.

"Care to knock next time? I coulda been naked," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing I haven't seen before," said Effie, and he stared at her, noticing the book in her hand.

"I known I've gotten pretty bloody drunk over the past twenty years, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember if we'd slept together or not."

She sighed. "Only in your dreams. But I can't tell you how many times I've had to clean you up. I tried leaving you in the shower one year but the guilt ate at me, so I rescued you."

He blinked, trying to figure out if she were joking or not, and if he was turned on or distraught that Effie had seen him naked.

"How do I know you didn't take advantage of me?"

She smiled. "Darling, it is _you_ who has tried to take advantage of me. I don't know what it is about men and their inability to not touch a woman when she's soaking wet—even if she's clothed."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed to slits. "Why didn't you ever just call an Avox?"

"Honestly, haven't they been punished enough?" He scowled at her and she laughed, approaching him. "Believe it or not, I've actually come in peace."

"Yah right, and pigs can fly." He stalked away from her, heading towards the bar. "What do ya want, Trinket?"

"Don't call me that. It doesn't have the same affect as when Chaff says it."

"Oh, is your surname reserved just for him now?"

"Yes, just like Princess is reserved for you." That had him turning around, and his breath caught in his throat as he realized she was so close. He hadn't heard her approach him. "Speaking of Chaff, I remember something from the other night when we went to Last Season's."

Haymitch stilled, wondering what she remembered. She hadn't remembered much about that night, but she did realize something had changed between them since. He wouldn't tell her why.

"I do remember Chaff and Seeder mentioning how I was a Pin-Up Girl once, and I found some of the old pictures. I thought you might want to see them."

His mouth went dry. This was the last thing he had expected.

"Why?"

Effie looked at him. "So maybe, years from now, you'll finally be able to see me as something else other than a bloody Escort."

She handed him the book she had been holding and he realized it wasn't a book, but a calendar. Effie was on the front, hardly looking any different.

"You look the same," he told her.

"I'm pretty sure that's the first compliment you've ever paid me."

Haymitch ignored her and sat down, opening to the first month.

He forgot how to breathe.

He'd never thought a Capitol was beautiful before, but… she _was_. There was nothing he could do about it. She was staring him in the face, the picture doing all sorts of things to his body that he hadn't experienced in _years_ , and he was determined to close the calendar and never look at another picture again, only she sat down next to him.

"I was the only model to have had posed for this magazine twice. It was unheard of. They only wanted the best, the brightest, and every year it was someone different. Not to mention minors never posed for magazines. We worked the runways until we were old enough. But I had a _look_ apparently, so they let me pose with Saffrin Oceanblossom. She was my idol, and she was retiring that year, and she sort of… passed the torch to me, if you will. Then when I turned eighteen I got to be on it again. It was their last year for the contest. Two weeks after this was published I got the call that I was an Escort." She paused for several moments. "Most of the time I don't know if this shoot was a blessing or a curse," she said softly.

She'd never really gone into her background before. Why would she have? He certainly had never asked. They flirted every now and then, but they took special care not to cross any kind of line.

This felt very much like crossing that line.

He gulped, turning to the next picture.

He went through each one, noticing they were all tasteful. Classy even.

But it was definitely an adult magazine.

She never once showed a lot of skin, but her attire still left little the imagination.

And those poses…. Some with her back arched, or her legs crossed, her skirt running up her thigh. Or she'd be turned sideways, a high slit exposing her long legs. She'd lean forward, blowing the cameraman a kiss, but her shirt would be unbuttoned.

It pushed the limits, but tastefully.

It seemed totally and utterly like Effie.

"They called me you know," she said softly after he'd flipped through them all. "After we won. They said they wanted to do a reunion piece. It was the first time I'd gotten an offer to model in fifteen years."

"Did you do it?"

"No," sighed Effie. "How could I? How could I smile when every time I close my eyes I see Rue?"

He jerked next to her. "Effie you can't talk like that," he sad harshly.

She stood up and walked next to his nightstand. "Do you really think I don't know that Beetee designed this to make sure no one could hear me?" Haymitch froze. "Do you think I haven't noticed how much time you, Johanna, Finnick, and Chaff have been spending together? How you aren't passed out drunk at the thought of Chaff going back in the Arena?" She stooped down. "How Finnick is wearing the bracelet I got you?"

She ran her fingers along his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat sped up at the contact.

"I know you better than you think, Haymitch. The clueless Escort you think I am doesn't exist. That Pin-Up Girl is more the real Effie than the Escort Effie." She palmed his cheeks, staring into his eyes. "Save them. Do whatever you have to. No risk is too great. She's our Mockingjay." His eyes widened, and he was about to speak when she kissed him.

His lips responded on their own accord, even though his brain was shocked stupid.

"Stay alive," she breathed, standing. "I don't know when you're leaving, but I know you are. Protect them, and don't die. The Games start in an hour. I expect you ready."

And since he always listened to her, he made sure he was ready.

And that he stayed alive.

He never told her that he packed the calendar with him, and took it to 13.


	55. The Unexpected Guest

_Hey Loves! This is my own prompt, but I'm running out of ideas, so if anyone has anymore ideas, PLEASE don't be afraid to leave them in a Review! I'd hate for this story to end because I'm having idea block (instead of writer's block) LOL. I don't care how trivial, how little, how whatever it seems: REQUEST IT. Also, I said that I'd also take movie versions and not just book versions. I haven't seen any requests about Haymitch and Effie in 13…. I've tried writing a few prompts but can't seem to get in the groove, so maybe with your help I can start yah? Thanks guys!_

 **THE UNEXPECTED GUEST**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch sat in his rocking chair, enjoying the quiet of the day. Fall was coming, he noted. The air was a little bit cooler, a pleasant breeze ruffling his hair. He'd never been one to think about things like seasons. There were four of them, and they changed on their own accord. But as he sat there, on his porch, the breeze a pleasant change of pace, he realized that he was partial to fall. It wasn't as hot as summer, and it definitely wasn't as cold as winter.

Effie came out, two glasses of homemade lemonade in her hand. She wasn't a cook by any means, but she always had a knack for mixing drinks. She had this fruit punch mix she always made during the summer… it almost made the heat worth it.

Effie sat down on the other rocking chair after sitting the glasses down on the table in between them. He immediately grabbed his drink and took a large gulp. Just as good as he remembered.

"Fall's in the air," Effie breathed softly.

He glanced at her. "We've been together too long, Princess. We're starting to think alike."

Effie smiled. "Thirty years _is_ a long time. Next thing you know we'll start reading before bed instead of having sex."

Effie stared at him, her eyes glittering, because if there was anything they didn't have to worry about, it was sex. Twenty years of built up frustration was finally coming to a head, and they were trying their best to make up for lost time.

"And going to bed at eight just to wake up before dawn," snorted Haymitch.

Effie laughed at their foolishness, but it was short lived.

Haymitch froze and Effie stiffened.

A single Mockingjay, flying overhead, belting out the familiar four-note tune.

The tune he hadn't had to hear in ten years.

His blood froze as he stood. Effie was up in a second.

A man walked through the Gates of Victor's Village. Haymitch would have been on alert even without the signal. Everything about him was wrong. He had on 12's clothing, but his walk was wrong, his demeanor was wrong, his hair and eye color was wrong.

Peeta and Katniss' door swung open, and Katniss was there, her bow in hand. Peeta had a knife nearly identical to the ones he used in the Games. The three of them looked at each other, all of them reading the other.

"Haymitch, he has a gun," Effie whispered, and it nearly surprised him, how trained her eyes were now.

War did that to you.

As the man walked closer to them the first, third, fourth, sixth, and eighth houses all had men exiting out them, guns drawn, all of them pointing at the stranger. Katniss had her bow up, her eyes low, ready to let it fly if she needed to.

Haymitch saw the way Effie stiffened and immediately turned to her, reaching for his knife—one of them.

"Go inside, Effie." She looked at him, clearly shocked. "Now."

"Haymitch, if you think—"

"Shut up," he snapped, intentionally putting her out of the stranger's line of sight by standing in front of her. "Take this knife. Go inside and head to the basement. Go to the bookshelf and move the fifth book on the third shelf. It'll open a secret passageway that's connected to Katniss and Peeta's." He was talking fast, his eyes dark and alert. "Don't fucking _argue_ , Effie. Go. _Now_."

He pushed her inside, slamming the door, and turned back to the stranger. He was standing still now, a quiet look of disdain on his face, his hands in the air. Haymitch couldn't hear what the first Agent was saying, but he saw the man and his Agent arguing back and forth. After several moments the man handed over his gun. Another Agent, his gun still trained on the stranger, came up behind him and started patting him down. At one point an Agent dug into his pocket and grabbed a wallet. The Agent flipped through it and after a few more minutes he handed the wallet back, nodded his head, and the rest of the Agents lowered their weapons.

Katniss kept her bow trained on the intruder, her bow following him, even as he followed the Agent.

Haymitch, his eyes taking in everything about this unknown person, met his Agent at the top of his steps.

"This is Colard Osage," his Agent said. "He's here in regards to Effie."

Haymitch felt his heart drop to his stomach. "What the hell about?" asked Haymitch coldly.

His Agent looked from the man back to Haymitch. "I think we should go inside."

Haymitch took a deep breath, staring between the two. "I want you, the boy, and the girl with me." His Agent nodded. Haymitch jerked his head and he saw Katniss and Peeta immediately head his way, Katniss' bow never leaving its position. They all went inside. Haymitch turned to Katniss. "Watch him like a hawk. Peeta, with me."

Peeta looked back at Katniss.

"I'm fine," said Katniss, her back to him.

"That's Agent Greenlocke," Haymitch assured Peeta. "He's the best man I've got. Katniss will be fine. Let's go." Peeta followed Haymitch down to the basement. "You good?"

"I'm not helpless," snapped Peeta.

Haymitch glanced at Peeta, and stopped the boy to face him. "I'm not saying you're incapable, Peeta. Long gone are the days I chose Katniss over you. I've seen what you're capable all. I don't think you're weak. I just need you in your right mind. I don't know who the hell this bastard is."

"I'm fine," said Peeta shortly.

Haymitch stared at him, realizing that the boy was.

"Good. Now I need your help to calm down Effie. She's gonna be royally pissed at me."

That was an understatement of the year. But Peeta blamed Haymitch. He handled it all wrong. They found Effie halfway down the tunnel.

"Haymitch!" Effie breathed. "Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine." He grabbed her none too gently. "Next time I fucking tell you to get in the house and do something, you do what I say without arguing."

Effie blinked at him for all of three seconds, and Peeta closed his eyes. Effie wrestled out of his grip. "Don't _talk_ to me like that," she hissed. "I'm not a damsel in distress. I don't like being treated as if I'm incapable."

"I don't really care what you want. If I'm going to keep you safe and alive, you're gonna have to do what I say."

Effie stilled, glared at Haymitch, and then pushed _him_ against the wall, which Peeta thought was quite impressive. "I don't have to do anything until you realize I'm not the same woman that was kidnapped and tortured in a cell."

Haymitch took a deep breath, scowling, when Peeta finally took pity on them both and placed a gentle hand on Effie. "Haymitch just wants to protect you, Effie. He loves you, and he just wants you safe. Most of the time he goes about it the wrong way—" Peeta stared pointedly at Haymitch and Haymitch narrowed his eyes—"but he means well. You know Haymitch. He's overprotective."

Effie stared at Peeta and stepped away from Haymitch. She straightened her dress, taking a deep breath.

"I don't like the thought of being the only one _saved_. That's what you thought last time, that I was safer in the Capitol, only that's not exactly how it happened, is it?" Her voice was cold and she didn't immediately meet Haymitch's eyes. When she did they were cold. "You don't get to make decisions for me, Haymitch. That's not what I signed up for. I'm not stupid. I'm quick on my feet. I'm a fast thinker. And I've got great aim. I've always known this bookshelf led to Katniss and Peeta's. Just like I know there are several guns strategically placed hidden in these walls. I'm not a fool, Haymitch."

With those words she handed him his knife and headed back towards the house, Haymitch following her after blinking back his surprise.

Upstairs Katniss still had her bow trained on Colard. Agent Greenlocke and Colard were sitting at the table. Peeta immediately stood next to Katniss, Agent Greenlocke standing at their entrance. Haymitch held out his arm, stopping Effie, and he walked up to the table, grabbed the chair across from Colard, turned it around so that its back was facing the table, and sat down. He placed the point of his life down harshly into his table so that the handle was sticking up and would be easy to grab.

Colard didn't seem at all bothered at Haymitch's hostile manner. He was looking at Effie, staring at her from head to toe.

"You look different that your pictures," said Colard, and Haymitch had to bite back his anger and fear.

"Start talking," he said gruffly.

"My name is Colard Osage," said the man.

"No shit. Where are you from?"

"Originally? District 3. I've resided in the Capitol for the past seven years, though."

"What do you want with my wife?"

Haymitch's back went up, and his hands itched for his knife. This man was trained. He was surprised at the news that he and Effie were married, but he knew how to mask his surprise. The only reason Haymitch knew Colard was surprised was because he was educated in the matter of looking for tale-tale signs.

"I was hired by two individuals who wanted to know Effie's whereabouts."

This time Haymitch snatched his knife. He reached across the table in a flash, pulling Colard to him, his knife at his throat.

"Haymitch!" He barely heard Effie as he snarled at Colard.

"You keep talking but the words don't mean shit. _Say something meaningful_. Your _life_ depends on it."

"Effie's parents hired me to track her down. I'm a Private Detective."

 _That_ had Haymitch letting the man go, and backing up. He stared at the man for several moments, and then slowly turned to Effie.

She looked stunned. Genuinely, truly stunned.

With a wave of his hand Katniss finally lowered her bow, though her eyes never left Colard's.

"They reported you missing," continued Colard. "They said they haven't heard from you in several years. They were concerned, claiming the war wasn't kind to you. They told me about your background, in being an Escort, and they were concerned that—"

"That the Rebels might have done something to me," finished Effie coldly. Colard had the nerve to look sheepish. "You tell my parents that I'm _fine_. They shouldn't worry about me." She walked up to Haymitch, grabbing his hand. "I'm in good hands."

"Euphemia, your parents love you—"

"And I love them. But I don't particularly _like_ them. The Rebels didn't kidnap me, you know. That was the Capitol who tortured me in that cell. You can tell them that, too. Go back home, Colard. Go home and tell my parents that you found me, and that I'm happier than ever."

"Euphemia—"

"If that's all, Colard. You've cost my family and I enough trouble."

Effie turned and walked away, heading towards the living room.

Haymitch held out his hand to Colard, who stared at him, confused. "Give me the fucking pictures you took."

Colard sighed. "I have to show them _something_ to let them know that she's alive." Haymitch just held out his hand. Colard reached into his coat pocket and took out a manila envelope. Haymitch flipped through them. There weren't a lot of pictures. The only ones that he had all took place in one day, when they had gone into town to buy groceries.

The pictures were taken with a professional camera. It was obvious they hadn't been followed, but that these pictures had been taken from far away, yet they were still clear.

There was one where Haymitch was whispering in her ear and Effie was laughing. He was telling her what he planned to do to her when they got back home. The next picture had Haymitch smiling, Effie whispering in _his_ ear. Effie had been whispering what _she'd_ do to _him_.

The last one was of them outside of Peeta's bakery. She was eating a donut and he was just watching her. She hadn't known he was there yet, but he was just watching her, struck at how beautiful she still was.

Haymitch grabbed that picture and thrust it towards Colard. "Take this one to her family. She's alive. She's happy. If she wants to make contact with them, then she will. If I ever see your face around here again, I might kill you. If _they_ ever see your face again"—Haymitch pointed to his Agent—"You're going to jail." Haymitch, the folder still in his hand, walked towards his door, where he opened it.

"I'll make sure he heads to the train station and gets on said train," said Agent Greenlocke. Haymitch nodded, and the two of them left.

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch all looked at Effie.

"I guess I'll ask the million dollar question," Peeta said. Effie held her breath. " _Euphemia_?"

Katniss snorted while Peeta laughed. Effie flushed and looked away, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Get out, both of you," said Effie, still trying not to smile.

The two of them laughed all the way home.

Haymitch walked up to her and pulled her close, breathing her in.

"I'm sorry I got so protective."

"I'm sorry I got so defensive," replied Effie, pulling him in close. "Are you going to ask?"

"No." Haymitch kissed the top of her head. "You'll tell me what you want, when you want." He pulled her even closer, his lips on her neck. "God I was so scared. I was so fucking scared."

He _was_ scared. He was shaking.

She pushed him away. "I'm sorry," whispered Effie.

"It's not your fault. Well… not totally. I just hope this isn't a chain reaction. Could you imagine your parents coming up here uninvited?"

"God no," Effie said, mortified.

"Right? We really don't need anymore unexpected guests."

"I could do just fine without them myself," smiled Effie.


	56. Wicked Games

_Thought I'd change things around for once and have Haymitch into Effie. The Weeknd's Wicked Games is the inspiration. Not a song fic. Not fluff._

 _Listen ma I'll give you all I got_

 _Get me off of this_

 _I need confidence in myself_

 _Listen ma I'll give you all of me_

 _Give me all of it_

 _I need all of it to myself_

 _So tell me you love me_

 _Only for tonight_

 _Only for one night_

 _Even though you don't love me_

 _Just tell me you love me_

 _I'll give you what I need_

 _I'll give you all of me_

 _Even though you don't love me_

 **WICKED GAMES**

 **Rated M**

Her breathing was heavy; her gasps gentle as she pulled him in closer. Her legs were smooth as they clung to his waist, her body soft in all the right places. Her quiet purr had him speeding up, and he listened attentively for that high-pitched whimper that told him that she was close to the edge.

He gave her all of him, waiting for that whimper, and hated wondering if anyone else made her whimper like that, or if he was the only one that made her cum multiple times.

When she moaned his name he refrained from looking at her. It was the best sound in the world, though it hadn't always been. Once upon a time, a long time ago, this was just release. It was pent up frustration and anger and hatred, and a big fuck you to the Capitol.

He was in complete control, and he could deny her at any time. _He_ decided which fights would lead to making up. _He_ would decide which surfaces were hard enough to slam her down on. He would take her against the window, or against the wall, or against the door. Sometimes in the shower, or on top of the sink, or bent over a chair.

And then it all changed.

She got _engaged_ , and she had told them that they had to stop, in his own house no less, an hour before the Reaping, and he'd been furious, and he recognized the bout of possessiveness in his soul, but he didn't understand it. He didn't get why he'd felt betrayed, as if she belonged to him, because she didn't, and honestly he had no right to be upset.

Yet he'd taken her, right there on top of his table, and demanded to know if _he_ could make her feel this this good. She'd answered with a string of no's, until the pleasure overtook her and all she could say was a mixture of yeses and his name, repeatedly, over and over and over again.

There were a bunch of yeses on his lips too, until she asked him if he loved her.

No, he had told her, and she'd searched his eyes, hoping that they'd betray him.

They didn't.

She broke it off with whoever he was, and they kept at it. Years passed. She never got engaged again, as far as he knew. She never got married. They continued on, though, as five, ten, fifteen years passed. Fifteen years of doing the same thing, over and over, and over again.

Except the feelings had changed.

He wasn't sure when.

But he knew how. It was in the way he gave himself to her, night after night. The way he didn't immediately run out of her room after they were finished. The way he started caressing her and grunting her name when he came.

She'd grown cold and distant, though, and if she noticed a change in him, she never acknowledged it. He'd learned to stop slipping his arm around her after they were done, because she'd just slip it off of her, get dressed, and leave his room. Or if they were in her room she'd immediately turn over, away from him.

He'd missed his chance, he realized, yet he couldn't stay away.

And then they'd won last year, and she slipped up. They'd been so relieved, and excited, not to mention exhausted, because during the last couple of days they refused to sleep, so when Claudius had stated that their Tributes would be Victors, he'd kissed her, and she'd kissed him back.

They couldn't stay off of each other after that.

It was the same thing during the Victory Tour. He took her to bed every single night, especially every time he saw her dancing with someone else. He never liked that, and sometimes he'd pull her away, sneak her onto the train, and push himself into her until she screamed his name even before the banquet was over. They'd redress and return to the party, faces flushed, strained smiles on their faces.

They weren't truly relieved until the night, when he didn't have to be as quick.

He even snuck her away during the kid's photo shoot, taking her against his front door.

It was a sick, twisted, wicked game they were playing, one where there were no rules, except one: don't fall for each other.

They'd broken that rule, but at different times.

Because despite their kiss on the day of their Victory, she didn't love him.

Even now, as she slid on top of him, riding him, naked as the day she was born, moaning his name, he knew she didn't love him. They were in his bed, for the first time ever, and she was crying out, the orgasm taking over. He watched her and quickly followed suit, and the pleasure of it all had her folding on top of him, her breasts against his chest, her arms around his neck.

She only loved him when they were doing this, and even then it was probably pretend.

Afterwards she was nothing more than a Capitol Escort again.

Which she proved, when she pulled out his name from the little glass bowl on the day of the Reaping.

 _Eh a small part of me doesn't really like this, because I don't think Haymitch would have resented Effie for calling his name in the Quarter Quell, particularly since he knew Peeta would volunteer for him, but I know I'm being nitpicky. It is what it is LOL._


	57. First Day of School

_This is from a guest: "Love your stories so much! and I had the thought that jabberjays represent the capitol and mockingbirds represent the districts, together they create the mockingjay. Maybe you could write one where haymitch and Effie have a secret lovechild during the games but they know that he/she who like katniss is also symbol of rebellion against snow, but unity for capitols and district citizens. Thanks!"_

 _Then another guest (or maybe the same one, who can tell LOL) asked for this:  
"Awwww I love Ash! Can you write about Ash first day of school and Haymitch is all emotional and doesn't want him to go?"_

 _I already have a story where Haymitch and Effie have a secret love child (Welcome Home and Baby Blues) but the school part… GENIUS. Love, love, love, LOVE! And an emotional Haymitch? LIFE!_

 _FYI, yes, I can/will combine prompts if they're similar enough._

 **FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL**

 **Rated K-ish. Little more than K, a little less than T. K+ maybe?**

The boy in itself was rebellion personified.

He was a Mockingjay long before Katniss ever was.

He should have never been created. Not between the Escort and the Mentor. Who'd ever heard of such a thing?

But Haymitch had always done what he wanted, with who he wanted, when he wanted. Not that he ever meant to do anything with Effie Trinket of all people, but he had, and there he was.

Their Mockingjay.

And it was time for him to spread his wings and fly.

He was going off to school today.

For the past school year he had been home schooled since he had come to 12 in the middle of the year. He was extremely bright, and a paternal pride Haymitch hadn't known had even existed inside of him burst through his chest every time his son's teacher told him and Effie how smart the boy was.

"He could probably skip a grade in all honesty," Mrs. Gallowflake had told them at the end of the school year.

"I'm so glad he got my brains," said Effie, and Haymitch had snorted. Anyone who spent five minutes with the boy knew that he was too smart for his own good. He was highly resourceful—too resourceful, and Effie blamed Haymitch every time the boy was able to argue his way out of something.

Haymitch thought he'd be excited about this day. His boy was off to school. He and Effie had decided that they'd allow him to skip first grade and head off to second. They wanted the boy to be challenged, not act out due to boredom.

And as Haymitch's child, the boy would _definitely_ act out.

But now that the day was here, Haymitch felt this unfamiliar sense of dread.

The boy wouldn't be in his presence for several hours.

How could he protect the boy if he wasn't around?

He woke up that day early, a nightmare fresh in his mind, gasping for air. Effie was there—Effie was _always_ there—and then she was on top of him, calming him down in the way that only she could, and he couldn't understand why he was so nervous, why he had this feeling in the pit of his stomach, until Effie slid off of him, muttering about being late to wake up their son.

And then it hit him.

School.

He knew he was being irrational, but that didn't make it any easier.

Effie was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, trying to find what she was going to wear so that she could hop in the shower. He watched her for a few minutes.

"Let me get him ready," Haymitch said, and she stopped. He got out of bed, slipping on his boxers and a pair of sweats. She didn't take her eyes off of him, even as he made his way out of the room.

He walked down the hall and into his son's room. His breath caught in his throat. He slept just like his mother did, curled up, one arm tucked under his head.

Haymitch sat on his son's bed, staring at him for a moment. He was pretty bloody convinced there wasn't a more handsome child in all of Panem. His black hair was darker than night, his eyes bluer than the sky.

Much like his mother, the boy could sense Haymitch's presence. It didn't take long for him to stir awake.

His son smiled at him and was in his arms before Haymitch could blink.

Haymitch made up his mind. His boy would not be going to school. Nope. Definitely not.

"He needs to get ready, Haymitch," Effie said softly at the door, dressed in her robe, and Haymitch scowled at her.

"Mommy!" the little boy said, and he was out of Haymitch's arms and running towards his mother. Effie bent down and kissed her son on the nose.

"You have the most adorable nose," said Effie, like she always did.

"It's Grandma's nose!"

"Yes it is."

Their son did have his grandmother's nose. His _paternal_ grandmother's nose. Every time Haymitch looked at it he saw his own mother. He had never thought she'd come back to him, but here she was, right on his son's face.

"You ready for school?" asked Effie.

"He's not going," Haymitch said, and Effie frowned while their son turned around.

"But Dad, school's _fun_. I always learn a lot."

"You can learn a lot right here."

"Why don't you go brush your teeth and let me talk to your father?" Effie asked. Their son quickly headed to his bathroom. "Close the door." He pouted but did as he was told. Effie walked up to Haymitch.

"Not in the mood for a lecture," said Haymitch coolly.

Effie bent down and placed her lips on his.

 _God_ she knew him.

"He has to go, Haymitch. He'll be fine. I promise."

"You can't promise things like that," he snapped.

"Can you just trust me?" He scowled. At that moment their son came out the bathroom. "Go ahead and get dressed. Afterwards meet us downstairs so you can have breakfast."

Effie held out her hand and Haymitch grabbed it. Downstairs he whirled on her.

"He's not going, and that's final."

At that moment their front door opened. Katniss and Peeta walked in, a fresh plate of toast in her hand. She put it down on the table.

"Thank you," Effie said. "Good morning."

"Morning," said Katniss and Peeta.

"What's so good about it?" Haymitch mumbled. Katniss arched an eyebrow. "What?" he snapped.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," commented Peeta. Peeta arched an eyebrow at Effie, who nodded.

"What are you two doin' here? Shouldn't you be at the bakery? And shouldn't _you_ be out hunting?"

"We wouldn't miss sending our nephew off to school," Peeta said. "We're walking him with you."

Haymitch's scowl softened. "Are you?"

"Of course," said Katniss. "Plus Peeta wants to see my classroom."

Haymitch blinked at her. "Your… classroom?"

"Yah. I'm teaching music this year."

Haymitch felt the fear in his heart loosen a little. "Since when?"

Katniss shrugged. "I guess since May, after I interviewed for it. And my class is right next door to the little Mockingjay, so I'll be able to keep an eye on him."

Haymitch took a deep breath. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Effie said we should use it as leverage in case you had a mental breakdown at the thought of him going to school."

Effie gave him a smile but before he could return it the phone rang. Effie went to answer it. "Haymitch, it's Annie."

"I know how you feel," said Annie. "Finn started school last week. Johanna had to come down to calm me down. It won't be as bad as you think. Use this time to enjoy Effie."

"Did Effie tell you to say this?"

"Of course not. But we're Victors, and we have kids…. I know the fear. Finn loves school. Your kid will too."

Haymitch hung up with Annie right when their son made their way downstairs. He jumped into Peeta's arms and blushed at Katniss.

They were all pretty sure the boy had a crush on her.

They ate their toast and then made their way towards Town. Effie slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed it. "I'm okay," he whispered. He looked at her, pulling her close. "Thanks, Princess."

At the school gates they all stopped. "I want you to go with Aunt Katniss and behave yourself, okay?" said Effie. He nodded. "Give Mommy a hug." He gave her a big hug, and then it was Haymitch's turn.

"Behave yourself," Haymitch said, crouching down so that he was eyelevel. "Make Mommy and Daddy proud."

"I will. Bye, Daddy!"

Haymitch swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't good at goodbyes. He wasn't telling his son goodbye. He threw his toddler arms around his father and headed off with Katniss.

"See you later, Ash," Haymitch finally said, and the little boy turned around, a bright smile on his face, and waved.

Effie made it all the way back to Victor's Village before she burst into tears.

"I'll make her some warm tea," Peeta said, and Haymitch nodded, grateful.

He didn't think he could handle her right now.

When Effie finally came back home, she found Haymitch in Ash's room, on his bed. She crawled in next to him. "We're ridiculous. Both of us."

"That we are, Princess."

Effie placed a gentle kiss on his neck, and then his lips, and suddenly Haymitch wasn't thinking of Ash anymore.

She stared at him, her eyes going dark. He remembered Annie's words about spending time with Effie. They hadn't had a lot of time for _that_ , though they did what they could when they could.

"Wanna fool around?" grinned Haymitch.

"You never really were romantic," Effie said dryly. She stood up, sighing, and then looked at him. "Last one to the room has to undress the other."

She made it to the door before Haymitch grabbed her, spun her around, and jetted out the door.

"That was _rude_ ," she yelled.

Haymitch laughed. "I'm a Victor, Princess. I win, point blank and the period."

He'd certainly pay for his cheek.

Afterwards she curled into him, breathing deeply.

"This school thing isn't so bad after all," Haymitch concluded.

"All in all, not a bad first day," agreed Effie.


	58. Love Again

_This song is Tamia's 'Love and I.' Short and sweet._

 **LOVE AGAIN**

 **Rated T**

 _Love has not been_

 _That great of a friend to me, lately._

 _Over and over, again and again_

 _Love has proved that she is my enemy, my enemy_

She wasn't sure what they were. They had definitely hated each other at one point during their time together, but it had slowly started to change as the years progressed. She wasn't sure when it had changed for him, she just knew that it had changed.

At some point.

And then… life happened.

Or… better yet, more accurately, death happened.

And betrayal.

He left.

And she was taken.

She wasn't sure why she was surprised.

Love was a thing for fools, and Effie Trinket swore she'd never be a fool.

Love had always hurt her.

Love was not a friend.

 _Repeating thoughts_

 _Of the pain that it's caused._

 _And the tears that I've cried is probably why..._

She was humiliated when they came.

They were rescued.

The Victors.

Johanna, Annie, and Peeta.

She and Portia were left to fend for themselves.

He had left her again.

She knew the Victors were safe when the guards came into Portia's cell.

The stylist's screams would plague Effie for the rest of her life.

Portia never came back.

Effie thought for sure it'd be her turn next, but they left her alone. It was proof, undeniable proof that Snow himself knew that she had no leverage over Haymitch.

She, like love, was nothing.

She gave up on him that night.

 _Love and I are breaking up tonight._

 _Love will go it's way then I'm sure to find my..._

 _Love, goodbye, but can you leave a trail behind_

 _Because I know myself and I will change my mind_

 _And want to love again_

When he finally did come for her, it was too late.

The damage was done.

She was too heartbroken to care that he spent every waking moment by her side. He even neglected Katniss.

It made no difference. He'd chosen her over Effie too many times.

Somewhere, beneath all the hurt and pain, physical and emotional, she knew she was being unreasonable.

It didn't stop her.

When he asked her to play Escort again, it was the final straw. When it was all over, she told him goodbye.

She ripped up the letter she wrote to him six months later.

 _I really wish we were made to be_

 _Happy with our love in our life._

 _To know that I have total control_

 _Over being happy, happy_

When Plutarch and Paylor broke into her house, exclaiming she'd missed work for three days, she was only mildly surprised.

She did this, sometimes.

Zoned out.

She wasn't always back in that cell, though most of the time she was.

Sometimes she remembered her time with Haymitch.

She didn't know which scenario was more torturous.

When Paylor handed her a bus ticket that would take her anywhere she wanted, she ripped it up. Where she wanted to be, she couldn't go.

She _wouldn't_ go.

She told herself it wasn't a mistake.

She wasn't happy.

But love didn't want her happy.

 _But reality is..._

 _I cannot live without love_

 _But I will try tonight_

When the dreams started turning from those nights in the cell to Haymitch, she knew she'd made a mistake.

She should have gone back with him.

She shouldn't have ripped up that ticket.

They could have worked it out, as crazy as it was, as crazy as _they_ were… they could have worked on it. After all, they had proven that together, when they tried really hard, they created hope.

She desperately needed hope.

Yet she hung up before the phone in 12 could start ringing.

It'd been a year.

She was sure she was too late.

Haymitch wouldn't wait.

 _Ohhh, love and I are breaking up tonight._

 _Love will go it's way and I'm sure to find my..._

 _Love, goodbye, but can you leave a trail behind_

 _Because I know myself and I will change my mind_

 _And want to love again_

She lost track of how many times she packed and unpacked during the past year. Eventually she just kept the bag packed. She hoped by eliminating the time it took to pack she would no longer talk herself out of not going.

She couldn't keep doing this.

She _loved_ him damn it.

She didn't know what was different about the particular day that she finally left. It was just _time_. She grabbed her bag, wore a simple dress, and was gone.

When she arrived, Haymitch looked shocked for all of two seconds, before stepping aside and letting her in.

 _Love and I are breaking up tonight._

 _Love will go it's way and I'm sure to find my..._

 _Love, goodbye, but can you leave a trail behind_

 _Because I know I'll change my mind_

 _And want to love again_


	59. Who Is Effie Trinket

_This won't match up with my other Pin-Up Girl story, because I like to play around with my own stories in my head LOL. FYI the show 'Who Is' is sort of like Being, or Unsung, or the 'Fabulous Life O'f or 'Behind the Music.' In my head it's basically a documentary on a certain celebrity, hosted by Caesar and Claudius, and other celebrities talk about who they think a certain celebrity is. Sorry if that sounds confusing, you'll understand as you read LOL. Peep the cameo of the Calendar mentioned. Yes, this too was another attempt at a calendar story SMH. I'm about to give up._

 **WHO IS EFFIE TRINKET**

 **Rated K**

Cinna, Portia, Haymitch, and Effie all sat in the living room on the train, exhausted and wishing they, like the children, could be asleep.

"Well if Snow doesn't believe their story, we need to view the footage of tonight," Effie said logically.

"You're right," agreed Cinna. "We need to see how much coaching she needs."

"And you're the best one for the job," Effie commented. "She listens to you."

"She listens to Haymitch, too," pointed out Portia.

"She _understands_ Haymitch. She doesn't always listen to him. We need someone who can coach her without her knowing she's being coached."

"Effie's right," Haymitch said.

Cinna smiled. "Isn't she always?"

"Pretty much," smiled Effie. She grabbed the remote and turned on the television, turning the volume up enough to drown out the radio. She turned it to the Capitol station, which was still playing snippets of the reunion. They all watched as their Tributes ran and kissed each other, falling in the snow.

"That's it," Effie declared, "I'm hiring an acting coach for Katniss." Haymitch snorted, sipping his drink. The fact that he wasn't royally pissed amazed her.

She was about to reach for the remote to turn off the television when Caesar Flickerman spoke.

"If I may, just for a moment, take our attention away from this year's Victors…. Can I just talk about Effie Trinket for a second?"

Effie froze.

Claudius Templesmith gasped. "Oh my God. Isn't she just _perfect_?" The two men nodded at each other.

"She looked _stunning_ tonight. And you know, it's not all Cinna, either."

Claudius shook his head. "The man's a brilliant designer, but Effie could step out in a trash bag and make it look amazing."

Caesar laughed. "As if Effie Trinket would ever be caught dead in a trash bag." Caesar turned back to the camera. "Now for those of you who are fortunate to be too young to know, unlike myself, Effie used to model."

"She was the modern day Cover Girl," nodded Claudius.

"I still remember when she was crowned Pin-Up Queen."

"Okay, well that's enough of _this_ ," exclaimed a blushing Effie, but Haymitch grabbed the remote so fast that she didn't even see him move. "Haymitch!"

"What? I'm watchin' it," he shrugged.

"There's nothing to watch."

"She was the most exquisite Pin-Up girl the Capitol had ever seen," noted Claudius.

"Maybe we should watch it," Effie said, perking up. Cinna laughed.

"She was a _jewel_ , wasn't she? Suddenly Effie Trinket wasn't a child star anymore. She was all grown up. I'm still shocked as to her calling it quits, and right at the height of her career. It's a shame too, because she could honestly still be modeling. She hadn't aged a day!"

Effie shook her head, embarrassed.

"You know what we should do?" asked Claudius. "We should show everybody who Effie Trinket is."

"Oh God," Effie moaned. She knew where this was going. "Please don't."

"I say we air another episode of Who Is, right now," Claudius continued.

"No. Wasn't once enough?" Effie covered her face.

" _Once_?" scoffed Portia. "They aired your special for three months straight after Katniss and Peeta won."

"You two didn't watch it did you?" Effie asked.

"Of course we did," said Cinna. "But if it makes you feel any better, most of what they showed, we'd already seen."

"How?"

" _How_? Effie, there's a whole class on you in design school, you know. You're still worshipped. If you don't get an A in that course you might as well kiss designing goodbye."

"You can't be serious," Haymitch said.

"He's exaggerating," said Portia. "But not by much. Cinna got an A in the class, and I got a B. You see who works for who." Effie just blinked. "Seriously. People actually ask you what grade you got in that class. It's mandatory to graduate from design school."

"That is insane. I'm refusing to believe you." Effie made to snatch the remote away from Haymitch but he was too quick. The theme music started to play for Who Is and Effie scowled. "Honestly we have more important matters to discuss," she hissed.

Haymitch didn't budge.

When Claudius' voice rang out with 'Who Is Effie Trinket?' Effie stood up and made her way to the bar. She was going to need a drink to handle the special she refused to watch when it aired six months ago.

"Child star immediately comes to mind," stated one famous actor, his hair lime green. A picture of Effie, at ten, flashed on the screen.

"Isn't she _darling_?" asked Caesar, grinning. "Oh, she stole all of our hearts from day one."

"I've never seen a child walk in heels so well," Claudius stated. "She could work a runway."

"The way she could capture an audience!" Caesar shook his head dramatically. "We still have yet to have seen another Effie Trinket."

"She was the best to ever do it," agreed Claudius.

Effie rolled her eyes.

"Up next on Who Is Effie Trinket, we'll talk about the shoot that showed everyone she was an adult. And later, an affair that ended badly."

"Affair?" asked Haymitch, his eyebrow raised.

A commercial flashed, and Effie breathed a sigh of relief. "Really now, we shouldn't be watching this. We should all go to bed."

"We've seen the special, so we'll take you up on that offer," Portia said, and she and Cinna stood. Cinna pulled Effie to him and kissed her goodnight, and then the two of them were gone, leaving her and Haymitch alone.

"You're not _really_ going to watch this, are you?"

Haymitch shrugged. "Too early for bed, so why not?"

"Because you hate me, and I'm not interesting."

He looked at her, taking a sip of his drink. "You know I don't hate you. Sit down." She sighed and did as she was told, after grabbing an entire bottle of wine. She was going to regret this.

"Who is Effie Trinket?" as Claudius, cueing the show.

"Pin-Up Queen," some famous actress with pink hair said.

Claudius and Caesar reappeared. "Suddenly little Effie Trinket was all grown up. When she turned eighteen she posed for Pin-Up Magazine. Out of one hundred girls, Effie was selected."

"Her cover sold the quickest, and still houses the record for most units sold," Claudius said.

"Actually, to date," Caesar corrected, "Effie's edition of Pin-Up Queen has sold more units than all others combined—and Pin-Up Magazine was in business for twenty years."

A couple of pictures flashed on the screen that had Effie closing her eyes and Haymitch sitting up a little straighter. She looked like a Stepford Wife in both photos: overly big hair, dramatic makeup, and skintight couture dresses that highlighted _every_ asset she had.

It made him lick his lips to see her like that.

"It's no wonder she sold so many copies," Claudius stated, fanning himself. "She had a very successful career, and it seemed like she could do no wrong. Shortly after her Pin-Up Queen pictures were published, she was hired as District 12's Escort, and her career looked _so_ promising."

"Here we go," muttered Effie. She tensed, gripping her glass, and Haymitch stared at her for a few moments, wondering what it was that had her so worried.

"At the height of her career," Caesar said, "Effie quit modeling. It shocked the world. It was quite the scandal."

 _Is that all_? thought Haymitch.

"Well you remember that year," Claudius said. "All the reports about Effie drinking and partying."

"She had always been quite the party girl, our Effie," laughed Caesar, and Haymitch raised an eyebrow at Effie, who refused to meet his eye.

"Who is Effie Trinket?"

"A partier," said a famous author.

"Effie hit twenty-one and not a weekend went by that we didn't have a new story about Effie. Oh, she wore the latest fashions, refusing to be tied down to one designer. She had them eating out of the palm of her hand." Caesar laughed again. "Designers would beg her to wear their latest dresses, and bartenders would beg her to visit their bar."

"Even with the partying," Claudius continued, "Effie still managed to find love."

A picture of Effie and—

" _Seneca Crane_?" snapped Haymitch, frowning.

Effie brought her glass to her lips, drinking all of its contents, and poured herself another glass, and drinking most of that too.

"The pair dated for about a year and a half, before he proposed, which is quite unheard of in the Capitol. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy asks girl to marry him. It can all happen in a weekend."

"Who is Effie Trinket?"

"Old-fashioned," a famous model said. "Like… don't kiss a man on the first date old fashioned." The current model leaned forward. "You know, I heard Seneca never got to… seal the deal, if you know what I mean, before they broke up."

"I don't think that's true," Coral Axelwood, District 6's Mentor said.

"Oh my God they interviewed _Coral_?" moaned Effie? Again, the glass was brought to her lips.

Coral smiled, but it wasn't genuine. "Effie cared for Seneca. She didn't love him, no, but she cared about him. I'm sure she and Seneca had… relations." Coral giggled and Effie scowled. "I mean… how else would she trap him?"

Effie gasped and Haymitch's mouth sprung open.

"Rumors surfaced that Effie was only after Seneca for his money," continued Caesar.

"Who is Effie Trinket?"

"Filthy rich," a famous singer said. "She had a ridiculous amount of money. Probably still does. She still wears the latest designers, she lives in the richest city of the Capitol. Effie's loaded."

"Rumors of her only being after Seneca's money were quickly put to rest once Effie's net worth was 'published,'' said Claudius, air quoting 'published.'

"Oh they were leaked for sure," Caesar nodded. "Coming up next: how it all went downhill, and that temper! Effie shows us why she's not to be messed with. We'll be right back."

Effie poured herself another glass. "This is worse than I thought."

"I'm sorry. I'm still stuck on you and Seneca. What the hell?"

"It was years ago, Haymitch."

He scowled, unsure of what it was he was feeling. "What happened?"

"I'm sure they'll tell you."

Boy did they.

"Things seemed to be going great for Effie," Claudius said. "She had it all going for her: top of the line modeling contract, she was engaged to a man who was sure to turn heads in the Capitol, and she was Escort. She was living the dream."

"Or so we thought," said Caesar. "The partying got worse. By the time Effie had turned twenty-three, people were starting to wonder if she had a… problem. We understood going out at eighteen, nineteen. And twenty-one… well you're not supposed to remember _that_ age."

"I don't," Claudius said.

"But twenty-three? You should start settling down by then."

"Seneca must have thought the same thing. He proposed to her that year, right before the start of that year's Hunger Games. You remember that year."

"Of course I do," Caesar said. "It was the ten-year anniversary of Haymitch's Hunger Game." Haymitch jerked violently and Effie tensed. "He proposed to her right before she left for the Reaping. Those closest to her say she never quite gave him an answer."

"I believe that. When she got back, the showdown of the century. So who is Effie Trinket?"

"I don't really know her," a famous radio personality said, "but I do know she has a temper. _Everybody_ heard about the way she called off her engagement to Seneca."

"I was there that day," smiled a famous restaurant owner. "I was thinking about purchasing that restaurant, and it was more packed than usual. It always is at the start of the Hunger Games. That year more people were out than ever. It'd been ten years since a Quarter Quell. It's a monumental moment. Anyway, Effie and Seneca were a few tables away, and I don't know what he said to her, but I saw it all happen out of the corner of my eye. I saw her grab her wine glass. She threw it in his face. The wine and the glass. She used a few choice words that were _not_ very proper and started to march out."

"Oh God," Effie whispered, because she knew what was coming next.

The restaurant owner sobered up. "Seneca stood up and said, 'Did you learn those words from your drunk Mentor?' and Effie _lost_ it. I know a thing or two about women—" he winked—"and let me tell you, Seneca made a huge mistake. It took _four_ security guards to get that woman off of Seneca."

"Effie always had a temper," Coral said, and Effie sat the glass down and started drinking straight from the bottle.

"Things seemed to go downhill from there," said Claudius.

"Reports surfaced that Effie had gotten into it with her agency. She had just signed a two-year deal worth fifteen million dollars—that was unheard of back then—and they had a meeting the very next day after her breakup with Seneca. It did not go well." Caesar frowned at the camera. "Rumors swirled that her agency wanted her to do a shoot in honor of Haymitch's Games."

Haymitch stilled.

Effie sat up, surprised. "Oh my God," breathed Effie, her heart hammering, How'd they get this information?

"What kind of shoot are we talking about?" Claudius asked.

"Well, back then no one knew, but I have a source."

Effie felt the blood drain from her face. He couldn't have a _source_.

"I heard that they wanted her to pose with bottles of liquor, and in jail—because let's face it, Haymitch has been arrested too many times to count—and things of that nature."

Effie stood up, her face contorted with rage. "When I get my hands on—"

"Now, Effie, if you're watching, don't be mad," Caesar laughed.

"It won't be funny when you're off the air," Effie said coldly.

"Effie," said Haymitch, and she spared him a glance before steel blue eyes rested back on Caesar.

"It can also be revealed, exclusively, that Effie told her agency she would never disrespect her Mentor like that, grabbed her things, and walked out."

"Well… what her agency suggested isn't unheard of. People mimic Victors all the time. And it's always done quite tastefully."

"Well apparently it wasn't proper and tasteful enough for Effie, because she was having none of it. She pitched a fit," continued Caesar. "She flat out refused to do it. Her mind would not be changed. That same night, she quit. She told them that they could sue her, but that she was done modeling. They did sue her, but they settled out of court. A very close friend of mine who was on the case said that Effie walked in there, wrote them a check, and walked out without so much as a backwards glance. She never modeled again."

"So she lost her fiancé, and her job, within two days of each other."

"But she's made quite a name for herself as a socialite," Claudius said. "Who is Effie Trinket?"

"Every man's wet dream," and Haymitch snorted while Effie stood there, mortified, as she looked at Finnick O'dair.

"The most popular girl in school," Cinna said with a smile, and Effie's mouth dropped open. Why that sneaky son of a—

"I'm gonna kill him," said Effie. " _After_ I kill the source, and Caesar."

"The drinking and partying stopped that year, and she never dated again, or if she did, she kept it out of the press. She kept being an Escort, and _finally_ after nearly twenty years, she had not one, but _two_ Hunger Game Victors."

"What I find funny, though," Caesar said, crossing his legs, "is that she never poses for pictures of does interviews. She releases statements, every now and then, but she has not purposely posed for a camera in fifteen years. Not even when they won last year."

"I heard she was approached about doing a cover since she won," said Claudius slyly.

"She was. I'm a good friend with Tella Wildtide, the former owner of Pin-Up Magazine, and she told me that they called Effie the night her Tributes won. Effie hung up in her face."

The camera cut back to Coral. "Effie always could be a little… rude."

"But she is beloved by all," Claudius said. "Even though Effie didn't want to pose for new pictures, Pin-Up Magazine republished several of Effie's best pictures throughout her career for a one-time released Calendar. They'll release this calendar at the start of the Victory Tour in a few months."

"I'm sure they won't be able to keep it on the shelves," Caesar said. "That's all we have for tonight on 'Who Is.' Until next time."

The television went black and Effie started pacing. "Oh, they are dead. Everyone of them. I'm going to countersue."

"You won't either," sighed Haymitch.

"I will. It was part of the deal. It was my only stipulation—that they never tell anyone what they suggested. Oh you should have _seen_ them, Haymitch. They were _so_ excited about this idea. I was horrified."

Haymitch stood up, looking at her. "So that's why you quit modelin'?"

"It was my breaking point. I hadn't been happy in years. It was harder to smile. My shoots took twice as long because of it. Between Seneca and my agency… I just lost it. But I felt _so_ free afterwards."

" _Seneca_ ," snarled Haymitch. He looked away for a minute, and then turned back to her. "You loved him?"

"I thought I did. Until I told him about my nightmares. I had started getting them by then. I told him I still remembered their names. All of them. He told me that that was stupid, that I wasn't supposed to get attached, and that if I were a better Escort, I could have Victors." She shook her head. "Then he changed his story, probably after he realized how pissed I was at that statement. He said if I had a better Mentor I'd have Victors. He proposed the next day. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him."

"He was an idiot."

"You shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

"They should of added 'proper' to that Who Is special," Haymitch said with a smirk. He walked up to her, placing his hand on her hips, and she inhaled sharply.

"Did Seneca make your heartbeat speed up like this?" His voice was low. She knew what that meant. He was feeling possessive.

"No," Effie said, glancing up at him.

"Have you ever had Seneca's back like you got mine?" His lips were on her neck, causing her to shiver.

"Hell no."

He kissed her lips, and she kissed him back, making his heart hammer.

"Thank you for always having my back," he said, and he was happy that his voice came out gruff.

Her hands slid down to his chest. "Always," whispered Effie against his lips.

When he took her to bed, he couldn't help but think about who Effie was.

She was a lot of things. Everything they had said on the show. They had forgotten one, but they couldn't know this. Rebel came to mind.

And as she lay curled up next to him, her wig gone, her face makeup free, there was one thing that she was that they definitely didn't know about.

His.


	60. Changes

" _There's something about seeing their relationship through the eyes of other people that I really appreciate. I think it adds another dimension that you don't get otherwise. I don't know if this suggestion fits in this grouping of stories or not, but what about a little one that's done from Katniss and Peeta's POV after having Hayffie over for supper or something? I know it's not exactly an exciting idea, it would definitely be more introspective, but it could be how they share many glances between each other as they note how Hayffie interact with each other. How Haymitch is clean, how his hair is combed, he's shaved (whatever you think works creatively) how Effie seems relaxed, how they touch and smile at each other etc. Katniss and Peeta don't say anything until they leave and then they discuss these changes. I think it would be really cute if at the close of the convo as they head up to bed, Peeta jokes if they should speak to THEM about protection as a way to bring everything around. I hope there's a semblance of sense with this prompt, I swear it makes sense in my head :)"_

 _Absolutely adorbs,_ _karmicsamadi86_ _. Enjoy!_

 **CHANGES**

 **Rated K**

Something was different. They could tell.

It was subtle, hardly noticeable, and it was more evident in Haymitch than it was in Effie. It was in the way he laughed—not just a little softer, slightly different than his usual bark—but the fact that he laughed at all. It was in the way he was more patient. The way he wasn't stumbling around Victor's Village, drunk out of his mind, chasing his geese while waiting for the next train. The way he wasn't passed out drunk at his table every morning when Peeta left bread for him.

Peeta had noticed the slight changes over the past several months, but Katniss didn't see it until now. It was in the way he helped Effie out of her coat when they walked inside, and the way he pulled out her chair for her at the table.

The soft brush of contact between Haymitch and Effie had Katniss narrowing her eyes. She was moving his hair out of his face instead of nagging him about cutting it.

Yah. Something was different all right.

Effie had been back for a little over eight months now. She'd surprised the hell out of them one morning, softly knocking on their door. Nobody ever knocked, besides Haymitch, who had walked in on them and their… _ahem_ … extracurricular activities a couple of times. But the stark contrast between Haymitch's normal knock and the delicate tapping at the door had Katniss and Peeta's back going up, and they had cautiously made their way to their front door, never expecting to see Effie Trinket.

She had looked so different. Her real hair, strawberry blonde, ran in waves down passed her shoulders. Her eyes, so blue it could distract anyone from the sky, were still slightly vacant, but held a candle of warmth in them as she stared at her Tributes. She'd seemed smaller without the heels, and even more petite without the crazy dresses on her tiny frame. But no one could deny she was beautiful, way prettier without all that makeup.

Effie went around pretending that she was okay, but Katniss and Peeta weren't fooled. They would have known she was pretending even if she didn't jump at the slightest sound, or stare off into space, her body rigid, her breath short.

It was never lost on Peeta that it was always Haymitch who had the ability to bring her back, though Peeta wasn't sure if Katniss had picked up on it.

He knew she hadn't when she sent him a covert look when Haymitch whispered something in Effie's ear.

She laughed, and it was a beautiful sound, because it had taken Effie months to laugh for the first time, and Peeta wanted to see her happy.

She was still pretending she was better, but Peeta let it slide, because she _was_ getting better. She smiled more. She corrected their manners. She fussed. And those eyes of hers were clearer than ever, allowing Peeta to breathe a little easier.

And live a little easier.

Because the flashbacks came back full throttle at her arrival.

They didn't tell Effie or Haymitch.

He could still hear her screams. Because just like Johanna was familiar with his screams, he was familiar with Effie's. And even though he was happy to have Effie here, to have her thrust back into his life like that, so unexpectedly, reminded him of dark cellars and white costumes.

Over time, though, the flashbacks lessened again, and they had slowly started a routine. They always came over for dinner on the weekends.

Haymitch would only have one glass of wine.

And the only time Haymitch drank hard liquor now was if Effie had a particularly bad night, but he only ever drank enough to calm his nerves. Haymitch never told him this, of course. Peeta figured it out. On days Haymitch drank his white liquor Effie was always quieter and more reserved, dark circles under her eyes.

It'd been about a month since one of those nights, though, and sometimes, on nights like this, when they were all seated around the table, the fireplace casting warm shadows on their faces, it was easy to forget.

To pretend.

Especially when Haymitch snaked his arms around Effie's waist, brushing a gentle kiss on her neck when they thought no one was looking.

They must have been really into each other to not hear him, figuring he wasn't exactly the quietest walker, which they proved when Effie turned around, her hands sliding to his neck, their mouth's finding each other.

Peeta stopped, the plate of cookies in his hand, with the intention of trying to sneak back into the kitchen, when Katniss bumped into him, causing the plate of cookies to shatter.

Haymitch and Effie broke apart and Peeta immediately started apologizing.

Katniss just stood there, her mouth open.

"Were you two just kissing?" she blurted out, and Peeta rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

His wife.

"So what if we were?" asked Haymitch.

Katniss tilted her head to the side. "But you're old."

Haymitch scowled and Effie arched an eyebrow. "Katniss dear, _Haymitch_ is old. _I_ am like fine wine. I get better with age."

Peeta snickered while Katniss still just stood there. "But you hate each other."

" _Really_ Katniss?" asked a perplexed Peeta. He sighed, bending down to pick up the cookies.

"I did hate him," Effie said. "For the first few years. Then I strongly disliked him for the next several years. Then I started helping with the Rebellion, and he couldn't resist me. How could he?"

She smiled smugly and Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Enough mushy shi—"

"Language, Haymitch, honestly. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Until I die, Princess."

" _That_ can be arranged, you know," she snapped.

Peeta smiled, and Katniss stood there, more confused than ever as Haymitch and Effie bickered. He wrapped his arm around Katniss' waist, pulling her to him. "It's how they love, Katniss."

" _Love_?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Katniss shook her head and walked back into the kitchen, Peeta close behind her. "How long?"

Peeta shrugged. "I don't know. I suspected, though." He grinned at Katniss. "Maybe we should have a talk with them about protection." Katniss made a face and he laughed as he threw away the cookies that had fallen.

"You don't think they're…?" She looked horrified and mortified.

"They touch a lot," shrugged Peeta.

"Oh my God. Ew. I can't." She actually shivered, frowning. Then she turned to him. "They're good for each other?"

Peeta stared at her. "I knew the look she used to give Haymitch on the train. I myself was pining after a girl who never knew I was alive, until she had to kill me." He bumped her slightly to let her know he was joking.

Kind of.

"I don't think Haymitch really paid any attention to her, though. She was Capitol, and by default he hated everything Capitol."

"Almost," he said, and Katniss whipped her head around, noting the nearly empty glass of wine in his hand. "But not quite."

Peeta waited for him to explain, so he drank the rest of his glass and placed it in the sink before ever answering.

"I was a damned good actor. Had her fooled for years."

"You had no idea you were in love with her until she was taken, Haymitch."

"True, but I definitely cared about her, okay?"

"You people from the Seam are idiots," Peeta declared.

"I've said that for years," agreed Effie. She had her and Haymitch's coats in her hand, and Peeta and Katniss watched, transfixed, as he immediately opened her coat so that she could slip into it.

"And you people from the Capitol are stuck up," Haymitch said, but without heat. In fact he was smiling.

"Well they say opposites attract."

"The kids are living proof of that," and it was like Katniss and Peeta weren't even in their own house.

"Opposites don't attract," Katniss said, and they all turned to look at her. "It's true. Love changes you. It changes your mind. It changes what you thought you knew. It changes what you think you thought. Plain and simple."

She walked off towards the sink to do the dishes, unaware that she had just shocked them all. She thought she was being cynical, when really she had never spoken more profound words.

Not when she was creating propos for Snow.

Not when she was encouraging a crowd in 8.

Not when she was persuading a man in 2.

Not when she was bringing together a nation.

Not when they were saying their vows.

When Haymitch and Effie left, hand in hand, no less, Peeta went up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. She sighed, leaning into him.

Maybe opposites didn't attract. That was debatable, he thought, but she made one valid point.

Love changed you, and the four of them were living proof of that.

 _Definitely kept hearing Jamie Foxx and Mary J. Blige's version of 'Love Changes' while writing this LOL. I had to listen to it haha._


	61. Soulmates

" _Soulmates—someone you don't have to explain yourself to." Adrienne from the show The Real stated this, and inspiration struck. This is told from different people's point of views, since you all liked Changes so much. Enjoy_

 **SOULMATES**

 **Rated K**

 **CHAFF**

He watched as Effie's Capitol blue eyes swept the half-empty bar in one swift motion until her eyes rested on Haymitch. Concern flooded them for a few seconds before she masked it back to quiet indifference. She walked up to them and Chaff smiled sheepishly at her.

"Wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face," she snapped at him. She passed him and walked up to Haymitch, sitting down on the stool next to him. Chaff couldn't hear what she ordered, but a few minutes later a glass of something dark was sat down in front of Haymitch.

Chaff watched as Effie laid a gentle hand on Haymitch's shoulder. He lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot, and Effie handed him the drink. He frowned, but she whispered in his ear, and he slowly wrapped his finger around the drink and drank it, cringing as he did. Effie then ordered a glass of something pink and sipped it. Chaff watched, transfixed, as Haymitch started to pucker up. By the time Effie was finished with her drink Haymitch was at least able to stand.

Not straight, but he could stand, which was more than he could do half an hour ago when Chaff called Effie because between him and Haymitch neither one of them could even walk out the bar.

"Glad you were able to help," said Chaff. "Without you the bartender would have thrown us in jail because we were so drunk."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Haymitch slurred.

Effie helped them out of the bar and motioned for a car. One appeared almost instantly. Haymitch climbed in first, Chaff trying his best to help him, and then Effie slid in. Chaff got in last. Once the car started moving Haymitch moaned, dropping his head on Effie's shoulder.

Chaff couldn't say that he was all that surprised to see she let him.

Inside the penthouse he helped Effie with Haymitch and together they got him to the living room. Chaff watched, almost in awe, at how Effie fussed over him. She undid his tie, unbuttoned his top shirt button, and took off his shoes.

"I'm going to remove your knife now, okay?" she said softly.

"Sure thing, Princess."

It was practiced, routine even. She walked towards the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag, and put it down on the ground. Then she covered him up with a blanket.

She couldn't quite stop herself from brushing his hair out of his face.

Haymitch grabbed her hand as she started to walk away, and she froze. Her eyes darted to Chaff, briefly, and then landed back on Haymitch. He was a little slower to catch up, and it took him a few more seconds to let go of her hand.

"I'll see my way out," said Chaff. He figured he could make it to his place. Watching them made him lonely, he realized.

Effie didn't just have Haymitch.

Haymitch had Effie.

 **FINNICK**

He stared at Effie and Haymitch as they danced together, taking in the way Haymitch pulled her closer than necessary, his hand on the small of her back, her arms wrapped around his neck. They weren't dancing together, not per say. More like swaying together. Their eyes never left each other.

He couldn't blame Haymitch for being attracted to her. Effie Trinket was every man's wet dream. She was a tease, too, but he was pleased to note that he rarely heard stories or secrets about her. She didn't really fit in with the rest of the Capitol, and she didn't really try all that hard to.

There were whispers about her and Seneca, but _everybody_ knew about that. They said she dumped him for talking bad about Haymitch. The only thing he ever consistently heard about in regards to Effie is that she was probably too loyal to Haymitch.

Knowing what he knew now, he figured that wasn't a bad thing.

He definitely understood why Haymitch was possessive and jealous when it came to Effie. He would be too. She was stunning.

What he didn't understand was _why_. Everybody knew what the Capitol had done to Haymitch's family. Effie, by definition, should have been considered Capitol to Haymitch. Yet the way he was looking at her… the way he was dancing with her had Finnick raising his eyebrows.

"Are you sure they're not…?" asked Finnick.

"Of course I'm not sure," Chaff said. "But so what if they are? She's not strictly Capitol. I've told you that."

Finnick kept staring. He was still getting used to it. He liked Effie, and she was definitely different from any other Escort.

But Effie wasn't only loyal to Haymitch.

Seemed like Haymitch was loyal to Effie too.

 **CORAL**

She hated them together.

They were just so _perfect_.

It didn't matter that Effie was the only one who could control Haymitch. She remembered the rumors about Haymitch. When she had found out that Effie had gotten District 12 she'd been furious, just as Effie was thrilled. She and Effie had always had this competition with each other; Effie seemed to have gotten the upper hand by getting Haymitch. And then she'd heard how difficult Haymitch was to work with, and that he was a drunk, and never showed up to anything, ever, if he could help it, and she realized Effie would have her work cut out for her.

She'd been beside herself with envy as she saw the way Effie consistently cleaned Haymitch up, year after year. Somehow she got him to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, however she wanted.

But it wasn't until she noticed how alike they were that she started to get upset.

Effie _always_ seemed to end up on top, no matter what.

Take now for instance, in the way they went and talked to Sponsors. They'd never actually get them, of course—nobody believed in District 12, even with that stupid girl volunteering—but the two of them talked and buttered up the Sponsor together. They had never done this before. Usually Effie was out here by herself, setting up meetings, while Haymitch was out getting drunk. She'd never actually seen Haymitch talk to a Sponsor before. But it was obviously natural, the way they worked together. He didn't have to be coached on what to say, or how to act.

Effie didn't just work well with Haymitch.

Haymitch worked well with Effie.

 **JOHANNA**

She watched them through narrowed eyes: the way they walked together, in sync, both feet hitting the ground at the same time. They stopped at the same time and she took out her list, crossing off another name, Haymitch glancing over her shoulder. She tucked away the list and then the two of them fell back into step together, his hand on the small of her back.

She watched as they thanked another Sponsor, Effie walking up first, Haymitch behind her. Then they switched, Haymitch stepping out of the way so that Effie could step back, and then Haymitch stepping forward. Then they were off again, Haymitch's hand on the small of her back.

For two people who had never won before, they certainly knew how to play the Game.

She continued to watch as a waiter passed by. Effie grabbed a glass and handed it to Haymitch, who threw it back almost immediately. She laid a gentle hand on his arm and he took a deep breath. Haymitch placed the glass back down and the waiter sauntered off, and then they were walking again.

She got him. She supposed in twenty years one could—and should—learn the ins and outs of someone, but this was… different. Haymitch and Chaff had known each other longer than Haymitch and Effie, yet it wasn't the same.

Johanna didn't get it. She didn't dislike Effie anymore. She'd spent enough time to know that she was different, as far as Escorts go. But there was a difference between not disliking someone and flat out liking them.

Haymitch _liked_ her.

Was probably screwing her too, and that she didn't get most of all. Because Haymitch hated anything and all things Capitol, but the way he looked at Effie… was almost the same way he looked at a good bottle of liquor.

Because the truth was Effie didn't just get Haymitch.

Haymitch got Effie.

 **CINNA**

He held in a smile as he watched Haymitch twirl Effie on the dance floor. He was glad Haymitch had finally followed his advice and asked Effie to dance. Haymitch was such a worrier. He understood. They were one Uprising away from war, but for now, it was a simple Victory Ball, Haymitch was a simple Mentor, and Effie was a simple Escort. Nothing more, nothing less. They were expected to dance together.

So what if one could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

He did wonder if the two of them had… relations. It was something him and Portia discussed at least ten times a day. But Effie and Haymitch were careful. _Too_ careful. And that's why Cinna was suspicious. It was certainly true that nobody pissed Effie off more than Haymitch, and vice versa. But it was also true that no one calmed each other down more either.

Haymitch laughed and pulled Effie close again, holding her tightly. She pulled him closer, tightening her hold on him. He watched them, amused at how they seemed to know what the other was thinking. Haymitch led, for once, and Effie effortlessly stepped into play.

Cinna blinked, making sure he kept his face neutral.

He watched them, until he was sure.

When Portia came up to him he took her to the dance floor, not too far away from Effie and Haymitch.

"Effie's definitely in love with Haymitch," Cinna said.

Portia smiled triumphantly. "Told you."

"But Haymitch is in love with her too."

 **MRS. EVERDEEN**

"Her vitals are better," she said to Haymitch. "She's keeping food down. Her bruises are healing." She glanced at Effie and then turned back to Haymitch. "I expect she'll make a full physical recovery."

"And mental?" asked Haymitch.

"With the proper care and attention, she can overcome that too."

She walked away, hoping he understood what she was trying to say. She wasn't sure if it was her place to spell it out for him, as confused as he was. She understood how he felt: on one hand Effie was Capitol, on the other hand she was a Rebel. She herself was conflicted. On one hand this woman picked her daughter's name. Both of them. On the other hand she'd been tortured in a cell, yet had never said anything.

But he cared about her. He had to. It was the way he stayed by Effie's side, every single moment of every single day. For the past week he'd been right here and had flat out refused to leave her side.

She'd never suspected anything about Effie being on their side, let alone there being a Haymitch and Effie, but he'd pulled her away from some of the others and told her that she was to put all her concentration on saving Effie. No other doctor, Capitol or Rebel, could come into this room and operate on Effie.

When she made her way to the door she turned around to get another look at Haymitch. He'd been broken for so long. She was old enough to remember when he'd lost his family and girl two weeks after his Games, and she was smart enough to know who had done it, and why. He wasn't just broken anymore, though. He was thoroughly undone, and she suspected he had no clue how lost he was without Effie.

He wouldn't know how to live without Effie.

Effie didn't just need Haymitch.

Haymitch needed Effie.

 **PEETA**

Haymitch nursed Effie back to health, and she did the same for him. He stopped drinking. They stopped hearing her screams every night—even with their windows closed.

He had suspected from the very beginning, the minute she defended Haymitch while he and Katniss were laughing at him. " _He is your lifeline!_ " she had scolded.

It was more than that, though. It was in the way she passed him a glass of liquor without having to ask which flavor. The way he poured her a glass of wine, always red. Never white. The way he knew how much to pour, or when she needed another glass—like in 11, during the Victory Tour—or when she'd had enough, like before they made their way to the Capitol on the same tour.

It was the way Cinna tended to dress them alike, the same way he dressed him and Katniss.

Even if it took her three years to forgive Haymitch and knock on his door, nothing had changed between them. They knew what the other was thinking, even without having to say a word. The way she passed him the salt without him having to ask, or the way he cut her a thin slice of cake was wondrous to behold.

A lot had changed during and after the war.

One thing that hadn't: Effie and Haymitch.

Effie wasn't just Haymitch's soulmate.

Haymitch was Effie's.


	62. Fly Before You Fall

_Song is from the AMAZING movie that is Beyond the Lights. Like if you haven't seen that movie, you're insane. It is PERFECTION. As is the song. It's a beautiful ballad. Look it up if you've never heard it. 'Fly Before You Fall.'_

 _Prompt: "_ _Effie making an appeal to Haymitch to leave the memory of his dead girl behind for her?" Its Me Get Over It asked for this prompt with a different song, but I couldn't seem to do it…. I just couldn't get into the song. So I thought I'd touch on it, briefly, in this one._

 **FLY BEFORE YOU FALL**

 **Rated T**

 _I see the way that you look when you hear his name_

 _I see his picture up in your frame_

 _And you refuse to admit you still miss him but it's okay_

The first time she nearly gave herself to him, he whispered out her name.

 _Her_ name.

His girl's.

The dead one.

She sobered up quickly, pretty much immediately, and pushed him off of her. He fell onto his side, and was asleep in seconds.

She didn't know why it had hurt her, but as she gathered up her blouse and wig, she realized she'd tried to show herself to him, but he never even saw her.

How could he see her when he was still blinded by his ghosts?

He'd never admit it, but he missed her.

She'd never compare.

 _You're a tower of strength when you're breaking down_

 _But through the wall I can feel your cry_

 _And when it's quiet you're screaming inside_

She palmed the door to his bedroom as he cried out into the night. They were always worse when the female Tribute favored Masilee: pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair.

She wanted to comfort him. After ten years together they had… moments, when he'd let his guard down, and she'd let hers down.

It overwhelmed her sometimes, how hurt he was. She wondered how much of an effort it took for him to just get out of bed every day.

She'd stopped judging him since the ten-year anniversary of his Games.

He was always hurting.

It always broke her.

 _And I break as I hear you_

 _Loud as a bomb_

 _Wanting a shoulder to cry on_

 _I hear you_

 _Tumbling fast_

 _Here and now, you're afraid_

 _Don't you worry_

 _I'll teach you to fly before you fall away_

He wouldn't let her comfort him often.

Whenever he did, the next day he always gave her the cold shoulder, because she was Capitol, and the Capitol had destroyed everything. It was why he was on this downward spiral, tumbling fast.

And then a Mockingjay gave her the strength to reveal her true self.

She'd walked into his room the night of their Victory, the train heading to 12.

Her makeup was already off, and she undid her wig in front of him.

His tongue left hickies on the ten-year-old Mockingjay tattoo on her hipbone.

Finally he knew her name.

 _It's in the moments when you're left all on your own_

 _And it hits you from out of nowhere_

 _You try to hide it sometimes unsuccessfully_

 _With a smile that fades quickly_

It hit him at the most random times, that he was falling for someone. He'd spent twenty-five years keeping everyone at bay. It was dangerous to love him. It was dangerous to get involved with him. He was the example.

He tried to keep his distance, and then she'd make him laugh, and his guard was down again.

And then the smile faded every time he remembered what he was doing.

He'd watch her while she slept, because they'd taken to falling asleep together, and had since the Victory Tour.

He was killing her softly, and slowly.

She didn't know.

 _You're resistance to sadness is futile but_

 _You're a fighter, can't stand defeat_

 _You're a magician at hiding the hurt from you_

She watched him fight to keep his emotions at bay.

Fear.

Sadness.

He hid it well, the master of disguise, refusing to admit that he not only wanted her, but needed her.

He loved her.

But the danger outweighed the feelings. They were at war, and he had to leave her behind. She couldn't come with him. They were different. Always had been. Always would be.

When he slid out of her for the last time, he didn't say goodbye.

He was at the door when she called him. "I see you," was all she whispered, and he was gone.

 _But I see and I hear you_

 _Loud as a bomb_

 _Wanting a shoulder to cry on_

 _I hear you_

 _Tumbling fast_

 _Here and now, you're afraid_

 _Don't be scared_

 _Don't be scared_

He was afraid when they found her. The fear finally caught up to him, and he was back to old habits, because they died hard.

Not easily, like humans.

Not like the little human with blonde hair and blue eyes, who could have been Effie's daughter, or sister. Prim _was_ somebody's daughter and sister, and the fact that she resembled Masilee and Effie made it that much more unbearable.

Effie, who he had to fight to keep alive, because the Rebels— _his_ Rebels—had left her behind instead of taking her with Katniss' prep team.

He'd never forgive himself.

 _Cause I hear you_

 _Loud as a bomb_

 _Wanting a shoulder to cry on, I hear you_

 _Tumbling fast_

 _Here and now, you're afraid_

 _Don't you worry_

 _I'll teach you to fly before you fall_

He carried the guilt even after she showed up on his doorstep, a year later.

She didn't blame him.

The fear still gripped him, and he held her as tightly as he could, even though they were supposed to be safe now. He didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. The nightmares kept coming, the drinks kept pouring.

It was Effie who bought him back.

Who _always_ bought him back.

She saw him, and heard him, and he was never weak in her eyes when he needed a shoulder.

She taught him to fly, though he was meant to fall.


	63. The Other Side of the Line

_Prompts for 13 have been GREAT, and I'm literally obsessed. Keep them coming. FYI, this is not one of those prompts LOL_

 **THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LINE**

 **Rated K**

She looked out her peephole and sighed. She waited a few minutes, debating with herself if she wanted to deal with this right now or not, and in the end, ended up opening the door.

He stared at her for several moments, and she stared back, before finally moving aside and letting him in. She closed the door and leaned against it. Haymitch turned to face her.

"I know I'm probably the last person you wanna see," he told her.

He was wrong. He was the _only_ person she wanted to see.

"I just wanted to check on you before I went back to 12. I don't know if you watched her trial or not, but she got off…."

"I saw," responded Effie, folding her arms under her chest.

"Yah, well… I've been told I gotta go back with her."

"Of course you do. Who else could look after her?"

"Well that's actually why I'm here." Effie stared at him expectantly. "You could, you know."

"I could… what?"

"Look after her." Effie blinked at him. "You could… come back with us. To 12."

Effie stared at him until what he was saying sunk in. "Are you… _insane_?"

Haymitch frowned. "No."

"Are you drunk?"

His back went up. "No," he said coldly.

Effie looked at him. "Why would you ask me this, Haymitch?" Her voice was a whisper but the fury in it could be heard loud and clear. "After everything, why the _hell_ would you come here and ask me this?"

"I thought…." His voice trailed off. What had he thought?

"You thought wrong," said Effie fiercely. "I want nothing to do with you."

"Effie you _have_ to believe me," he told her, closing the gap between them. "I never thought, not for one second, that you'd actually be taken. I thought you were safer here. I don't know how many times I have to say I'm sorry."

"Until you apologize for the right thing," snapped out Effie, stepping away from him. She didn't want him touching her, and it was a slap in the face, because he knew her body better than she did. "I don't care about being taken, Haymitch!"

"What the hell am I supposed to be apologizing about then?" Haymitch asked angrily. "You got all the answers, then—"

"I loved you Haymitch!" The world stopped spinning. Haymitch closed his mouth and stood still. "I loved you," she repeated quietly. "And I love those kids." His heart stopped as he realized she used past tense with him, but present tense when talking about Peeta and Katniss. "There's nothing I wouldn't have done for you. Or for them. Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Her eyes were filled with tears.

Haymitch closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "Effie, I—"

"You don't know me. In twenty years, you never saw me. I took care of you. I cleaned up after you. I nursed you back to health. I made sure you were fed and clothed. I bailed you out of jail. I defended you. I always had your back. But you couldn't do the same for me. I get you. I understand you. I _know_ you. It's logical that you couldn't take me to 13. I'm not angry at you because of that, though it'd have been worth it if I knew what the hell they were torturing me for all those months." Effie shook her head, tears finally falling. "But keeping me in the dark, because you didn't trust me? _That_ is unforgivable."

She took a deep breath and opened her front door.

"Effie, please—"

"Goodbye, Haymitch."

"Effie," he tried again.

"It's time for you to go home." She kept her eyes on him until he finally started walking towards the door. He got to the doorway and looked at her one last time, his eyes pleading. "Don't come back here, Haymitch."

She didn't let him respond. She just slammed the door in his face and locked it.

When she heard his footsteps disappear she slid down her door, sobs wracking her body.

 **XxXxXx**

All those thoughts ran though Haymitch's head as he stared at Effie, his mouth hanging open.

She stood there, in a black overcoat, probably freezing to death because Capitol clothes hardly stood a chance against 12's harsh winters.

"I hope the fact that you haven't invited me in yet doesn't mean that there's another woman in your house, and that I'm too late."

Another woman? Were there any other women in the world? He was pretty sure he'd never seen one.

He was still too stunned to talk, apparently, because he tried and failed to speak, so he finally just moved aside to let her in.

"You're surprised to see me," she said softly.

"Of course I am," said Haymitch, and _finally_ his voice was back. "The last time I saw you, you practically told me you never wanted to see me again."

"Honestly, Haymitch, when have I ever been able to stay mad at you?"

Haymitch felt his heart slowly start to beat properly for the first time in a year. He knew this feeling. Hope. "So… you don't hate me?"

Effie gave him a small smile. "Well they say there's a thin line between love and hate." She walked up to him, and his heartbeat started to speed up. She pulled him to her. "I'm on the other side of that line."

Haymitch cupped her cheeks. "So you still love me?"

"Darling, I've never stopped."

He kissed her, realizing that there _was_ a thin line between love and hate. He'd certainly hated her for years, but he found it was so damn easy to love her, too.

He found that he too was on the other side of that line.


	64. An Improper Proposal

_Prompt: "_ _I have an idea, of sorts... How about Haymitch proposes to Effie, she accepts, then she has to tell her mother that she's engaged to the District drunk that her mother hates? Xoxo"_

 _Also, "Bahaha. I'll admit I wasn't sure where this was going. For a while there I thought the guy was going to a ghost from Effie's past (like an ex-lover or distant relative). Gotta love Peeta! For being Haymitch's buffer to clam Effie down and asking the million dollar question..._

 _What about THAT for a prompt? Haymitch meeting Effie's family after the war? It can be either in the Capitol or in Twelve._

 _Thanks for sharing- loved this!"_

 _Got quite a few responses in regards to Cleara Trinket. She's definitely rude and stuck-up, and a ton of fun to write, so any more prompts about her are LIFE. Thanks to BlackCat46 and It's Me, Get Over It, for this one._

 **AN IMPROPER PROPOSAL**

 **Rated T—kind of hot and heavy**

Effie walked down the stairs, nervously twisting the piece of jewelry she wore. She was kind of disappointed that he wasn't napping, even though he was lying across the couch. Now she didn't have a choice, and had to do what she'd been prolonging for over six months.

She knew what she had to do, she just didn't know how the hell she was going to get him to do it.

She walked up to the couch and didn't ask him to move. She just climbed on his lap and stretched out next to him. His hands made their way around her waist, and suddenly she knew what she was going to do.

Her lips found their way to his jawline, and he tightened his grip on her in surprise. She worked her way up to his lips, and when she found them, he was ready for her. She started undoing the buttons on his shirt without breaking away from him.

"What's gotten into you, Princess?" he mumbled, kissing her neck.

"I'll tell you what hasn't," hummed Effie, gripping him. He moaned, hardening in her hand.

She nibbled on his ear as he sat up to discard his shirt, his hands making their way to her back so that he could unzip her dress.

"Haymitch," she breathed, lightly biting his ear. "I need something from you."

"Anything. Absolutely anything," he mumbled, distracted at her breath on his ear. She stuck her tongue out, licking his lobe, and he nearly lost it.

"I need you to ask for my hand in marriage."

She knew immediately that the moment was over. He gripped her, pushing her away from him, so that he could look at her.

"I hope you're talking about the kids," he said.

In a very unladylike move, Effie slumped. "Of course I'm not," she sighed. "The kids have known we've been engaged for months." She absentmindedly started playing with her ring again, like she'd been doing earlier when she first came down the stairs.

"Then who?" But the panic in his voice had her realizing that he suspected who already.

"My parents."

He just blinked at her. "You are insane," he finally said. He started to get up, but Effie continued to straddle him.

"Haymitch," she said, pushing him down. "Seriously. What do I have to do…" she started slithering down his body, "to convince you to do this for me?"

"Nothing," replied Haymitch, though he didn't sound very sure of himself. Probably because she was unzipping his pants with her teeth. "Seriously, Effie, there's…." Haymitch squeezed his eyes shut. "No… I…" He gave up, his head falling back.

His last coherent thought was _not fair_ , before he succumbed over to the pleasure.

 **XxXxXx**

"Honestly, Haymitch, stop pouting," Effie said as they got off the train. He glared at her, scowling. "It won't be that bad."

"It'll be worse," he told her.

"I just wanted you to propose properly."

"You coerced me to properly propose by proposing _im_ properly to me."

Effie gave him a sly grin. "I didn't hear you complaining."

"Course not. It'd be awfully rude to complain when you're pleasing me like that. I thought I'd wait until we were finished."

"How kind of you," said Effie sarcastically.

They continued walking, Effie stiffening as she felt the people staring at her. She stuck out like a sore thumb here now, and Effie _claimed_ she didn't care, but from the looks of things, she did. She wore a simple dress, no make up, and no wig. Haymitch didn't look much better in his jeans, button down, and blazer.

Haymitch placed his hand on the small of her back and she instantly relaxed. They wove in and out of the way of the crowd, almost like they were back at a party during the Games.

Speaking of the Games….

"I should have bought Katniss' bow," mumbled Haymitch.

"Don't be ridiculous," Effie said sharply. "The Capitol is hardly like it used to be. Paylor's done a good job over the past five years."

Haymitch snorted. "Too bad she hasn't fixed the fashion problem yet."

Effie officially relaxed at that statement, and he slid his arm around her. She leaned into him, briefly, and then they were walking side-by-side again. They made their way to the busy street and waited for a cab. When they caught one, Effie gave the driver the familiar address, and Haymitch slumped moodily in the back seat.

 **XxXxXx**

"When we get there, I want you to mind your manners, Haymitch. My parents… my mother is a force to be reckoned with. She's worse than me. She's already going to be highly offended because I didn't call and they don't know that we're coming, not to mention she's going to be pissed that it's you."

"Why?" asked Haymitch.

"For one, you were always their least favorite Victor. People from 12 were _not_ supposed to win the Games, not to mention, you always talked bad about the Capitol in your Interviews. Two, you have a reputation: you've been arrested I don't know _how_ many times, and it's a well-known fact that you used to be a drunk. My parents won't care that you've changed. Three, I left the Capitol without so much as a goodbye, and haven't been back in five years. When they realize I've been with you, they're going to blame you."

"Remind me why I didn't bring Katniss' bow again?"

Effie rolled her eyes, her face strained. "Please, _please_ behave."

"Why? Sounds like they already hate me. I don't know why you even care about impressing them. You never even mention your family."

"We're getting married in a week, Haymitch, and as a little girl I always pictured my father walking me down the aisle."

"We're having a _toasting_ in _12_ in a week, Princess. That's not the same thing."

"It is to me," Effie said quietly. "And I'd like my father there."

Haymitch stared at her. "Is _that_ what this is for? So that your father can come 12 and give you away?"

"It's only _proper_ Haymitch."

"What it is, is disaster in the making. You can't invite your folks to 12, Effie. You're allowed in 12 because I told any and everybody who asked that I'd kill them if they didn't make you feel welcome. Your family though?" Haymitch scoffed. "Tough luck."

Effie sighed. "I know," she said quietly. "If I can't get my dad to walk me down the aisle, I at least want his blessing."

Haymitch refrained from rolling his eyes, because he realized it was important to her. When the cab stopped in front of the house Haymitch gaped. It was bigger than 12. _All_ of 12.

They got out, dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He turned to the cabman, telling him he'd pay him double if he waited for them.

He knew this wouldn't take long.

"Let's get this bloody over with," Haymitch said.

 **XxXxXx**

They waited in the living room, the maid showing them the way as if Effie hadn't lived there for eighteen years of her life. Effie sat on the couch, her hands folded neatly in her lap, while Haymitch stood by the fireplace, looking at some of the pictures displayed on the mantle.

After about two minutes there was a commotion upstairs, and then there was the unmistakable sound of people flying down the stairs.

"Euphemia?" breathed a woman who was unquestionably Effie's mother, minus the good looks, kindness, and humbleness. Haymitch wondered if the woman slept in the purple wig, false lashes, and powder. The woman stopped abruptly when her eyes rested on her daughter, who had slowly stood. "Oh my God. What's _happened_ to you?"

Effie blushed, but kept her head held high. "Nothing, Mother. How are?"

"Not well, Euphemia. All we've gotten from you for the past five years are random phone calls every couple of months from an untraceable number. We've been worried _sick_."

"I've told you that I'm fine, Mother."

"But you're not fine, are you? You disappeared at the start of the war, then reappeared a few months later. Then a year later you were gone again, without so much as a goodbye. And now look at you! What's _happened_ to you?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"It's like you don't even own a mirror!"

Effie quickly shot Haymitch a warning glance, and the focused her attention back to her mother. Her mother, who was now staring at Haymitch as if she'd seen him for the first time.

"Is that… I know it's not… Euphemia _please_ tell me that's not who I think it is."

"It's _exactly_ who you think it is," Effie said, and now her voice had cooled several degrees. "Believe it or not, I didn't come here to be insulted, or to let you insult him." Effie walked over to Haymitch, who kept his eye on the woman.

It was she he had to worry about, he realized.

"Euphemia, what is the meaning of this?"

"Isn't it obvious Cleara?" Treadmont Trinket finally spoke, his voice softer and filled with slightly less disdain than his wife's. "They're in love."

Cleara gave another dramatic laugh, throwing her head back and clutching her chest in a familiar move that had Haymitch's hair on the back of his neck standing on end. "Don't be _silly_ , Treadmont." And then the smile was gone, quick as lightening, in another signature move. "There is no way our daughter bought a pathetic drunk into our home."

Effie stiffened and Haymitch touched the small of her back, just enough to get her to calm down.

"We're getting married, Mother," Effie stated, and Cleara's eyes traveled down to the ring on her daughter's finger.

"Just because you look plain and simple now doesn't mean you have to _settle_. Over my dead body."

"That can actually be arranged," said Haymitch darkly, speaking for the first time. Cleara slowly turned her eyes towards Haymitch. "I don't really give a flying fuck what you have to say about me—"

" _Haymitch_!" Effie hissed.

"But I don't take too kindly to people insulting my fiancée. It's not very proper, is it?"

"She's _my_ daughter," Cleara said coldly, clearly uncomfortable with being told off about her manners by someone like him. "I know what—and _who_ —is proper for her."

"Bitch you don't know her at all," spat Haymitch, and Effie cringed. "You seriously don't know a damn thing about her."

"Watch your language in my house, boy," Treadmont said, and Haymitch scowled at the man. "Don't call my wife out of her name again."

"She's been hurling abuses at your daughter since she walked in this room. I don't like it. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's probably your bitch of a wife."

"That is _enough_ , Haymitch. She is still my mother." Effie didn't sound upset. She was pleading with him. He bit the inside of his cheek.

Cleara turned to Treadmont. "I _told_ you she was out of control. She's had a thing for him since she was thirteen years old. Do you remember when we went out of town and she had redecorated her entire room? Posters of him _everywhere_. But _you_ said it was just a phase. Now look at her!"

"That's our daughter you're insulting, Cleara."

Cleara looked scandalized. "I am not insulting our daughter! Merely her _choices_ , Treadmont. She's lost her mind. She's parading around with a man who destroyed everything we knew, and now he's got our daughter wrapped around his finger."

"I beg your pardon?" Effie stepped forward, suddenly furious.

"Effie, because of this man your father has had to sell half of his businesses. We're only just now getting back on our feet—"

"He didn't do anything alone. I was right there by his side." The shock of her statement was deafening.

"What?" Effie stared at her parents defiantly. "I… I _defended_ you. You're the only Escort alive, so I'd assumed that they had nothing on you."

"President Snow had me arrested and tortured. That's where I was for those months I disappeared. It was the Rebels who saved me. Katniss granted me immunity, and Haymitch would have never let them touch me. I hated it here. I've hated it since my fifth year as an Escort."

Treadmont blinked, and then nodded as if he finally understood something. "Is that why you quit modeling?"

"Yes! But you wouldn't know that, because you never asked. You have no idea who I am. It's not that far fetched to believe that I fell in love with Haymitch, or that I'm going to marry him. We have a lot in common, you know." Her voice was arctic as she spoke. "I came here today to ask for your blessings, and all I've gotten are your insults. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come." She turned to Haymitch. "You were right. This was a disaster. Let's go."

Haymitch couldn't have left any sooner.

"Effie, wait," her father called, and Effie stopped and turned around. "When are you supposed to wed?"

"On Saturday. A week from today."

Treadmont looked at Cleara, and then looked at Effie. "You're happy. I can tell. Your mother and I… we've always only wanted what was best for you."

"He _is_ what's best for me." Effie could feel the tears, but didn't let them fall.

Treadmont stared at his daughter, and then looked at Haymitch. He'd give the former Victor credit: his eyes never wavered. The two men stared at each other until Treadmont turned back to Effie. "Then you have my blessing," said Treadmont at last.

Cleara's mouth dropped open, and Haymitch couldn't hide his surprise either.

Effie walked up to her father and hugged him. "Thank you, Daddy."

"We should have a toast, to celebrate."

"I'll drink to that," Haymitch said immediately.

"No," said Effie. "Haymitch has been sober for four years." Cleara looked surprised. "I don't need him being tempted." Haymitch nearly pouted. "Goodbye Father, Mother."

"Would you have married him regardless?" Cleara asked them at the door. "Even without your father's blessing?"

Effie slowly turned around, staring her mother in the eye. "Yes, Mother, I would have. Without a second thought. Goodbye."

Haymitch and Effie left, Effie surprised that the cab was still waiting for them.

Treadmont watched them from the door. He saw the way Haymitch helped Effie down the steps, and kept his hand placed firmly on the small of her back. He opened the door for Effie, who faced him and kissed him on the mouth. His hand automatically pulled her in closer, one hand resting on her back, the other on her cheek.

It was intimate, and comforting, and it was a type of kiss he'd never shared with his own wife.

As Effie climbed in the cab, Treadmont realized that his daughter had Haymitch Abernthay, Quarter Quell Victor, eating out of the palm of her hand. Treadmont bet that Haymitch hadn't wanted to come out here, but he had because Effie had asked him to.

At that moment, as he watched Effie leave, he realized that he was quite envious of his daughter.

 _There will be a sequel._


	65. Renovations

_DID ANYONE ELSE WATCH THE WALKING DEAD?! OH MY GOD! AHOHFO IO HOWHIO FH;O NFIOH LMNOP LOL! I EFFING LOVE THAT SHOW! I LOVE MORGAN! I'M SO GLAD HE'S BACK. And of course I love Michonne, Rick, Glenn and Maggie. AND I TOTALLY SHIP CAROL AN DARYL!_

 _Anyway, here's prompt that came from my own head. Hope you like it!_

 **RENOVATIONS**

 **Rated M**

"What do you think, Haymitch?" asked Effie.

Haymitch glared at Effie, scowling. She was, of course, oblivious, because she was staring at the wall, her face scrunched up in concentration. Her sunflower colored hair was pinned up in a sloppy bun, her cheeks slightly red from the summer heat. She had on a grey wife-beater and a pair of his shorts that wouldn't stay up, so she had them rolled up like twenty times around her waist. Her big blue eyes left the wall to look at him.

"I think they're the same fucking color," Haymitch responded.

"Don't be silly," said Effie. "One color is granola, the other is fawn, and—"

"I don't care what they're _called_. My eyes work just fine, Princess. They're the same color."

Effie's eyes narrowed at him, and he knew he was in trouble when she placed her hand on her hips.

"Haymitch Abernathy, I'm here trying to renovate—"

"Didn't ask you to," mumbled Haymitch.

" _Your_ house—"

"It's _our_ house," he corrected, rolling his eyes.

"The _least_ you could do is participate!"

Haymitch groaned and rolled his eyes. "Granola. There, you happy?"

No. No, she wasn't happy. He could tell by the way her eyes turned to slits as she looked at him.

Before she could go off Haymitch spoke. "I did what you asked. I picked a bloody color. Let's just start painting before I relapse."

Effie huffed, but she didn't grab the paintbrushes. She was itching for a fight, apparently. "All I wanted was for you to put your two cents in about this renovation. I could have just taken over, but I wanted to get things _you_ liked, too."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times. I don't fucking _care_. Just do what you want and stay on budget."

"Why don't you care? How difficult is it to have an opinion?"

"When it comes to you, very difficult." He stomped away from her and marched towards the kitchen, scowling.

Figures she'd follow him. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Effie we've redecorated every single room is this damn house, from the guest bedrooms that nobody ever fucking uses to the _attic_ , to the basement, to the Master bedroom—oh, excuse me, master _suite_. We've painted the kitchen yellow—oops, my bad, _dandelion_ , we've refurnished the floors. There are curtains hanging from shuttered windows, the front door is painted, we have new windows. I've been by your side for this project for _six months_ —"

"And you've complained the entire time," she snapped.

"I just want this project over and done with. You went from saying you just wanted to redecorate our bedroom to adding a bloody skylight. _So_ ," Haymitch said, getting louder because Effie was clearly about to interrupt him— talk about rude, "I don't give a flying fuck about what color you want to paint the living room. It's the last bloody room in the whole house that needs to be done, and then I can go back to sleeping at night."

Effie squared her shoulders. "You should _really_ consider what color you want the walls. You'll be spending _a lot_ of time in the living room."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "Well that's just fine, Princess. I purposely picked a comfortable couch."

"Good," smiled Effie sweetly. "Of course it doesn't compare to our California king bed, but I'm sure it'll be a nice substitution for the next _year_."

It was familiar ground, their arguments, and _fuck_ he'd missed it. She'd been so quiet, so un-Effie like her first few months here that he thought he'd go mad from it all. Then she threw him a bone, talking about how dreadful Haymitch's bed was, and he suggested buying a new one, and suddenly Effie Trinket was back.

She had her lists, and her suggestions, and her _schedules_ , and somehow he was dragged along for the ride. Peeta and Katniss helped at first, until Effie and Haymitch started arguing, because despite the fact that she'd been tortured in a cell, she could still annoy the shit out of him.

The first time they had finally slept together since she'd been back had resembled their very first time together simply because one minute they were arguing, the next they were kissing, and then they were all over each other.

That had been the changing point of their relationship, and they quickly fell back into their routine of pointless arguments and heated discussions.

"I'm sure I'll be fine on the couch," Haymitch retorted. "It'll give me a break from you for a while."

She arched an eyebrow, and just like that, it switched. Lust licked its way from his head down to his feet, and it was a mystery how she did that to him. It wasn't _normal_ , and he vowed he'd ask her one day, how she could practically make him beg with just one look.

She hadn't noticed the look in his eye yet. She normally always could, but sometimes he surprised her, like now, as she attempted to stalk past him but instead wound up against his chest.

She scowled and pushed him away, but he followed her, pulling her back to him. His lips were on hers before she could resist, and then he pushed her down on the couch. He saw the fire in her eyes and smirked. She sat up and immediately started unbuckling his pants, and his heartbeat sped up when she gripped him.

She stood up, slithering out of his shorts and her underwear, and he sat down. She immediately sunk down on him, both of them moaning. He sat up a little, giving her room to hook her legs behind him. Her hips started moving in the familiar rhythm and he gripped her hips, grunting her name.

He reached for her tank top, tossing it over his shoulder once it was off. Then he reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall somewhere. His hands were all over her, and she purred, her body reacting to his touches. She had no idea, really, the affect she had on him, and how hard he was working on _calming down_.

"I love you," she whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

He nearly came then, because it was incredible to hear her say it, even if he couldn't say it back. So he showed her, as best as he could, and when she came it was all too easy to follow.

He sighed when they were done, exhausted. He pulled her to him, stroking her back, laying down on his back. She kissed his neck, her hand on his heart.

"I'm sorry," Haymitch told her. "I'm a pain in the ass."

"You just remembered what the California king has to offer as opposed to your couch."

Haymitch snorted but then sobered up quickly. He wished he knew how to explain to her that he really didn't care about any of this: the fact that their bedroom and bathroom had to correlate; that they needed candles and flowers and things to plug in to make their house smell good; that they needed warm throw rugs to cover up the brand new floors they just installed.

"I don't mind that you changed the entire house," said Haymitch, making her look at him. "I'll never care about paint colors, or learn the difference between granola and fawn." Effie rolled her eyes. "I just wanted you to be happy."

"I _am,_ Haymitch. But I wanted you happy too."

"I got you, don't I? You think wallpaper and accessories make this house a home? It doesn't. You do. That's all I needed, and I got that, nearly a year ago, when you showed up on my doorstep, okay?"

Her eyes softened, and she gave him a smile. "Okay. Will you still help me paint the living room?"

Haymitch sighed dramatically. "Of course I will."

They got up and got redressed, and Haymitch helped Effie paint the last wall of their house, even if he'd meant it when he said he didn't care about any of it. He could care less about drapes and tablecloths and countertops.

Effie's greatest renovation had always been, and always would be him, and herself.


	66. I Like You Better

_Movie line Hayffie! I've been getting movie prompts, and it literally opened the floodgates. I've got SO many ideas. Can't wait for you to read them! I have a few 13 prompts written already, but they won't be posted for a while. I do prompts in first come, first serve order, and I still have several more prompts to post in regards to the book world first. I decided to post my own 13 prompt in hopes that it'll get me more 13 prompt suggestions. Enjoy!_

 **I LIKE YOU BETTER**

 **Rated K**

" _You know I like you better, Effie, without all that makeup."_

" _Well I like you better sober."_

The words replayed over and over again in Haymitch's mind as he stared at the ceiling, which was ridiculous, really, because he was a grown man, not a teenaged girl reliving a conversation had with a crush.

The words had fallen out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the slight blush on her cheeks proved that she probably had had her own slip up.

They were crossing lines, unintentionally, but those lines were being crossed nonetheless. He needed to put a stop to it, but the _real_ question was, wasn't it too late? Hadn't it been too late the minute he decided to bring her to 13?

They hadn't been happy with him because of that. Plutarch had warned him that Effie wouldn't be welcome with open arms, but he hadn't cared. They were a team, and he wasn't going to leave her out to dry, not after Cinna told him that she was on their side.

She was useful, and intelligent as hell, so as far as Haymitch was concerned, he had made the right decision. Sure she _still_ stood out like a sore thumb, but at least she wasn't parading around in pointless costumes. Now she walked around in sweater dresses and long button-downs she turned into dresses. She even made lab coats look good.

It hadn't taken her long to figure out that she wasn't really welcomed here, but on his orders nobody messed with her. Not even Coin. Especially not Coin. Plus Haymitch actually had Katniss on his side about something—for once.

Effie was off limits, even to the President of 13, rules be damned. He was Haymitch Abernathy. He didn't _have_ rules. And if he wanted his Escort in 13, he'd have his Escort in 13.

No one would stop him.

Try as they may.

And they _did_ try.

Like today, when Haymitch had bought Effie along for the meeting to convince them to let Katniss go to 12. Coin had pitched a fit.

"What is _she_ doing here?" asked Coin.

"The _she_ you're referring to has a name," he had responded coldly. "It's Effie. And _Effie_ is here because I invited her here. She's needed."

Plutarch and Katniss had seemed to understand how valuable Effie was. She had had a few good suggestions, mentioning how Katniss had volunteered for Prim and the way she sang for Rue.

And then—

"You know I like you better, Effie, without all that makeup."

"Well I like you better sober."

It made his stomach do funny, stupid things that forced him to remind himself, once again, that he was not a teenaged high-school girl. He was being ridiculous. He was an adult, an adult _male_ , in the middle of a war. He didn't have time for reliving conversations because he had a crush on Effie.

 _Crush_? Haymitch nearly laughed aloud in the dark. _That_ was a strong word. He didn't have a crush on Effie. He was _attracted_ to her, sure, but that was it. Of course that was it. A crush would be… it'd be treason. Unacceptable. Ridiculous.

A soft knock on his bedroom door broke his train of thought. He lifted his head as the door slid open, and who else walked in but Effie?

"Haymitch?" she called softly. "You up?" She was calm, which meant there was no immediate threat to her life or safety.

"No," responded Haymitch, lying back down.

"I'm cold."

"Probably because you're out of bed, and it's late." When she didn't say anything for a few minutes he lifted his head. She was just standing there, in the middle of his room. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Do you wanna get in, Princess?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before she was next to him, and he wondered what magic 13 housed to make them behave this way. In twenty years they hardly shared a couch, yet here they were, currently snuggled in bed together.

And they were most definitely _snuggled_ together, because somehow her face ended up buried in his chest, and his arms mystically wrapped themselves around her waist.

"Are you warmer now?" he asked.

"Yes." She wiggled a little, getting more comfortable, and then looked up at him. "Are you going to stay up all night now so you won't have a nightmare?" Haymitch looked at her. "It's what you did when you let me sleep with you when we left 11, after I'd had my nightmares."

"I haven't had alcohol in a month. I'm more prone to the nightmares without it. I'll probably stay up til dawn, yes, so I can wake you and send you back off to your room before someone sees us. Then I'll probably get a few hours of sleep before I'm needed in Command."

Effie frowned into the night. "Should I go? You need your rest."

"I'm fine. You're fine. Go to sleep."

Effie rested her head on his chest and he smiled into the night. A few minutes later she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said into the night.

"For?"

"For liking you better sober, even though it hurts you."

His stomach did that flip-flop thing again, and again, he ignored it. "Well I'm not sorry I like you better without the makeup. You _do_ look better without it all. I've been trying to tell you that for years."

She looked at him, her eyes reading his, even in the dark.

"You think you're paying me a compliment, so thank you."

"That _is_ a compliment. You're beautiful."

Great. Now he really was acting like a female.

Effie blushed, and then suddenly her lips were on his. The kiss was soft, but also sure, and he found himself responding almost immediately.

It wasn't their first kiss. They'd shared a few desperate kisses together while he was drunk, or she was tipsy, or when they were both drunk. They shared a ton of kisses when they were mad at each other. It was the easiest way to shut the other one up. They'd only shared a few genuine kisses, though: on the Victory Tour, the night they left 11, the day of the Reaping, when she thought she was telling him goodbye; and the morning after she'd been sent home because of Cinna's Mockingjay dress stunt.

But _this_ one was different. In all the above instances he'd either been drinking, had been recovering from drinking, or was already finished drinking. This time it was none of that. There was nothing that he could use to make an excuse for what he did.

He was kissing her, and he liked it, though he could do without the girly butterflies.

When she pulled away she licked her lips, nodding. "Yah. I _definitely_ like you better sober."

He smirked, and kissed her again.


	67. Roles to Play

_Just another scenario on how Haymitch found out Effie was involved. I ended up LOVING this one._

 **ROLES TO PLAY**

 **Rated M for language**

Haymitch and Effie walked into the penthouse, utterly spent. It was late, nearly five o'clock in the morning. The sun was starting to rise and bits of yellow peeked through the penthouse window, casting a soft, warm glow on the living room.

"I had no idea thanking Sponsors took so long," sighed Effie. Haymitch snorted. It wasn't just Sponsors that had taken up all their time. First there was the Escort's Victory Ball and the Victor's Ball, where Escorts congratulated their fellow Escort and Mentors congratulated their fellow Mentor. Then Haymitch had to go and meet with the surgeons and make sure they didn't alter Katniss. After that there were Interviews, which always took forever. Then lastly they had to thank Sponsors. "I have no idea how you stay up all night," Effie finished.

Haymitch didn't respond. He just immediately headed to the bar, pouring himself a glass and drinking it. Effie watched as the drink literally made him stand a little straighter. She watched as it took its affect, supplying him like the addict he was.

"Get some rest, Haymitch," said Effie softly. "We have a meeting I need you present for in a few hours."

"Sure thing, Princess."

At nine o'clock sharp, Haymitch was up and ready, dressed for the day, and walking into the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Cinna, Portia, and Effie, all seated in the living room. They all looked at him as he looked at them.

"What's going on?" he asked, walking towards them. He noticed the interference Beetee designed. It sat on the table, disguised as a radio. He felt his heart lurch into his stomach.

Effie stood up. She looked at him, taking a deep breath. "We need to talk," she said, walking up to him, her heels echoing in the silence of the room. Haymitch kept his eyes on her, and then glanced to Cinna and Portia.

He took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

This time Effie took a deep breath. "Everybody in this room knows what those berries mean."

The silence was deafening.

Haymitch heard her, but didn't hear her.

He knew he hadn't imagined the words coming out her mouth, though, because they were all watching him intently. They were trying to see how he'd react. He didn't react, though. Not immediately. He just kept staring at her, reading her eyes.

And then his Seam grey eyes rested on Cinna's brown ones. "What the _fuck_ have you been telling her?"

Cinna stared at Haymitch. "I haven't told her anything. She's been giving me information."

Haymitch blinked. "So… you're telling me… that everything we've discussed… has come from Effie?" They all slowly heard as the rage escalated with each word Haymitch spoke.

"Yes," Cinna said simply.

Haymitch stayed silent as he made his rounds, staring at them all, one by one. "Bullshit."

"Is it that hard to believe?" Effie's voice held a hint of suppressed rage as well.

Haymitch looked at her, his eyes hard. "Of fucking _course_ it is! You're fucking _Effie Trinket_! Got damn it I've watched you pick kids name for twenty fucking years!"

"Damn you! It's not my fault you've been too blind and _drunk_ to see the truth." The fury in her voice was unmistakable, her eyes flashing.

He snarled at her. "You have no business in a fucking Revolution, Trinket. What the hell would you be fighting for? What would be the purpose? What the hell have _you_ ever lost?"

"What has Plutarch ever lost? Or Cinna or Portia for that matter?" shot back Effie. "And I've lost thirty-eight Tributes. That's who I lost, Haymitch. I still know their names, you know. They haunt my dreams. I can still see their faces."

"Good! You should! You fucking killed them. You picked their names."

The slap she gave him echoed around the penthouse a few times.

"We all have bloody roles to play, Haymitch!" She slapped him again, this time making his cheek turn red. "You think it's _easy_? Citizens of the Capitol are controlled too, you know. You have no _idea_ what I've sacrificed. And what's even worse is you don't even _care_. After twenty years, you don't know me anymore than when I walked into your home, introducing myself." She turned away when she felt the tears coming. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't dare give him the satisfaction.

"All I fucking know," Haymitch said, "is that you're a Capitol bitch. You live, breathe, and adore the Capitol. I don't need to know anything else about you."

"Haymitch, you're wrong," said Cinna. "How do you think I got this job? It was Effie. Not Plutarch. That was all Effie. She _is_ a Rebel, Haymitch."

"Bull _shit_ ," Haymitch repeated.

"Why's is it so hard for you to believe?"

"Why? _Why_?" Haymitch belted out a humorous laugh. " _Look_ at you. Look at you in your pink fucking wig and your pink fucking suit with your pink fucking lips. Everything about you screams Capitol."

"And you're a bloody _drunk_ , Haymitch, but I _never_ for one second doubted that you could lead this entire Revolution!"

That shut Haymitch up.

"You're the bravest, smartest man I know. And President Snow was a _fool_ to mess with you. He had no idea what he was setting himself up for." Effie stood by the bar, staring at Haymitch, her voice thick with emotion. "And there is no doubt in my mind that war is coming. He will not take too kindly to two Tributes from District 12 openly defying him. He _will_ strike back. And we have to do this _together_ Haymitch. We _have_ to. We're a team, damn it."

Haymitch stared at her for a long time. "I don't get in bed with the fucking Capitol," he finally spat at her.

He never even saw the bottle heading towards him. He ducked, just in time, and actually stepped back several feet as Effie approached him.

"You son of a bitch," snapped Effie, and Haymitch realized she looked murderous. Cinna was there, in an instant, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her away. She clawed at Cinna, even as he covered her mouth to cover the obscenities she was screaming at Haymitch.

Haymitch stood there, stunned, until Portia stood in front of him. "You are the most stubborn asshole I've ever met," she told him. "I have no clue what Effie sees in you. Cinna says you're brilliant, but frankly I don't see it. You have the most incredible woman, right in front of your face, and you're too blind, stupid, and dumb to see it. Effie is _brilliant_. You have no idea how much she risks. You have no _clue_ what she does when she's not picking kids names."

Portia stared at him with disdain, and shaking her head, she stalked off. Haymitch walked towards the bar, too astonished to do anything else. Portia reached the hallway and then stopped, turning around.

"You know what I think? I think you like things just the way they are. You like the division. You like the black and white of it being Capitol versus District. Only it doesn't actually work like that anymore, Haymitch. You keep drinking. You drink until your heart's content. Pass out if you want. But it won't change anything. You might as well accept it now. Effie is one of us. Get over it."

Haymitch stayed there, for several minutes. After a while Portia and Cinna walked back into the living room. Portia waited by the elevator while Cinna approached him.

"I could kill you for the way you just acted," he said fiercely. "Effie is…" Cinna searched for the right word. "She's perfection personified, Haymitch. It hasn't been easy for her, living a double life. She's on our side. Deal with it."

With that, they were gone.

Haymitch waited a few more minutes before he finally made his way to Effie's room.

"Do you think you could warn me next time you wanna have a big scene in front of everyone?" he snarled.

She turned and faced him, a smile on her face. "You were incredible," she told him. "I _had_ to tell you this way, though. It had to be authentic. You're a Rebel, not an actor, and we needed to be convincing. We can't have anyone… suspect." She walked up to him, and cupped his cheeks. "I'm sorry I slapped you."

"Twice. You slapped me twice. _And_ you threw a bottle at my head."

"Yes, well, that last statement hit a little too close to home. You, not going to bed with the Capitol."

She kissed his lips, gently, and he pulled her to him, deepening the kiss.

"I don't. I hate all things Capitol." He kissed her again. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he whispered once they broke apart.

"Absolutely. I've already been in contact with Plutarch." Haymitch remembered the way Plutarch and Effie hugged last night, and the way he was whispering in her ear. "He told me it was time to tell you."

"I always knew you were a fucking rebel." He rubbed his hands over his face. "You were too… meticulous. And something changed, after the 60th Games. I could never quite put my hand on it. But then Katniss buried Rue, and you gave yourself away. You tensed, and there was this frown on your face. You've slipped a few times over the years, Princess."

"Well I can't be perfect all the time," she grinned. Then she sobered up. "That was the night we slept together for the first time. The night Katniss buried Rue."

Yah, it was. Haymitch didn't comment, though. She had suspected that he suspected, but she never thought he knew for certain. She supposed sleeping together should have been a clue.

"I want you to know Portia told me off, and Cinna threatened to kill me," said Haymitch.

Effie laughed. "They're my friends. And they think you hate me."

"I do hate you. You're fucking annoying." He pulled her to him again. "But if you're really in this thing, I need you to be more careful. I was serious when I said you slipped. You need to make sure you're playing your part."

Effie arched an eyebrow. "Gee, I had no idea you cared." She'd meant it as a joke, but he scowled.

"Things are different now, Trinket. You're one of us. If you die, I'm going to be very pissed. I can't take you with me in the end, so you'll have to play your part well in order to be safe in the Capitol."

"I know," she said, wrapping her arms around him. He frowned at her. "I do," said Effie firmly. "Haven't I already won an Oscar today? We all have our roles to play."

He nodded. "Yes we do." He kissed her one more time. "And speaking of roles, we better get going. We have Interviews."

"You sound like me," she said with a smile.

"Yah, well, I guess you're a bloody influence on me." He frowned and she laughed.

She stepped back, straightening her dress. She cleared her throat, forcing her Capitol smile on her face. "How do I look?"

"Fucking hideous." Then he smirked at her. "I can't wait to rip that dress off of you when this is all said and done."

"Don't make me break character, Haymitch. Don't forget: we're at odds around Cinna and Portia."

"It won't be that difficult to pretend to be mad at you. I don't want you involved in this Rebellion. It's dangerous."

"Too late," she said as she walked towards the doors. Before opening it she took a deep breath. "Lights, camera action," she muttered, and she opened the door.

They walked out together, playing the role they knew best: Mentor and Escort.

 _That little twist in the end came out of nowhere, literally in the middle of writing. I was trying to figure out how to make this Hayffie, and then it hit me! I hope you guys liked it!_


	68. Knock, Knock

" _Wonderful work as usual :) Just had a binge reading all your work - everything is fabulous! Not too sure if this has been done (you'll probably cover this in He's the fire): could you please write a piece on when Effie comes knocking on Haymitchs door after the war? Thanks!" Here ya go, Nkneeshaw! FYI, this is DRASITCALLY different then what I'll do in He's Fire. There are literally ONE MILLION scenarios, seasons, timeframes that Effie returns to Haymitch in my head. Each prompt literally makes me think of something different, so this is totally unique. The word "knocking" literally sparked something._

 _FYI, I won't do all prompts I receive. If I don't_ _ **feel**_ _it, I can't write. So it's something too O/C, I won't write it. Just FYI. I've gotten a few inappropriate and/or unrealistic fan fics. I believe in using my imagination, but only to some extent. Also, just because I don't do your prompt, doesn't mean I think it's inappropriate or anything. Sometimes I just can't write a certain prompt. It's never personal._

 _With that said—I could use more 13 prompts. Remember to leave them in Reviews. Ya'll are awesome sauce!_

 **KNOCK, KNOCK**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch squinted as his door, wondering who the hell was knocking. The kids never knocked. Why would they? Then he remembered there was only one person who ever knocked.

His next-door neighbor's kid. _Why_ her parents let her come over was beyond him. What was her name? Something like Fringe or Chime? She was seven, and apparently sweet on him, which proved that they lived in a whole new world, when little girls had time for crushes. Katniss didn't have her first crush until her pretend boyfriend got kidnapped and turned into a mutt. Then her _other_ crush blew up her kid sister.

Another persistent knock made him lose his train of thought, which was probably for the best.

He sighed, knowing that the little girl— _Tassel,_ that was her name—liked to play this game.

 _Knock, knock_.

"Who's there?" slurred Haymitch, attempting unsuccessfully to sit up. He was at least able to screw the top on his bottle of liquor. She was clumsy, that girl was, and he didn't need her spilling any of his liquor.

"Effie."

 _Effie_? Where was the little squirt going with that? He scrunched up his face, trying to think of words a seven-year-old might say that'd include Effie: effectively, efficacy? He didn't know that many, how many could a child know? He'd heard a lot of knock-knock jokes over the course of his life, and he'd heard them _all_ since she'd started coming over, but this one took the cake.

Or maybe she never said Effie. Maybe that's just what he heard, because he had been thinking about her. He was _always_ thinking about her.

"Effie who?" he finally asked.

"Do you know more than one?"

 _What the hell_?

"It's Effie, Haymitch. Effie _Trinket_."

Haymitch stilled, stunned, and totally confused. He glanced at his bottle of liquor, wondering if, like with drugs, someone could make a bad batch. He'd hallucinated Effie before, especially back in 13, but normally he was asleep and dreaming about her, not wide-awake.

At least he thought he was awake.

"Do you not want me here? Should I go?"

Haymitch sat up suddenly, the room spinning. He was used to that though, so he still found a way to stand up and stumble his way to the door. He swung open the door, unsure of what to expect.

Effie Trinket stood in his doorway, clear as day, but he wasn't sure if she were a fantasy or not. She looked… different, but in a good way. Her hair was pinned back with a pearl clip, her face bare for the most part, minus a little blush and lipstick, and she wore a light green dress that made her look like a normal woman.

He blinked at her, because he was afraid that he if he spoke to her she'd disappear, or worse, the neighbors would see him talking to thin air when they glanced out their window.

"Are you going to invite me in?" she finally asked.

He stared at her suspiciously. "Are you real?"

She gave him a faint smile. "You're drunk," said Effie, moving passed him and bumping him with something. He looked down and noticed a suitcase. It was pink. She stood in front of him and they stared at each other for a few minutes. "Is it that hard to believe I'm here?"

"It's been five years," Haymitch responded.

"Yah, I know," said Effie softly. "I'm sorry it took me so long. Am I… I mean… is it too late?"

Too late? Too late for what? To come back to him? To show him what'd he'd been missing all those years? To help him forget everything he'd gone through? Too late to love him?

"It's okay if I am,'" she blushed.

"Is it?" blurted out Haymitch, because he didn't want it to be okay.

"Of course it is. I couldn't expect you to wait around forever, could I?" She had on that painted smile he loathed so much, and her voice was suddenly several octaves higher. "I shouldn't have come unannounced like this. It was rude of me."

She started to walk back towards the door when Haymitch grabbed her. He placed her back in front of him and just looked at her. He didn't say a word. He just waited for the magic moment, relieved when finally saw her mask slipping away. Her smile faltered and her eyes grew sorrowful.

"You're not okay," he said matter-of-factly.

She shrunk under his gaze. "No," whispered Effie.

He cupped her cheeks, finally accepting that she was real. "Me neither."

"I'm still so broken, Haymitch."

"Me too," he shrugged.

"I shouldn't burden you."

He rolled his eyes and pulled her into him. "We're two broken souls. Maybe together we can mend each other or become one whole soul. Something corny like that."

Effie laughed out a sob and he held her closer. "You sure it's not too late?"

He kissed the top of her head, noting the way his heart sped up as she held him. No matter how much time had passed, or how much things had changed, Haymitch was quite convinced _this_ , the way she made him feel, would always be. "No, Princess. You're definitely the best thing that's knocked on my door in a long time."


	69. Things That Lovers Do

_Had this in my head for a while and wasn't sure where I was going with it, so I decided to write it out. It's okay. I've done better._

 **THINGS THAT LOVERS DO**

 **Rated K**

"You wanna stop at the bakery and grab a donut?" asked Haymitch, the groceries in his hand.

"You _know_ I'm trying to watch my weight, Haymitch," Effie sighed as a gust of fall wind blew. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because you don't need to watch your weight. You're still too damn skinny."

"I've gained my weight back, and then some." The leaves crunched under their feet, and Effie felt like the leaves crunched more than they did back when she was younger.

"Well that's what happens when you…." Haymitch stopped himself, and damn it to hell if wasn't almost blushing. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway. Him and Effie were definitely _something_ , but he wasn't sure what. "You haven't gained back enough weight, Princess."

"I can't fit into any of my old dresses anymore," she told him, and there was a faint blush on her own cheeks. Whether it was from his near admission or hers, he didn't know.

" _That_ is a blessing, trust me."

She frowned and looked down at herself. He rolled his eyes. Effie had come back to him a year after the war looking like most of the kids from the Seam. All her clothes hung off her body like rags, and it broke him. He immediately started ordering certain meals from the Capitol once he realized she couldn't keep down 12's food just yet. Gradually she started to gain weight back. Mix that with the fact that they were practically married… she might have packed on a few extra pounds.

But they were in _all_ the right places.

"You look better than me," he told her.

"I do _not_ ," said Effie. " _You_ … you're better, Haymitch," she said softly.

"Yah, thanks to you. You somehow magically got me off the bottle, and I needed _something_ to do with my time. And they built that stupid gym in Town…." He frowned.

"You're as handsome as when you won. Better than I've ever seen you, that's for sure."

Haymitch glanced at her. "You too, Princess," he said, bumping her lightly.

She blushed, but looked pleased. "Oh what the heck. Let's go get a donut."

Haymitch snorted and they made their way to Peeta's.

Peeta's eyes brightened at the sight of them. He waved them over, the bakery empty, and immediately handed them a plate of cookies. They weren't donuts, but they'd do just fine. The tag on them said pumpkin spice. He frowned at that. Sounded like something the Capitol would make.

He was about to say something, be it to Peeta or Effie, he wasn't sure, when another customer walked in.

Effie looked behind her and gasped. " _Spens_?" she gaped.

Haymitch didn't like the way she said his name, so he turned around to look. The man was clearly Capitol. Polished. Distinguished. Light purple hair. Flamboyant suit.

He looked at her, giving her a once over. "Do I know you?"

Effie faltered, and blushed furiously. "I… uh… it's—"

"Effie?" He looked at her again, up and down, from head to toe. "Effie _Trinket_?"

"Yes. I suppose it's been a long time."

"It certainly has. Probably like three or four years, right? You look…"

"Different, I know," blushed Effie.

"I was going to say ordinary, but different works too."

Effie had forgotten how blunt the Capitol could be.

"You're still beautiful, though. You certainly turned heads your entire life, that's for sure." Effie blushed again. "I had heard rumors of you moving to 12, but I never believed them. What would you do out here?"

Effie felt her back go up, and she noticed Peeta and Haymitch both tense.

"12 is my home," she said rather coldly.

He seemed genuinely shocked. "Well aren't you just full of surprises? If I had known you were here I'd have stayed an extra night to take you to dinner."

"Really? Wherever would you take her?" Haymitch's voice was as mean as a snake.

"I'm sure there's some place," Spens said without taking his eyes off of Effie. "They say this bakery has the best cake in town. Can I treat you to a slice?"

"I should get going," said Effie, shaking her head. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, Paylor needed someone to check on the progress of the hospital here." He peered at her, and Haymitch felt his hands start to twitch. "You know, pretty soon all the Districts will have access to the internet. You can order your makeup from the Capitol."

"She doesn't need any of that," Haymitch said.

Again, not looking at Haymitch, Spens spoke. "Well I don't expect you to know any better, but Effie knows how she looks isn't proper."

"I think it's time you left," and it was Peeta's suppressed rage in his voice that had Spens finally looking away from Effie.

"Oh my God! You're Peeta Mellark! You're the last Victor of the Hunger Games. Well the last _true_ Victor, I suppose. I was actually rooting for you and Katniss. Of course I wanted Haymitch to go back, he'd be the first Quarter Quell Victor to go back into a Quarter Quell."

Effie felt her heart drop.

"Whatever happened to that old drunk? Probably fallen in a ditch somewhere—"

Effie didn't even remember moving, but she certainly felt the pain when her fist connected with Spens' face. He had a few seconds to look shocked before he fell back.

Haymitch's hand was on the small of her back in an instant. Peeta was there within a breath. At that exact moment Katniss walked through the door. She had her game bag over her shoulder but her bow was up in an instant, her face lethal.

"Everybody, calm down," said a booming voice, and they all turned to see Cornell, Peeta's Assistant Manager, a gun in his hand. He'd just come from the back.

"We're okay," Haymitch said immediately. "Lower your weapons. _All_ of you," he said pointedly, narrowing his eyes at Katniss.

Peeta looked confused as Katniss lowered her bow. He stared at Cornell. "What's going on?"

"He's a plant," Haymitch answered. "There's dozens of them in 12, to make sure you two are protected." As if that settled the matter, and didn't raise more questions than answers, Haymitch turned back to Effie. "Are you okay? What the hell was that about? You don't go around _punching_ people. That's usually reserved for me."

"That… he… what an _imbecile_! How _dare_ he?"

"What, cus he insulted your face? We'll he's Capitol, he's not that bright."

"I don't care what he said about _me_. But he shouldn't have insulted you."

Haymitch just blinked at her. Then he turned back to Cornell. "You know who to call about the puppet." He turned to Katniss. "Your bow is not a weapon anymore, Sweetheart. Stop pointing it at people." Katniss scowled as Haymtich turned back to Effie. "And you? Let's get you home."

They walked out the bakery, Effie still obviously upset.

"Calm down. It's not a big deal. It's not the first time someone's said something about me."

"How do you just… brush it off?"

Haymitch shrugged. "His opinion means nothing." He stared at her, saw that she was still annoyed. He wrapped his arm around her waist. "Don't worry about it. But I must say, it certainly was nice seeing you go off on someone other than me. I learned something new."

"What?"

"You're quite beautiful when you're angry."

"Stop _teasing_ me, Haymitch."

"I'm serious," he told her. "And he was very lucky you punched him. I was about to do it myself. I didn't like the way you said his name." He bit his tongue when the words slipped out. She looked at him.

"Are you jealous?"

"No," mumbled Haymitch. "But only because you punched him."

Effie laughed. "You're impossible."

"Yah, well, I better not see him around here again. I'm calling Paylor and seeing to that soon as I get in the house." He pushed open the gates of Victor's Village.

"Really?" asked Effie. "Such a shame. I had something else in mind all together."

"What?" Haymitch asked.

Effie stopped him by touching his shoulder, and then faced him. "Meet me upstairs in the bedroom and find out."

Haymitch stood there for quite a few moments, stunned, before his brain reminded him to _move_.

He didn't even put up the groceries. He wasn't even sure he'd closed the door all the way.

He still didn't know what he and Effie were. She was possessive, and he was jealous, and they defended each other. They were fiercely protective of the other. They fought, but oh could they also make up. They didn't have a title. Maybe he'd marry her one day, maybe he wouldn't. They were a mix of lovers and friends, and they behaved as lovers behaved. They went _grocery_ shopping together for heaven's sake.

And he thought he'd be okay with that, if he spent the rest of life with Effie Trinket, doing the things that lovers do.


	70. First Snow Fall

_Posted this before, but not in Loosen Your Corset, and I thought it was a nice little fluff piece. Hope you all enjoy it_.

 **FIRST SNOW FALL**

 **Rated K**

Effie walked down the stairs and smiled fondly at the man sprawled out on his back across the couch. He had one hand over his eyes, the other hand resting across his chest.

The fact that his chest was rising and falling made her want to jump on him and kiss him all over.

They'd almost lost each other once.

About a year and a half ago. It might seem like a long time, but to them… well, there were still some nights he held her so tightly because he was afraid that if he let her go she might be taken again.

And there were certainly nights she kicked him, and clawed at him, fighting some invisible enemy who was dead…. Dead at his hands.

She tried to be respectful of his sleeping pattern. Most of the time he stayed up all night—he still hated the dark, and he'd kill himself before he put them in a situation where he'd hurt her with his knife due to a nightmare—and watched her while she slept, making sure she was safe.

When dawn came, though, he usually made his way downstairs and got comfortable on the couch, where if he had a nightmare, he'd only hurt himself.

She'd learned to keep quiet until he woke, normally around the afternoon.

But today was different.

She took one look outside and gasped loudly. "Oh my God Haymitch," she exclaimed. "It's snowing!"

"Huh?" asked Haymitch groggily.

"It's _snowing_!"

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "It does that every year, Princess," he responded sarcastically.

"Haymitch come play in it with me!"

She sounded so damned excited that he almost got up. Instead he scowled. "Woman I watch you sleep all night every night. Perhaps you could grant me the same courtesy, eh?"

"Oh," said Effie softly. "You're right. That was rude of me." Her face appeared behind the couch and she smiled at him. "Go back to sleep."

She brushed his hair away from his face and bent down over the arm of the couch and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

The things that woman could do to him with those lips.

He held in a shiver as she made her way back upstairs.

He was just dozing off again we heard her clunking back down the stairs. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking at her dressed in an oversized coat—his, a pair of gray sweats—his, and a pair of snow boots—again, his. He watched as she made her way to the door.

" _What_ are you doing?" he asked her.

"I'm going to go playing in it."

She was mental. He shook his head and lied back down, but the guilt started to eat away at him.

Damn it. She always did that. He had never been able to pinpoint exactly when he fell for her—and he'd certainly tried over the years—but at times like this he missed the days when he didn't give a flying eff word.

But those days were gone, and damn it, this was her first time seeing snow fall.

There was no snow in the Capitol.

And he had promised himself that he'd give her whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it, so with an annoyed sigh he got up off of the couch and made his own way upstairs, changing into something warm. Then he made his way back downstairs, grabbing himself a cup of white liquor, and made his way out the door, to find Effie throwing snow in the air and sticking out her tongue to catch it.

"You're insane, you know that?" called Haymitch, and her body stiffened. She lowered herself to the ground.

"Oh really?" she asked, slowly turning around, taking special care to keep her hands hidden behind her back.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. "Whatever you're thinking, Princess, I'd think twice about—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as a snowball hit him square in the face.

The blasted woman had great aim.

"Effie," he snapped, and then another snowball hit him.

He glared at her, slamming his glass down on the table by the door, and marched up to her. She squealed and started to run, but really she was no match for him in his boots.

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. "Stop it. Now."

He gasped when the snowball hit him in the head, and he blinked away the snow falling into his eyes.

"That's _it_!" He picked her up and then forced them both to fall into the snow. Then he rolled her over so that he was on top of her, her body pressed in the snow.

She gasped and he laughed as she started to squirm. He kept her pinned down and gathered a handful of snow, and dropped it on her face.

With surprising strength she wrapper he legs around his waist and somehow ended up on top of him.

It was war.

They were like kids again, the way they were acting, but the morning was filled with endless laughter. They could see some of the neighbors poking their heads out, some of them shaking their heads, but they didn't care.

They lost track of how long they were out there, but when Haymitch tackled her to the ground again they were out of breath and their cheeks were red with cold.

She sighed softly, wiping the snow out of his hair.

He nipped her lip and she shivered, kissing him back, and he was pretty sure the snow was starting to melt around them.

Hands started traveling, and kisses got deeper, and pretty soon they forgot where they were, until—

"Oh get a room for crying out loud." Katniss' voice rang out with mock irritation, and then Peeta laughed, good-naturedly.

Haymitch reluctantly let go of Effie, staring at her.

"Should we…?" he asked.

"Oh, absolutely," agreed Effie. The two of them slowly got off the ground—they weren't exactly spring chicken anymore—but not before gathering handfuls of snowballs.

Then they turned to their two Tributes and started throwing.

Gasps of surprise and alarm filled the air, until Katniss and Peeta advanced on them, and suddenly the four of them were playing together. At one point Katniss and Haymitch teamed up together, then it was girls verses boys, and when they decided to do Victors against Escort Effie ran into the house, declaring that it was _rude_ for her to be outnumbered.

An hour later, after showers and changing, the four of them sat around Katniss and Peeta's kitchen, drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies, the fireplace blazing.

He was exhausted. His body ached. His hands were still numb.

But he couldn't quite get rid of the smile on his face.


	71. Of Old Kisses & New Traditions

_Prompt:_ _ **"**_ _You're so awesome - I was thinking of a New Years kiss but I don't know if that's something they would celebrate..." Thank you, nkneeshaw, for allowing me to write a little bit of fluff!_

 **OF OLD KISSES AND NEW TRADITIONS**

 **Rated T+ (I added the plus because it's borderline smut. Nothing too detailed, though).**

"What do you think about this one?" Effie asked for the billionth time, and Haymitch groaned and banged his head against the wall. Effie let him throw his tantrum until he turned to her.

"I told you, I like the gold one the best."

"Are you sure?" Effie walked over to the bed and picked up the gold dress, frowning. "I don't know, Haymitch…."

"What's wrong with it?"

"You don't think it's… too flashy?"

Haymitch stared at her like she was crazy. "Too _flashy_? Compared to the wigs and costumes you used to parade around in—" Haymitch clamped his mouth shut. Of course. How could he be so stupid? He sighed and walked up to her, taking special care not to step on any of the thousands of dresses cluttering their bedroom floor. "Princess, no one's going to say anything about how dressed up you are. First of all, people around here _like_ you. You know _The Last Escort_ sold out in an hour? There's a back order on hold for that DVD that's a mile long."

"That movie was nothing like our lives," sighed Effie.

"Right, but it showed people that you were on our side. You have friends here, Effie. Hell, the Town came to _you_ about organizing this thing. Secondly, nobody is nearly as poor as they used to be. Everybody's going to be dressed up." Effie took a deep, calming breath, and Haymitch wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "Put on the gold dress, Princess. Everyone will love you in it."

"You promise it doesn't make me look like an Escort?" Her voice was quiet, and showed how truly insecure she was about this whole ordeal, and he hated it. He hated seeing Effie vulnerable, because vulnerable Effie was the woman who'd shown up on his doorstep three years after the war looking as broken as ever.

Haymitch rolled his eyes at the thought and pushed her away so that she could look at him. "If I like the dress, that should be all the answer you need."

She gave him a slow smile. "That's true." She turned around and he started untying the grey dress she had on without her having to ask. "Why do you like the gold one?"

"Because it looks sexy as hell, and it'll be the easiest to take off." He smiled at her when she shot him a look, and she shook her head, a faint smile on her lips.

She wiggled out of the dress and Haymitch stared at the black lace panties and matching bra and realized that suddenly he didn't want to go to this stupid New Year's Eve Party after all. He'd much rather stay in.

Effie had just made it to the bed, where her gold dress lay, when he snaked his arms around her from behind, pulling her into him. She laughed and allowed him to kiss her neck and shoulder, but hit him when his hands squeezed her breasts.

"Absolutely not," she stated. "We can't be late for the first New Year's Eve Ball."

"Don't wanna go," mumbled Haymitch, kissing her neck again. He knew that was her spot. She sighed and turned around, pulling his tie and bringing her face to his. She kissed him, and he was pretty sure he could slip into her in like two seconds, when suddenly they heard someone calling their name.

"Oh! The kids are already here!" And suddenly Effie was grabbing her gold dress and sprinting off to the bathroom. Haymitch barely had time to figure out what the hell had just happened before he realized he very much wanted to _kill_ the boy and girl. They were like real children. Toddlers, who were infamous for interrupting their parents, and always at the worst possible time.

"Haymitch? Effie?" called Katniss again.

"We'll be down in a minute," he barked. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, straightening himself, scowling all the while. When Effie reappeared in her gold dress, backwards no less, so that he could zip her up, he thought about just bending her over really quickly, until he heard Peeta clomping up the stairs. They could never get any privacy.

There was a faint knock on the door, and then Effie, after a quick thank you to Haymitch, was answering the door.

"Peeta you look _so_ handsome!" exclaimed Effie.

"Thank you. You look great. One of Cinna's designs?"

"Of course."

"Could you tie my tie? I don't know how, and neither does Katniss."

"Of course! Come on in."

"Thanks. Hey, Haymitch."

Haymitch just scowled, but he doubted the boy noticed. He was looking at all the dresses on the floor.

"I couldn't decide on what to wear," Effie said sheepishly as she followed his gaze. "I've had major designers pick my outfits for major events since I was thirteen. I've realized that without their help, I am quite indecisive."

"Well you chose the right one. You look stunning."

"Haymitch picked it." Peeta stared at his Mentor, surprised. "Don't look so shocked," smiled Effie. "I've been picking out his clothes for years. He could return the favor _once_." She shot Haymitch an amused glance and he smirked. "Speaking of picking out clothes, this tie is horrid, and no son of mine would be caught dead in it."

Peeta stood stock-still and stared at Effie, his eyes wide.

"Peeta? What is it?" Effie stared at him in concern, Haymitch jolting forward, wondering if the boy was having a flashback.

"You called me your son," he whispered, and Haymitch stopped. Effie looked flustered.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all. It's just… you usually call us Tributes."

This time Effie stilled. "Does _that_ make you uncomfortable?"

"No, that's not…." Peeta paused. "We _are_ your Tributes. But you call us your kids too. Son didn't sound so bad. Maybe… I mean… isn't that what this holiday is about? It's _New Years_. New ideas, new thoughts, new beginnings, new traditions."

Effie blinked, her eyes suddenly misting. "Yes," she whispered. "You're right. From here on out, you can be my son."

Peeta smiled, and Effie hurriedly turned away, blinking rapidly. She made her way to Haymitch's tie drawer, rummaging around, tossing ties through the air left and right.

"The one you're looking for is right here," said Haymitch, taking pity on her, and he pulled out the exact tie she was searching for. "I'll have you know I'm not cleaning up this mess, either."

"Of course not." Effie grabbed the tie, walking up to Peeta, who had an amused smile on his face at how well they knew each other. "You've never cleaned a day in your life." Peeta out right laughed.

At that moment Katniss appeared. " _What_ is taking so long?" Before anyone could respond Katniss looked around. "And _what_ happened to your room?"

"Haymitch helped Effie figure out what to wear," Peeta explained with a smile. Effie laughed and Haymitch snorted. "And sorry we're taking so long. We were talking about New Year traditions."

"Yes," smiled Effie. "And speaking of New Year's Eve, can I expect my kiss at midnight?" Her eyes darted to Haymitch, who was frowning.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"It's tradition. Every New Year's Eve at midnight, couples kiss."

"What for?" asked Katniss.

Effie rolled her eyes. "Who cares? It's just an excuse to be romantic and to bring New Years in with your loved ones."

"Isn't going to the party enough?" Katniss muttered.

"I'm with the girl on this one."

"You're with the girl on everyone," said Effie pointedly. "It's _tradition_ , Haymitch."

"You just discussed making new traditions with the boy."

"There you go, Peeta, you're all set. Why don't you two head downstairs? We're right behind you." Katniss and Peeta disappeared, holding hands, and Effie smiled. Then she turned back towards Haymitch. "We can make any new tradition you want, but we _are_ kissing at midnight." She walked up to him and straightened his slightly crooked tie. "So when we begin the countdown, you better meet me under the chandelier."

"You ordered a chandelier?" Haymitch rolled his eyes.

"Of course I did. How else would you find me at midnight in a room full of crowded people?"

"Princess we went to parties together every year for twenty years. I could find you in a crowded room blindfolded. You've always stood out to me."

Effie felt her breath catch in her throat. "Maybe that could be a new tradition: you, being romantic without even meaning to."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Jesus. Let's go." He grabbed her hand and she interlocked their fingers, smiling. "I don't see why we have to kiss at midnight. I should be able to kiss you whenever I want to."

He grumbled the entire way to the party, but when midnight came, he met her there, under the chandelier, even though he didn't need it, because she _did_ stand out, even in a room crowded with people. He knew where she was at all times, just like he knew where Katniss and Peeta were at all times, because even though it'd been several years since the war, some things would never change, and shouldn't.

When the music stopped, and the Capitol station started counting down the last minute of that year, Effie walked through the crowd and made her way to Haymitch. She had two glasses of champagne in her hand and handed him one.

" _Finally_ a man gets to drink at a party," he said, and she smirked.

"Well it's also tradition that you get to drink at midnight. You have to toast, you know, to the New Year."

He rolled his eyes and she pulled him close. "You've been a Rebel all night," she said in his ear. "You've had that _look_ in your eyes since the moment you walked in here. You swept the entire place, your Seam eyes taking in everything. I bet you know where all the exits are, and where they all lead to, which one is the safest route, which one is the riskiest, and which one is the closest."

"If you noticed that, then you've been a Rebel too." He pulled her to him, his hand on the small of her back.

"Well you know how that turns me on," she said huskily. "Maybe _that_ could be a new tradition. Us, making love after every New Year's Eve party."

He didn't have time to respond. At that moment the clock struck midnight, and his lips were on hers. It wasn't a simple kiss—it never was, with Effie. But it was old, and familiar, and made time stop, like it always did.

Traditional, if you will.

But as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, forgetting all about the old tradition of toasting to the New Year, he thought of another old tradition. One that involved a simple ceremony, and a simple toasting.

It'd be a new tradition for them, though, to spend every other New Year as husband and wife.

The thought pleased him immensely. He had no problem creating the new tradition, as long as the old kisses never stopped.

 _Seriously, I loved this one._


	72. Love In A Hopeless Place

" _Effie making an appeal to Haymitch to leave the memory of his dead girl behind for her? It's Me Get Over It asked for this, and I attempted to do it once before (Chap 62, Fly Before You Fall) but I literally might have only said one line in regards to it. I really wanted to elaborate on it, so I tried it again._

 **LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE**

 **Rated M—smut**

Haymitch turned off the shower and grabbed his towel, drying himself off. Then he stepped out the shower, towel-drying his hair. He softly opened the door, peaking out to make sure he hadn't woken up Effie. The sun was now bright enough for him to get a proper look at her: she was where she was when he had come upstairs, still asleep, and on his side too.

She was always on his side when he wasn't in bed with her.

He tip-toed to his closet, where he changed into a pair of pajama bottoms. He kept his shirt off. He folded his towel, opened the closet door, and turned the light back off. Then he quietly made his way back to the bathroom, placed his towel over the shower, and headed to bed.

He had just enough room to slide in next to her. He tried to do so without disturbing her, but he hadn't mastered how to do that yet. They'd only been sharing a bed for about three weeks. She'd only been here about four.

He barely breathed as he slid under the covers, yet she still stirred. She _always_ stirred. He stopped breathing all together when she turned to him and curled into him, her arms draping around him. His arms automatically wrapped around her and she sighed.

"I want you to start sleeping with me at night," she murmured, and he nearly had a heart attack. He thought she was still asleep.

"I don't sleep in the dark, Princess," responded Haymitch.

"The whole point of me sleeping in here was to sleep with you." Even with her voice laced with sleep she had that tone that meant no arguing. Too bad he hardly ever listened.

"I wait until you fall asleep every night, don't I?"

"Yes. And then you wait until I wake up to fall asleep at all."

"That's because you snore."

"You're afraid you'll get nightmares, and that you'll hurt me with your knife." He froze. "Lock the knife away and let me comfort you the same way you comfort me."

She finally lifted her head so that she could look at him.

"I don't need my knife to hurt you, Effie." She poked out her lip, and he realized she was pouting. He'd be amused if it weren't such a serious topic. "This works out well enough, doesn't it?"

"Not really," she told him. "Your bed's lonely without you. I like having you next to me. I sleep better with you."

"I'm going through withdrawals, and having nightmares. It's a bad combination."

Effie slid her hand up his chest. "That's not all that's stopping you." Haymitch stayed quiet. "Do you think I don't notice?"

"Notice what?" he breathed.

"The way your heart speeds up every time we touch," whispered Effie.

And then she kissed him.

Her jerked back in surprise, staring at her. She stared back.

And then they were kissing each other again, kissing each other like never before, and hands were roaming, and she'd never let him touch her _there_ , and surely his heart was one beat away from fluttering out of his chest. He was probably about to have a heart attack any minute now. His tongue didn't have to demand for entry; she opened her mouth and let him in, and then he was on top of her, and then he was lost, his brain in another world.

They'd shared kisses before. Several. Numerous. A countless amount. It was inevitable, because he'd taken to kissing her whenever he was drunk. He wasn't sure why. Probably because she always smelled good. His defenses were down when he was drunk. It just seemed like she was different than most Capitol puppets. She cared. Either that or she was a damned good actress.

They shared their _real_ first kiss—real to him because it was the first one he remembered, and was mostly sober for—on the Victory Tour. Talking to Katniss about Snow visiting her had a way of drying up all the alcohol in his system. He'd gone to Cinna's room, where he knew it was safe to talk, and noticed that the door was ajar.

He'd overheard them, Cinna and Effie, talking about the Tour, and about him. In their defense it was late, and they had probably assumed he was passed out drunk.

He wasn't.

"We have to keep Haymitch off the bottle," Cinna was saying.

"Haymitch knows what's at stake," disagreed Effie. "He'd never let anything happen to Katniss and Peeta. He'll be on high alert in 11, 8, 7, and probably 4 and 3."

Haymitch had heard them, not exactly loudly, but definitely clearly, and he had heard enough where he opened Cinna's door in shock.

He saw Cinna first. Cinna was facing his door, a full glass of liquor in his hand. Portia stood next to him, like always.

And then Effie turned around, and his mouth dropped open. Her wig was gone. She had red, curly hair that was so thick Haymitch wondered how it fit under a wig. Her face was void of any makeup, aside from glossy lips. She had a robe tied around her slender frame, and her feet were bare. Haymitch noticed bright red nail polish on her feet to match the nails on her hands.

He'd learned she wasn't just a rebel, but a pretty rebel.

He was too stunned to do anything except turn around and leave to his room, unable to handle two shocking facts like that back to back.

By the time she snuck into his room he was well on his way to getting drunk again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her without preamble.

She stared at him, the soft desk light barely highlighting his face. "I wasn't sure how you'd react," said Effie gently.

He put down his bottle and stood up, walking towards her. He yanked her towards him and pressed his mouth to hers. She responded almost immediately, and he stopped it almost immediately.

"You're not surprised at that," Haymitch said.

"You always kiss me when you're drunk," responded Effie, and he looked at her, confused.

"Did you slap me?"

"No," Effie smiled. "We were both drunk the first time, during the 60th Hunger Games. After that it just kept happening. I'm used to it."

"Did we ever…?" Haymitch's voice trailed off and Effie blushed.

"No." There was a story there, he realized, but he didn't push it.

Instead he stepped back up to her and cupped her cheeks. "I'm not drunk right now," said Haymitch, and he kissed her again. He couldn't express to her how relieved he was to realize she was on his side. He'd been attracted to her for years, and couldn't say he was all that surprised that he'd been kissing her for nearly fifteen years.

It hadn't taken him long to realize how intelligent she was, that all those years of pointless chatter was her way of ensuring that she never said anything suspicious. She played her part well. On top of that she was funny, and had the most amazing laugh he'd ever heard.

It didn't take long for him to fall for her.

And then the war happened, and she was gone for several months, and then she was rescued, and once again she was gone, this time by choice, for three years, until she came back to him, a month ago.

And now she was underneath him, kissing him again, and it was sheer beauty. It was fireworks, better than the best whiskey. It was everything he remembered, and then some, and he thought that he might be okay after all, if he got to do this with her for the rest of his life.

His hands found their way around her body and he attempted to start lifting her nightdress when she clutched his hands.

He stiffened and looked at her.

"Not yet," she said breathlessly, her hands making their way to his pants. She started yanking at them, thoroughly confusing him.

"Well which is it?" asked Haymitch.

"Not _you_ ," she snapped, her hands still yanking, and he finally lifted his hips. "You, naked." She kissed him again, which made taking his pants off quite difficult, but somehow he managed. "Finally."

"You're not exactly making this easy," mumbled Haymitch, his lips sucking her neck. His hands found their way to her underwear and she slid out of them easily enough. He then slid his hands under her body and she stiffened when his hands brushed a scar.

Oh.

He continued until he palmed her breasts, and her body jerked.

He'd deal with the scar issue later.

She surprised him by flipping them over, her lips everywhere: his lips, his ear, his neck his chest, his stomach. He cursed when she took him in her mouth, his head falling back.

They'd never done this before.

They'd come close, twice, apparently, though he only remembered one, their last night on the Victory Tour, after the Victory Ball. She'd looked so damn good, and Cinna had insisted that they dance together, and when he finally did, his breath was caught in his throat the entire time. It hadn't taken long, he realized, to understand the real Effie Trinket.

He'd gotten wasted, because Plutarch had told him to, because him not doing so would arouse too much suspicion, and when she'd come in to check on him he'd been all over her.

He'd _wanted_ her, he comprehended, like never before, and his hands were everywhere, along with his lips.

"I'm sober," he told her now, and Effie stilled and looked at him, her eyes dark. He knew she was now remembering that night, on the Victory Tour, when she'd stiffened against him, and stopped him.

He'd been confused as she slowly backed away from the bed.

"You've tried this before," she had whispered that night. "A long time ago."

"I thought you said—"

"We didn't get very far. You whispered out someone else's name." She had stared at him, her eyes sad. "Nova, you had said. I'd love to do this with you. But I won't come second, not even to a dead girl. I'd need you to be sober."

He _was_ sober this time, and Effie had to remind herself to breathe, just breathe, because this moment, this instant right here, was truly years in the making, and should have taken place a long time ago.

She sunk down on him and they shouted out. She stayed still for several moments as she waited to adjust to his length, and then slowly started moving. It hurt, she realized, but not too badly, and after a while she started speeding up.

After several moments Haymitch sat up, forcing her in deeper. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He buried his face in her neck, gritting his teeth as the pleasure slapped him.

Haymitch attempted to lift her nightdress again and she slapped his hand away.

"I don't give a fuck about your scars," he snapped out, and this time he succeeded in removing her nightgown. He immediately started kissing her and she came. It was so unexpected that he couldn't control himself, and he grunted out her name until he was empty.

Haymitch buried his face in her chest, breathing hard.

When they finally lay flat on the bed, and her voice returned to her, Effie finally spoke. "That was everything I always thought it'd be, and then some."

He snorted. "Dreamt about that for a while?"

Effie remained silent for a few moments, until she turned to look at him. "Yes," she said seriously. "I've been in love with you for a long time, Haymitch. Long before the war started and I became a Rebel."

Haymitch traced her face with his thumb, his eyes serious. "Effie, I—"

"You can't say it. I know that. I'm okay with that. Just tell me you feel the same way."

"Of course I do," he responded.

She searched his eyes for a few minutes, perhaps looking for any signs of a lie.

But he wasn't lying. He _did_ love her. He'd fallen for her at the worst possible time: in the middle of a fucking war that almost claimed her life. It was the dumbest thing he'd ever done, fallen for her when the stakes were so high, when all seemed lost, when it was hopeless.

But he'd found love during that bout of hopelessness, when he'd least expected it, or even wanted it. But it didn't matter. He loved her, and she was here now.

And he'd learned something after all this: hopelessness was a foreign place when it came to loving her.


	73. Always The Tone of Surprise

_Borderline drabble. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't even expect this one to get me any Reviews LOL._

 **ALWAYS THE TONE OF SUPRISE**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch snorted at what Cinna said while Portia outright laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Effie, walking into the living room.

Haymitch gaped at her, sitting up. "Fucking shit," he said. "Can you _stop_ with the god-awful dresses already?"

It was too early for it, he knew it, but she was wearing dazzling, blinding pink. Dark pink, more red in hue. Closer to fuchsia or magenta or some _stupid_ shit like that. There were little glittering gems all over her two-piece.

Effie stilled and glared at him, her hand on her hips. "Well what would you like me to do, Haymitch, walk around _naked_?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Actually Princess," he said with a smile, "I wouldn't mind that—"

"Shut… up… _now_ ," demanded Effie.

Haymitch slumped. "You're no fun."

Effie arched an eyebrow. "Oh, but Darling I am. Just not with you."

Haymitch shut his mouth at that, but he was never one to back down so easily. "You wanna know fun, come to my room tonight."

He was aware, somewhere, that Portia and Cinna were still in the room, but he ignored them.

Effie stopped walking towards the elevator, her eyebrows raised. "Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch. You don't do Capitols. And I don't do drunk Mentors."

"That's not what Chaff said."

Effie turned as she kept walking towards the elevator. "That was _one_ time, and will never happen again."

Haymitch dropped his glass.

Cinna and Portia burst out laughing as Effie stepped on the elevator. She winked at Haymitch as the elevator doors slid shut.

He would kill him. He'd fucking kill his best friend for touching his Escort. Oh, the Victor was dead. So dead. The bloody drunk didn't stand a chance with his one arm.

"Haymitch, she's only teasing you," grinned Cinna.

"As if Effie could look at another Victor that isn't Haymitch Abernathy," Portia said with a smile. She stood up and walked up to him. "She wants you, you know. Just as badly as you want her. Probably more. Unlike _you_ , she has a heart. The sexual tension between you two… well… it's been bubbling for years. Eventually it's going to boil over."

Cinna stood as well. "You two should just sleep together. Put us all out of our misery. Maybe if you get laid you'll stop being so grouchy."

Haymitch scowled. "I don't do Capitols," he snapped.

"You don't do anyone, Haymitch," said Cinna. "Which is unfortunate. Effie's hot, and probably the best thing to ever happen to you."

Cinna and Portia made their way to the elevator and stepped on. "Oh, and by the way," Portia said, "You know damn well Effie isn't all Capitol."

Haymitch stood there, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, for several moments. Eventually the elevator dinged again, and in walked Effie.

"I forgot my clutch," she said, glancing around. "It must be in my room."

She walked away and he followed her after a few seconds. When he arrived in her room the clutch was on her vanity, and Effie was fixing her hair.

"Can I help you Haymitch?"

"Your stylists seem to think we have sexual tension built up."

She arched an eyebrow and turned to face him.

"Oh really?"

"Yah. How stupid is that?" He closed the door behind him.

"Oh, I don't know. It certainly _has_ been a while. Several months since the Victory Tour, actually." She walked towards him.

"Yah, well, our Tributes are goin' back into the Arena in a few days aren't they? Who's got time for that shit?"

"Certainly not me. And certainly not with drunk Mentors who aren't Chaff."

He growled and pulled her to him, his hands on her hips. Effie's laugh was cut short when his lips found hers. She sighed into his mouth, scooting closer to him. After a few moments she pushed him away.

"Absolutely not. I have a Sponsor's meeting that I can _not_ be late for. This is the group that got Finnick the trident. If I can get them on _our_ side…." Effie stopped talking once Haymitch's lips connected with her neck. "Haymitch I'm serious." His hands were already undoing her skirt. "Are you listening to me?" He kept ignoring her and pretty soon her train of thought was completely lost until she could say nothing else but his name.

"I miss you," he whispered, and the admission had her heart doing stupid, foolish things that it had no business doing, particularly at this point in time.

His lips were soft on hers, and it was strange, in a good way, how much had changed over the past year between them.

"You're just trying to get in my pants," said Effie.

He snorted. "No. I don't do Capitols, remember?" He finally succeeded in unzipping her skirt and he nearly wept with relief.

"Oh, Darling. I'm not all Capitol," she hummed, gasping as he slid into her.

"And I'm so much more than a drunk Mentor." He started pumping, his strokes quick. "Especially Chaff."

Effie threw back her head. "Please don't talk about another man when you're inside me. Especially _him_."

He bit her throat, making her jerk in his arms. "Great fucking answer."

Afterwards they lay on the floor, breathless.

"If you cost my Tributes a trident, I shall never forgive you."

Haymitch laughed. "Relax, Princess. Finnick and _our_ Tributes will be allies."

She sat up and looked at him. "How'd you convince Katniss?"

"I didn't convince her shit. I'm gonna give Finnick the bangle you got me. It suits him much better anyway." Effie hit him for his cheek and he grinned at her. "And they were never going to get us a trident."

"Of course not. But what about a bow that blew things up?"

Haymitch stared at her. "That… is actually a good idea. I'll have to remember that one." He stood up and slipped his pants back on.

"Always the tone of surprise," muttered Effie with a small frown.

"Well you being a Rebel _was_ a surprise."

Her shoulders slumped. "Yah, I know," she sighed.

"It was a good surprise though. I'm glad you're on our team."

Effie arched an eyebrow as she zipped up her skirt. "Are you going sentimental on me?"

This time it was his turn to frown. "Always the tone of surprise," he repeated back to her, and she laughed.

They knew each other, more so now than ever. Right when they thought they knew each other front and backwards, they'd learn something new about each other. He wasn't just a drunken Victor, and she wasn't just a Capitol puppet.

Imagine that.

They certainly were full of surprises.


	74. When It Switched

_Don't really know where this came from. LOTS of questions on when Haymitch started to fall for Effie. It's been done a_ _ **MILLION times**_ **.** _I myself have written it a million times. Here's another version of when it switched. I'm pretty sure this one is pretty original. =)_

 **WHEN IT SWITCHED**

 **Rated T for language**

Effie arrived at Catlina's apartment slightly annoyed. They had had a lunch date planned, and the two of them were supposed to meet downstairs so they could call a car together, only Catlina wasn't answering her phone. Effie had been waiting for twenty minutes before she finally decided propriety be damned, she was going up, unannounced.

She did, after all, have a key, and it just wasn't _like_ Catlina to not answer or bail on a lunch date—especially when Effie was paying and they were going to Catlina's favorite restaurant.

Effie waltzed off the elevator and made her way to Catlina's apartment. She knocked a few times, just to say she minded her manners, but when she was sure no one was going to answer, she rustled around her clutch until she found her key ring. She searched for Catlina's silver key and was about to stick it into the lock when the door swung open.

Effie stilled as she looked into the sea green eyes of Finnick O'dair.

She was utterly confused for a moment, until she heard Catlina's voice ring out from behind the door. "Are you sure I can't pay you? I mean surely you want something more than _secrets_ after everything? You _are_ the Darling of the Capitol, after all."

She saw the shame in his eyes, briefly, and then it was gone, switched to a friendly smile, though the faint blush on his cheeks showed how embarrassed and uncomfortable he was.

"No, Catlina. Secrets are payment enough. See you next time."

Finnick nodded at Effie and then walked away.

She thought she might throw up. She _knew_ Finnick. Was quite fond of him, really. She still remembered the first time they'd met, a day after he'd been crowned. He'd only been fourteen but it was quite obvious he was taken with her. He asked her to dance at least once every year, and he always held her like she was a prize.

He was adorable.

Now, though, he was quite grown up. Last year the Capitol had thrown him a lavish eighteenth birthday party, and now Effie knew why. She felt stupid. It definitely wasn't unheard of, but she'd never witnessed it before, and it had never been anyone she knew. At least she didn't think.

"Effie? Effie, is that you? I can smell your perfume. I'm just getting redressed but you can come in."

But Effie didn't go in. She didn't want to look at Catlina, and Effie didn't have much of an appetite anymore.

She turned on her heels and left, taking special care to keep the tears at bay.

 **XxXxXx**

For Finnick's twenty-first birthday there were rumors that he'd be sold to the highest bidder. It was an invite only event. Only the Capitol's most elite would be invited.

Effie made sure she got an invitation.

She was five million dollars less rich, but he'd been sold to her, even if he hadn't known it yet. Per her request, he left his own birthday party early to meet her at her place. She had left shortly after she paid to get everything ready, so that by the time he rang her doorbell, she was prepared for him.

His sea green eyes were surprised when they rested on her, and she smiled at him.

"Come in, come in!" she nearly sang. He hesitated, briefly, before walking in. She was all chatter as they walked to the living room, and Effie complimented him on how handsome he looked, and asked if he had had a good time at his party. "Please, sit," said Effie. "Care for some champagne?"

"No thanks. I rarely drink on the job." His voice was strained, but Effie didn't catch it at first.

"Nonsense. It's your _birthday_. Indulge a little." She poured him a glass and he took it, taking a small sip. She sat down next to him, smiling above the rim of her glass. "We should make a toast."

"Okay."

"To adulthood," she said, and they clinked glasses. He watched as she sipped hers and immediately followed suit, realizing he might need a drink or two after all. "That's the spirit. I am going to get you wasted tonight."

"Oh, no Effie. You can't. I've never been drunk before."

"Right. But it's your twenty-first birthday. You're not supposed to remember this night, you know."

"Well I'm sure _you'd_ like to remember it," he mumbled.

"Well of _course_. I can't wait to tell Chaff and Haymitch." She laughed, her eyes twinkling, and he frowned.

"Effie, we have to sign a contract about tonight. You can't tell anyone."

"Tonight is _special_ , Finnick."

Finnick slammed his glass down and glared at her. "Sign the contract of silence, or I walk out of here."

Effie stopped laughing. "Finnick, what's wrong?"

He sighed. "Just… can we just get this out the way? Where do you want to do this? The quicker the better."

"Get what out of the way? Do what?"

"You _know_ what, Effie! The reason you bought me tonight. Which, by the way, I can't believe you did, because I thought you were my _friend_ , but I guess I was wrong."

Effie's mouth dropped open. "Oh my God. You think I bought you… for the _night_?" Effie looked scandalized and quickly stood up. "Finnick. How could you think that about me? We _are_ friends."

"We can't be. Not with you pulling this stunt. I can't _believe_ you bought me tonight."

Effie sat back down and grabbed Finnick's hand. He snatched it away from her and she stiffened. She took a deep breath. "Finnick, I bought you tonight so that you _wouldn't_ have to do anything with anyone tonight. I paid for you… to have a night of freedom. I thought it'd be my birthday gift to you."

Finnick looked at her, staring into her Capitol blue eyes. "You didn't buy me so that I could sleep with you?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course not, Finnick. I would never. I'm not _that_ desperate."

He stayed silent for a long time, searching for something to say. "So you're still seeing Seneca then?" He'd said it to try and lighten the mood.

Effie gaped. "How did you know about that?"

"People pay me in secrets, Effie. There's not much I don't know about anyone. And don't ask me to tell you, because I won't."

"Of course not. That's not very proper." She bit her lip, her cheeks still s lightly flushed. "Who's said what about me?"

Finnick laughed. "No one ever says anything bad about you, Effie, except that perhaps you're too loyal to Haymitch, and that you don't really love Seneca." Effie sighed. Finnick sobered up. "I'm sorry I misunderstood what you were doing tonight."

"Don't mention it. I want you to know, I can buy you anytime, if and when you ever need a break. We can figure out some kind of code word or something and I can start texting you whenever you come to the Capitol. You can tell me if you need me to buy you."

"Thank you, Effie."

This time when she reached out and grabbed his hand he immediately squeezed it.

 **XxXxXx**

"I should really get going. It's late, and my train leaves early tomorrow, and I don't wanna miss it. I don't want Annie to worry."

Effie smiled. "How is she?"

"Better. It's been a few years, so…." He shrugged, but she could tell he was worried.

"You love her," smiled Effie.

He grimaced. "Well now you know one of my secrets," he said.

"Does she….?"

"Know? Of course not." She could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"Finnick, we've been meeting for a couple of years now, and I've been debating back and forth to tell you something."

"You can tell me anything, Effie. You're my saving grace, you know that. Without you I'd have gone mad from it all."

"It's dangerous," whispered Effie.

"What do you mean?"

Effie frowned. "No. Dangerous isn't the right word. It's… rebellious."

That had Finnick stiffening. He eyed her for several moments. "Effie…."

"Do you trust me?"

"I'm not sure I trust anyone that much. I mean you're Haymitch's Escort. You know what they'll do…. I can't lose Annie, Effie. She's the most important woman in my life."

Effie nodded. "I understand. If you change your mind, though, let me know."

He did, the very next time he saw her. He knocked on her door, in the middle of the night, and she'd let him in. He told her he had to get out of the business, that he couldn't keep _doing_ this, because he was so close to _losing_ it.

"You won't _believe_ the shit I just heart about Snow," he said, and he looked sick. "I'm desperate. Tell me what you know." Effie handed him a glass of hard liquor and he took it, his hands shaking. "You know I trust you, right Effie? I don't want you to be offended."

Effie gave him a sad smile. "You need a secret. Something as leverage to ensure that I'm not setting you up."

"I won't ever tell, unless you make me."

"I understand, Finnick." Effie took a deep breath. She had lots of secrets. How much she hated the Games now. How much she loathed the Capitol. How unhappy she was. How she had nightmares. How she cried herself to sleep.

And all those things had once common denominator.

She looked at Finnick and said, "I'm in love with Haymitch."

 **XxXxXx**

Chaff walked up to Haymitch, a small frown on his face, and sat down next to him at the bar. It was crowded to capacity, and noisy as hell, which is why Chaff had told Haymitch to meet him here.

Chaff ordered a drink and studied his best friend. There was no one in all of Panem, in the entire planet, really, that he trusted more than Haymitch, but he had a bone to pick with him right now.

After Chaff was served his drink he nudged Haymitch and they made their way to a secluded corner. Chaff stared at Haymitch for a few moments, sipping on his drink.

"Spill it, Chaff," snapped out Haymitch.

"What do you know about your Escort?"

Haymitch frowned. "Effie? You bought me here to talk about _Effie_?"

"What do you know about her?"

"You mean other than she's the most annoying bitch I know? Nothing."

Chaff stared at him. "You ever let anything… slip to her?"

"Anything like _what_?"

"Anything at all?"

"Of course not. Never. Why are you asking me this?"

"Finnick O'dair approached me at last night's party. He told me the Capitol has been forcing him to sell himself for the past five years." Haymitch closed his eyes for a moment. The news didn't shock him. Finnick was young, and attractive, but it didn't make it any easier. "Then he told me that he wanted out."

Haymitch jerked at that, and then slowly blinked at his best friend. "What's that got to do with Effie?"

Chaff didn't immediately answer. He took a drink first, keeping his eyes on Haymitch. Haymitch had a damned good poker face, but Chaff had taught him. If Haymitch lied to him, Chaff would know. "Finnick told me that Effie told him if he ever wanted to do something about it, to come to one of us."

He was genuinely shocked.

"I've never said shit," Haymitch said.

"I know," sighed Chaff. He believed him. "Your Escort's… different, Haymitch. I've been telling you that for years. You know she buys time with Finnick so he doesn't have to sleep with people? She literally buys hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of time. She's been doing that for two years, to kind of help ease the pressure. She usually buys him for a whole day, so he really only has one day with others while he's in the Capitol. She's not like the other ones. She's not like _any_ one, really."

Haymitch took a long drink, refusing to acknowledge that statement. "I gotta go," Haymitch said, and slamming his glass down on a random table, he made his way back to the Penthouse.

 **XxXxXx**

He'd never been in her room this late before, but he didn't bother knocking. He was surprised to see her still up, figuring it was so late, and the sight of her had his jaw dropping and had him too stunned to move.

"Holy shit, you're smokin'," he said before he could think better of it. He cringed, even as he took in her appearance: flaming red hair, sapphire blue eyes, pouty lips, and rosy cheeks that made her look even younger.

"I _think_ that was a compliment, but I'm quite unsure." Her sarcasm proved that she really was Effie Trinket, and he found himself able to move again. He stepped into her room and shut the door.

"So what secrets have you told Finnick over the past two years?"

If he thought he'd catch her off guard, he was wrong. She simply blinked at him, her Capitol mask instantly in place. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Haymitch. You're clearly drunk."

Shit. She was good. Almost believable. If he weren't trained, he'd never have seen the switch.

He walked up to her, yanking her to him. "Does he know you like it rough? That you liked to be choked? That you bite, and claw, and scratch?" His voice was low as her breath hitched.

"I never slept with Finnick, Haymitch," Effie whispered.

"Good. Cause I'm pretty sure I like the little peacock, and I'd certainly hate to kill him if I find out that he's touched you."

"I wasn't aware I belonged to you."

He snarled and dug his hands into her hips, his grey eyes flashing like lightening. He was about to tell her that he was bloody possessive, and that she shouldn't test his patience, but she distracted him by placing her lips on his.

Their mouths took on a familiar route, and then they were all over each other. They'd been doing this for years, and he'd only felt guilty about it a handful of times. She _was_ different, as Chaff reminded him at least once a year, and now he had his proof. He wasn't sure if she was a Rebel or not—he didn't think so, but she was definitely observant as shit—but it helped ease the disgust he felt at going to bed with a Capitol.

He never did find out why she told Finnick to seek out him and Chaff, but it didn't really matter. Over the next few years she proved herself to him, and her loyalty to him, so that by the time they bought back two Victors, he hated himself like never before, because he was _falling_ for her, at the worst possible time.

He missed the days when she was just a Capitol puppet, and he was just a drunken Victor and Mentor.

Got damn Finnick O'dair, for making Haymitch see the switch.


	75. I Hurt Too

" _Your one shots keep getting better and better. Keep up the good work. Can you write a fic where Effie gets pregnant by Haymitch and they decide its best for her to have an abortion. And the decision hunts them for years. Maybe write about the anniversary of the abortion." –Guest. This was the most DEPRESSING prompt EVER lol._

 **I HURT TOO**

 **Rated T**

She was avoiding him. She was slipping away, distancing herself. At night she slept way on the other side of the bed instead of curled up next to him like she used to.

He would asked her what was wrong, and she'd lie and say nothing.

She'd never lied to him before.

He thought she was sick of him, and wasn't that a bitch? For her to finally be sick of him when he was falling harder and harder for her every day? He thought if she wanted to leave, she'd have to do it soon, immediately, as soon as humanly possible, because he was one heart beat away from throwing pride aside and begging her to stay.

She cried herself to sleep at night when she thought he was asleep.

When the hurt finally switched back to anger, he bluntly told her that if she was so unhappy, she could leave, that he wouldn't stop her.

She'd stood still, her eyes shocked, and she'd told him that she didn't want to leave, that she never had any intention of leaving. He'd asked her what the hell her problem was, then.

"Do you hurt?" she asked him. "I know you bleed. But do you ever hurt?"

And then she was gone, headed upstairs, where she locked herself in _their_ room, and now here he was, sleeping on the couch for the third night in the row.

He didn't even know what the hell he had done.

It'd been a long time since he'd seen her this upset. Not even when he'd rescued her from that cell. She'd been angry then, angry at him, at Snow, at everybody. She'd refused to come back to 12 with him.

When she did come back, she wasn't upset. Not like now. She was a shell of her former self, scared, and hurt, but she wasn't upset. The tears she cried were tears of fear, and sometimes exhaustion.

This time, though, the tears were of anguish. He only remembered seeing her like this one time, two years ago, when—

Oh hell.

Haymitch wished for a bottle more than ever. It'd been several months since he'd craved the substance this bad. Sometimes it'd hit him out of nowhere. He'd be walking home and someone would have a can of beer, and Haymitch would long for it. Or he'd have a particularly bad nightmare, and he'd wish for a cup. But for the most part sobriety was treating him well. He had her, and she was good for him.

But now? Now he thought about how wonderful it'd be to drink into oblivion.

Because now he knew why she was so upset.

She'd come to him with the news during the kid's fake engagement photo shoot. He'd been dumbfounded. It was the last thing he'd ever expected for her to tell him, and he spent a good ten minutes throwing up.

That year it'd been too much going on, and she was probably easily enough distracted, but he could tell she was hurt. She could use the upcoming Quarter Quell as an excuse, but he knew her, and saw through her. Last year she'd been recovering from being in a cell for several months, so this was probably the first year she'd truly had gotten to grieve.

He'd have been three this year, if they hadn't aborted him the day she'd gotten back to the Capitol.

He'd nearly drunk himself in a coma after she left. After he had told her to get rid of it.

They were about to go to _war_ , though, damn it. There was no way they could afford a pregnancy. Not when they'd probably end up on different sides of the war. Because even though she _talked_ like a Rebel, and cried at their Tributes deaths, and took off her wig and makeup for him, she was still Capitol, and he was very much a Rebel, and would die Rebel if he had to.

And then she'd shown up at the Reaping with her butterfly dress and Mockingjay wig, and he'd known where her true loyalties were.

With the Mockingjay.

With him.

It'd been too late, then, though, but it was still for the best, because she didn't deserve to raise a child alone, without its father, which might happen, because Haymitch had every intention of _dying_ for this cause if he had to.

He was pretty sure in three years he'd never told her he was sorry.

With shaky legs Haymitch got up and made his way upstairs.

The door, unsurprisingly, was cracked. It was a test, he knew, to see if he'd actually remembered, because she knew if he did, he'd come up here.

Because tonight was the actual anniversary.

"You remembered," she said softly when he closed the door.

"I may not have remembered the date, but I never truly forgot," he told her. He climbed into bed, immediately pulling her to him. "Yah I do," said Haymitch, kissing her hair.

She looked up at him. "You do what?"

"Yah, I hurt too."


	76. Scented Sheets

_Thought about naming this '10 Thing I Hate About You,' so know it's similar to that movie LOL. I_

 **SCENTED SHEETS**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch hated a lot of things.

Haircuts.

Shaving.

Getting out of bed.

Remembering.

Nightmares.

Being sober.

The Capitol.

He especially hated Effie Trinket.

He placed Effie right under the Capitol, because she _was_ Capitol.

Only she wasn't. Not always.

He hated that too.

Yah, he certainly hated a lot about Effie Trinket.

How proper she was.

How annoying she was.

How much she nagged him.

How much she fussed.

And boy could she fuss. _All the bloody time_.

He hated the way she always fought back. He could silence anyone with his death glare. He could put the fear of God in other Victor's even. But not Effie Trinket. She'd just glare right back, her hand on those slender hips, and they'd just go back and forth until she either slapped him or he kissed her.

That's another thing. He hated kissing her. Because after ten years of kissing, it finally led to what it inevitably would have always led to: him, in her bed.

The first time it'd happened he'd reacted much the same way he had after their first kiss: stunned that it had happened—that they had let it happen—and shocked that it was not only good, but that he had thoroughly enjoyed it.

He hated the way that she made him feel alive, that his heart and blood never pumped faster or harder than when he was in her presence. And it was ironic, ironic as hell, figuring that she was the Grim Reaper, the Master of Death.

Only she wasn't.

Not always.

He hated that too.

He also hated how she _lied_. Twice. After their first kiss she vowed it'd never happen again. When he'd pinned her against her bedroom door that first time—it was a bloody miracle they hadn't been caught—(and he still wasn't sure if he was surprised or not that they couldn't even make it in _to_ the bedroom) she had pushed him away and slammed the door in his face, promising she'd never talk to him again. Only they did talk again, which meant they argued again, which meant at some point he kissed her again, which meant he pinned her against, or bent her over the nearest surface in the distance. Again.

Haymitch hated the way they'd gone from hard surfaces to soft, warm beds.

Warm beds that made the walk of shame even more difficult.

Actually they weren't that difficult. Not anymore.

He hated that too.

But mostly he hated how he wanted her right now, right this second, as if he hadn't just had her last night, all night long. She'd slept here, in his bed, makeup and wig free, and he had let her, for the first time ever. He'd have let her even if they hadn't been exhausted, because she had come to him, whispering of dangerous berries and District uprisings. And suddenly Effie Trinket wasn't a Capitol anymore, but a Rebel.

Rebel Effie was gone now, and he definitely hated that.

Escort Effie was back, knocking on their Victor's doors, in order to rouse them awake as they arrived in 12, leaving his warm bed for a cold mask and a stupid wig.

He hated that for the first time his bed felt lonely.

But more than anything, he hated the way her scent lingered.

His sheets made him mad for her. Mad for his Escort.

He hated that every time he inhaled that glorious scent of cherry blossoms that it hit him, full fledged, in the gut.

And in other places as well.

So when she came to his room, about an hour after she'd left, telling him it was time to wake up, and he took her against his bathroom door, she was surprised at how rough he was being, because last night had been different.

He hated that he kissed her afterwards, softly, gently, kindly, to let her know that they weren't going backwards.

"I wanted you all bloody morning," he mumbled, picking up his dropped towel. "You got up so damn early."

She blushed, but grinned, and he hated when she did both of those things, because they made his heart flutter.

"Take another shower, Haymitch," said Effie, smoothing down her skirt, frowning at the water spots on her skirt and blouse. "My scent tends to linger."

He eyed his sheets darkly as she left, noting her words were the understatement of the year.

He _hated_ her scent.


	77. Making Friends

_Not a prompt, just something I've been wanting to write for a while._

 **MAKING FRIENDS**

 **Rated T**

She got off the train and the first thing she heard was glass breaking and an annoyed curse. She looked up to find Morelle at the end of the train, clearly frustrated. There were quite a few boxes of what Effie knew was hair equipment, since Morelle was the Town's main beautician. The woman was clearly trying to figure out how she was going to get all four boxes from the train station.

"Would you like some help?" asked Effie, walking up to her.

Morelle stiffened at the sound of Effie's voice. "No thank you. You'll probably break a nail," said the dark-haired woman, turning around just in time to see Effie cringe. Morelle's eyes traveled to Effie's hands, which weren't actually done at all. Morelle cursed at herself and frowned at the disappointed look on Effie's face. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

"It's okay," Effie said quietly, her head down.

Morelle looked at the Capitol woman, though she wasn't so sure she should call her that anymore. Effie didn't look all that Capitol. Her hair looked like most of the women from Town, and her dress was plain and simple. It was bright, that was for sure, but people in 12 were wearing more color now. She wore heels, but that was just Effie. She didn't have on a stitch of makeup, and it was obvious the former Escort was quite pretty.

Morelle sighed. "You just got back from the Capitol from your biweekly hair appointment I assume?"

"Yes," responded Effie softly.

"I bet you miss it."

"No," Effie said immediately. "Not in the least. The Capitol hasn't been my home for nearly twenty years now. I hate going back there every couple of weeks." Morelle stared at Effie, shocked. Effie stared back at her for quite a few moments. "I should go. I don't want Haymitch to worry." She eyed the box of supplies. "Are you sure you don't want my help?"

Morelle looked at Effie and then at the four boxes. Sighing she motioned for Effie to help her. "But I need you to keep up. I don't live too far from here, but I live far enough." Morelle grabbed her two boxes, leaving the other two for Effie. She picked them up and followed Morelle home, walking behind her.

The walk was far, the summer sun beaming down on their backs. The two women didn't say anything to each other. Morelle walked in front of her while Effie followed. After several blocks they finally made their way to the quaint little home. They put the boxes down while Morelle grabbed her keys and unlocked her door.

Inside Effie immediately looked around. It was a charming home, with lots of windows and natural sunlight and beautiful color choices. The sitting area looked comfortable, the house was lived in, and she could feel the love.

"Just sit them down here," Morelle told Effie, and Effie did as she was told. "Thank you."

Effie figured it was like swallowing nails, thanking her, but she accepted it. "You have a beautiful home," said Effie with a smile.

Morelle gave an unladylike snort. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to where you're from."

Effie's eyes instantly became sad. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

Morelle blinked at her and sighed. "No. I was being sincere. I know you come from money. The people in 12 have hardly ever known anything nice before the war. I can't imagine a place like mine would mean much to someone like you."

"Your home knows love. Mine didn't. You're far richer than me." Effie took a deep breath and shook her head. These people would never accept her here.

Morelle stared at Effie and sighed again. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being rude."

"I understand."

"Yah, I reckon you do. Listen, my mother's been dead for ten years now, but she'd kill me if I didn't at least offer you a drink for your kind deed."

"Please, don't go through any trouble. It's fine."

"It's no trouble at all. Give me a few moments. Make yourself at home."

Effie could never be rude and refuse, so she stayed, but she didn't sit. Instead a couple of book titles caught her eye. She walked over to the built-in bookshelf and skimmed some of the books, a small smile on her face.

"Here you go." Effie turned around and accepted the glass of lemonade with a smile and a thank you.

"I see you own Anne of Green Gables. That was my absolute favorite book growing up." She took a small sip of lemonade. It was good.

Morelle stared at her, clearly surprised. "It's definitely in my top three. I loved the whole series growing up."

"Oh my God, me too! I've read it a million times."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Have you ever read Little Women?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"I have it at the house," said Effie. "If you ever want to borrow it, you're more than welcome to stop by. I think you'll like it, if you're a fan of the Gables series."

Morelle hesitated, briefly. "Sure. Okay. I think I'd like that."

Effie gave the woman a small smile and took another sip of lemonade. At that moment one of Morelle's movies caught her eye. "Oh my goodness. You have _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. That's my favorite movie of all time."

"I _love_ that movie! I could watch it all day every day, if it weren't for Cordo, my husband. He just _doesn't get it_."

Effie laughed. "Haymitch is the exact same way. The first time we watched it he kept asking who Tiffany was."

Morelle snorted. "The same with Cordo." The two women laughed, shaking their heads. "I think the only reason he watched it is because he found Audrey Hepburn pretty."

"She was gorgeous, wasn't she? I adored her. I used to have a large poster of her in my room. Then I covered it up once Haymitch was crowned Victor. I covered _everything_ up once Haymitch became a Victor."

Morelle laughed. "Haymitch certainly was something in his prime." She bit her lip and stared at the woman in front of her. "You bought him back. He's better with you."

"I'm better with him," Effie told her, and Morelle nodded. "Speaking of Haymitch, I really should get going. He'll be worried."

Morelle nodded and the two women walked to the door. Effie thanked her for her hospitality and Effie was down the sidewalk when Morelle called after her. "If you hate the Capitol so much, why don't you just come to my shop to get your hair done?"

Effie looked surprised by the question, but she answered. "I'd actually love to, to be honest, but… I know I wouldn't be welcomed and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable."

Morelle looked at Effie, sizing her up. "If you really dislike going back there, you're more than welcome to come by at anytime to make an appointment."

Effie brightened, her blue eyes sparkling. "I'd love that." Morelle gave her a small smile. "Listen, that offer was genuine. Anytime you want to stop by and pick up the book, you can. We're the seventh house on the left. If you're ever free, maybe we can pour some wine, pop some popcorn, and watch _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ without our confused men."

"Maybe," replied Morelle after a few moments. Baby steps. Effie seemed to understand. The fair-haired woman nodded and said goodbye with a smile.

 **XxXxXx**

"You're late," growled Haymitch as soon as she walked through the door.

Effie cringed. "I'm so sorry. I would have called, but she didn't have a phone. Or if she did, she didn't offer to let me use it." She started taking off her shoes.

He scowled at her. "Who?"

"Morelle." Haymitch stiffened, but she didn't notice. "I saw her at the train station. Her supply order must have just been delivered and I volunteered to help her."

"She let you?"

"Yes. She didn't want to at first, but she had four boxes, and they were quite heavy. She either had to let me help her or risk keeping it there."

She walked up to him, wrapping her arms around him. "Was she nice to you?"

"She kind of hesitated, but I think I won her over with my charm. She ended up inviting me to her shop." She smiled up at him, noting the worry in his eyes. "I'm sorry I was late." She kissed him, because he needed it, and he kissed her back.

"You scared me, Princess," he muttered in her ear. "You're never late."

"I'm sorry." She gripped him, and he gasped. "Can I make it up to you?"

"I'm feeling the spirit of forgiveness already."

She laughed and pulled him to the couch, where they made quick work of each other's clothes. It'd been a long weekend. They were always long without her. She was literally only ever gone about a fifteen hours, but they were always a long fifteen hours. He pulled her down and climbed on top of her, where he entered her like he always did: surely and roughly.

She lifted one leg in the air and moaned out, her back arching, and she left him fill himself with her. It didn't take long for her to come, the orgasm nearly making her scream.

He pulled out, and she was asleep in seconds.

 _That_ had worked like a charm. He covered her with a blanket, slipped his clothes back on, and walked out.

 **XxXxXx**

It didn't take long for Morelle to answer the door. She smiled when she saw him.

"I wondered how long it'd take for you to get here." Haymitch just arched an eyebrow. Morelle stepped aside, and he walked in. He could tell she was cooking. The television was on, though the volume was muted. "Can I offer you anything to drink?"

"It's not a social call, Morelle."

She sighed. "I know."

"What are you intentions with Effie?"

"Nothing. I needed help, she offered, and then…."

"Then what?" snapped Haymitch.

"We ended up having things in common." Morelle paused. "She's nice, Haymitch. Lovely even. She gets under your skin, but in a good way. I didn't mean any harm."

"She doesn't have any friends out here. She gets it. She's never once complained. But she's lonely. I mean she has me and the kids, but she doesn't have girlfriends here, and even after five years it has to be hard, because she was quite popular in the Capitol."

"My invite to my shop was genuine, Haymitch." He stared at her for several moments.

"Okay. But if I ever fucking find out otherwise…. You two have a few things in common. You're from the Seam, and you know how hard it was to be accepted in the Town, even with Paylor trying to get the Districts to come together. Effie's going through the same thing."

"I know that. She'll be welcomed in my shop. I'll make sure of it."

"You better."

"I don't think I much appreciate you coming to my house—"

"She's my..." Haymitch's voice trailed as he realized he didn't know where to go with that statement. "Cordo would have done the same bloody thing." Morelle didn't and couldn't argue with that. "I'll see my way out."

"My sister would have been happy for you, you know." Haymitch froze and then spun around. "She would have wanted you to be happy. She wouldn't have liked the drinking and how miserable you were."

"Morelle—"

"Does Effie know?"

"About Nova? Of course."

"Does she know I'm her sister?"

"Doubt it."

"You two weren't in love, you know. Maybe puppy love. But eventually you'd have broken her heart, or she'd have broken yours, and you two would have moved on. You'd have never gotten married or anything. I don't resent you for being with Effie. You deserve to be happy. And in talking with her today, I know how good she is for you. There's something about her. And if you of all people can love her, who are the rest of us to judge? We've spent too much time hating each other. This is what we fought for. She's welcomed in my shop anytime."

Haymitch fixed his bright Seam eyes on Morelle's dark grey eyes.

"You should make an honest woman out of her and marry her." Haymitch inhaled sharply. "My sister wouldn't have put up with that," grinned Morelle. "Living with you, but with no ring. I don't think you'd have done her like that; so don't do Effie like that. Some things shouldn't change."

Haymitch felt his mouth go dry and Morelle laughed.

"Just like a man, to hear the word marriage and get terrified. Get out of here and go home to Effie. Tell her to stop by to make an appointment."

Haymitch gulped and nodded, and then left.

He hadn't realized he'd still been holding on to Nova all this time. Effie was… everything to him. Yet he felt… free, for the first time since his name had been called in the Reaping.

He walked back to Victor's Village with a smile on his face.

Effie was still asleep when he got there, and he had the mind to wake her up and propose a toast right then and there, but he thought better of it. She deserved more than that.

 **XxXxXx**

When Morelle's door opened, she looked up, a laugh in her throat at what her customer had just said. It got stuck once she saw Effie walk in.

The entire shop immediately got quiet. Effie stopped and looked around, a faint blush on her cheek. The women looked shocked that she was there, but they were staring at Morelle, not Effie, waiting to see her reaction.

"You made it," Morelle finally said, moving from behind her customer and walking up to Effie.

"Yes," whispered Effie.

"I'm glad. So you get a cut every two weeks, right?"

"Yes."

Morelle walked behind the counter and grabbed her appointment book. "I'm available first thing next Friday morning."

"That's fine."

"Good. Then it's all settled." She smiled at Effie and Effie smiled back.

"I bought Little Women for you to read." Effie handed her the book and Morelle accepted it.

"Did you say Little Women?" Effie turned and faced a blonde haired, hazel-eyed woman.

"Yes."

"Oh my gosh, I _loved_ that book as a child. Did you ever see the movie?"

"I haven't," grinned Effie.

"Oh we should watch it!" another woman said.

"I propose we have a girls night." The red head with sea green eyes reminded Effie of Annie. "A lot of our husbands go down and play pool on Friday nights."

Were they inviting her to said girls night? It seemed like it. They were all looking at her.

"I do believe Haymitch could use some guy time. We could have girls night at our place."

"We'll drink red wine and eat dark chocolate. I hear it does _wonders_ for your sex life."

Effie blushed but grinned. "Well I certainly don't have any problems in _that_ department, but I'm always down for a good movie and drinking wine."

The ladies in the shop all laughed.

"Are you busy? Why don't you stay awhile? Let's chat."

Effie bit her lip and glanced at Morelle, who nodded.

"Okay," said Effie, and she sat down next to the line of other customers.

"Tell us," one woman said, leaning forward. "Is Haymitch a tiger in bed?"

"That is awfully private," Effie said. "Before I answer, tell me, does what one _say_ in the stop, _stay_ in the shop?"

"Always," breathed another beautician. "It's girl code. Non negotiable."

Effie wouldn't tell them that things weren't all that different in the Capitol. Nor would she mention she never talked to the girls who did her hair out there. They were not her friends. She didn't know these women either, but she could get to know them.

"So… is he?" Effie stared at the girl under the dryer.

"Does a cat meow? Does a dog bark? The man is a District _god_."

The ladies squealed and Effie laughed.

They were all right, these women. By the time she left, an hour later, she had a girls night in scheduled. They'd seemed eager to come. Effie left the shop with more than an appointment. She might be well on her way to making friends.


	78. Finders, Keepers

" _Love the song fics. Think I have a prompt for you: after the war Effie goes to Disctrict 4 to stay with Annie/Jo unbeknownst to Haymitch how has been searching for Effie. No one thinks to tell Haymitch as they weren't aware of his feelings. He finds out when he either calls or visits... What do you think?" Uhhh this prompt? I'm in love with it. LIFE! Leggo_

 **FINDERS, KEEPERS**

 **Rated K**

"O'dair residence," said the voice on the other line.

He stared at the phone—literally stared at it by pulling it away from his ear and looking at it—and then placed it back on his ear. He was too stunned to say anything, so he just gripped the phone tighter.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Effie?" he finally whispered, and this time it was his turn to be greeted with silence. His heart was pounding in his chest as he waited for her to respond. He just needed a sign. Just one sign.

"Haymitch," breathed Effie.

Haymitch hung up the phone without thinking and made his way upstairs. He grabbed a few random things and stuffed them into a bag, his hands shaking, not really thinking about what it was he was doing or taking.

With his heart still hammering he left, heading to Katniss' and Peeta's. He knew the boy was at the bakery and the girl was out hunting, so after rummaging around for a bloody piece of paper for twenty minutes, he finally found something that would suffice. He wrote them a hectic note saying not to kill each other, that he'd be back in a few days, and not to worry. He placed the note on the island, underneath a plate of covered cheese buns, where he knew the girl would fine them.

Then, his bag over his shoulder, he made his way to the train station, bought a ticket to 4, and waited for his train to take him away.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie slowly hung up the phone, biting her lip. Had she imagined Haymitch on the other end? She couldn't have. There was no one else in all of Panem that was rude enough to hang up in her face.

"Who was that on the phone?" asked Annie, Finn at her side.

"Haymitch," Effie said quietly. Annie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "At least I think it was Haymitch. He didn't say."

"Well what did he say?"

"Nothing," admitted Effie. "He just… hung up."

Annie laughed. "Sounds like Haymitch. I wonder what he wanted. He hasn't called in a while."

Effie knew that. She'd been at Annie's for six months now, and she'd answered the phone a million times. She'd talked to Johanna and Mrs. Everdeen regularly, but no one else. Hardly anyone from before the war. Not Paylor, Plutarch, Peeta, or Katniss. And definitely not Haymitch.

Never Haymitch.

Annie started wrestling around in the kitchen, probably about to fix lunch, Finn sitting in his high chair. Effie saw all this without really seeing any of it. The room started to go hazy. She knew she should leave. If Annie saw her this way, it might set her off, and then they could both be lost, and that wasn't good for Finn.

So with shaky breaths Effie excused herself and made her way to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She'd barely made it inside before the panic attack hit her, full force.

The room started spinning, and everything went black.

 **XxXxXx**

"So what'd you say happened?"

"I don't really know," Annie said, her voice worried. "We were downstairs in the kitchen, she excused herself, and I didn't really think anything of it. I was fixing lunch. I fed Finn, and then put him down for his nap, and then I ate. When Effie still hadn't come back down after a couple of hours, I went up here to check on her, and found her."

"What triggered it?"

"I don't know, I…." Annie paused. "Haymitch. Haymitch called earlier."

So it hadn't been a dream.

Effie tried to blink open her eyes, but her brain wasn't cooperating. She felt like she used to after she'd been rescued from being imprisoned. Her mouth felt dry, her head hurt, and she wondered how long she'd been out of it. She wanted to know who Annie was talking to. A nurse? A doctor? Was Effie in the hospital?

"Haymtich?" the woman asked. "You think this is because of Haymitch?"

"She seemed upset after they hung up. He hung up on her, apparently."

 _No_ , Effie thought. _Not like_ that.

"When Effie first came here, I wondered what she was doing here. I thought Haymitch had made it quite clear how he had felt about her."

" _What_?" asked Annie.

"Oh come on. Wasn't it obvious? Oh. Well… probably not for you, since…."

 _Don't say it_ , Effie thought. _Don't mention Finnick's death_.

"Well it was rather obvious he cared about her," the woman finished.

" _Haymitch_?"

 _Was that really so hard to believe_?

"Yes. He wouldn't let any other doctor touch her. I wasn't as qualified as some of the ones from 13, but he refused to let anyone else even look at her. He never left her side, either, unless he absolutely had to."

Oh. Now Effie knew who was talking. Mrs. Everdeen.

"I was quite surprised she didn't go to 12 with him. He asked her to, but she declined."

Annie was quiet for several moments. "She shut everybody out for the past year and a half. Imagine my surprise when she showed up on my doorstep six months ago. Johanna almost had a heart attack when she called and Effie answered." Another pause. "Oh no. I bet Haymitch…. The last time he called he was looking for her. I hadn't heard from Effie then, so naturally I told him that, no, I hadn't heard from her. He said he'd talked to Paylor and Plutarch and she was no longer at her apartment. Apparently Haymitch had been calling and no one had been answering, so he finally talked to Plutarch. Plutarch went over to her place and it was deserted."

Effie took a deep breath. God. She'd gone back to try and live with her parents, then. That lasted all of two weeks, before she left without so much as a goodbye, and made her way to 4.

"That was weeks before she'd come to me, though, and by the time she got here, it was near Finnick's birthday and I… I just forgot."

"She probably gave _him_ a heart attack," Mrs. Everdeen said.

"I probably broke the little heart he had left," said Effie softly, and within seconds two concerned faces were looking down at her.

"Effie? How are you feeling?" Mrs. Everdeen asked.

"Fine," lied Effie. "Where's the phone? I need to call Haymitch."

"You need to lie down," Annie said firmly.

"What I _need_ is to find a phone." Effie ignored the two women and sat up. "I survived a cell for months. Passing out for a few hours is fine. It's happened before."

"A few hours?" Mrs. Everdeen put her hand on Effie's shoulder. "It's been a day, Effie."

Effie stilled. It'd been a long time since she'd been _that_ out of it. Definitely since before she'd left the Capitol.

"I don't care," stated Effie. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You hit your head on the floor and you need rest," Annie argued.

"The only thing I _need_ is to get to a phone." She stood up and realized she was still in yesterday's clothes. "And probably a shower."

She took a shower an hour later, only after she realized that Haymitch wasn't going to answer. She broke down in the shower, wondering if she had missed her chance, _again_.

When she was all cried out she got out of the shower and stared at herself. Her strawberry blonde hair was redder than usual—it was something about 4 that highlighted the red undertones in her hair—and her skin was tanner than usual. Or maybe she still wasn't used to seeing herself without all the makeup and powder. Her eyes stood out in this part of 4, because here the waters were greener than blue, like in other parts of 4. She looked healthier than she did when she had first arrived, but not by much.

She never should have come here. She'd always known, deep down, where she should have gone.

She packed quickly, not even bothering to fold her clothes properly. Who cared about proper at a time like this? She just threw everything in her bag, with the exception of what she was going to wear.

She ordered her train ticket online and printed it out, then made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Mrs. Everdeen was making lunch and Annie was entertaining Finn.

Annie took one look at her suitcase and stood up.

"You have been a wonderful host, Annie, but I don't belong here," Effie said.

"I know," said Annie softly. "Hold on for a minute, okay?" Effie nodded and waited while Annie ran upstairs. When she came down she handed the gold bangle to her. "I think this is yours more than it is mine." Effie felt the tears, but didn't let them fall. The two women hugged for a long time, and then Effie bent down and kissed the top of Finn's head.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Everdeen."

Effie had just opened the front door when Mrs. Everdeen came out of the kitchen. The waves could be heard in the distance, and Mrs. Everdeen had to speak a little louder.

"Are you going back to the Capitol?"

Effie turned and stared at the woman. A part of her wanted to tell Mrs. Everdeen that unlike her, Effie wasn't a coward. She was done running. But Effie also understood Mrs. Everdeen as well. They had both runaway rather than face their problems.

"Hell no I'm not going back to the Capitol," stated Effie loudly. "I'm going to 12, where I always should have gone. Hopefully you'll come visit soon."

Effie closed the door and walked towards the stairs, where she stopped abruptly, and just stared.

She was dreaming. She had to be.

He looked like the knight in shining armor he always was. His hair was windswept from the breeze, he had a five o'clock shadow on his face, and he wore a Seam grey button-up and dark khaki's.

He'd never looked more perfect.

She couldn't find her voice to say anything, so she just stood there, at the top of the stairs. He stood by the car, government issued, made clear by the Mockingjay emblem on the door. The driver wore a Mockingjay pin on his right breast.

After awhile—who knew how long? It could have been a second, it could have been a minute, it could have been a day or a year—Haymitch finally stepped forward.

That seemed to do the trick.

"What are you doing here?" breathed Effie.

"I'm here to take you back to 12, where you always should have gone." She blushed, a faint grin on her face. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Princess. I've called everyone. No one knew where you were."

"You must have called at the wrong times. Johanna's known—"

"Never called Jo. I didn't think you two got along."

"We didn't at first but… we're okay now." Effie paused. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I thought you hated me."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "I haven't hated you since the first time you took care of me when you found me passed out drunk in the penthouse during our 65th year."

"Oh, God. Don't remind me. I thought you were dead."

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and the two of them stared at each other again.

And then—

She was in the air, jumping into his arms, and he caught her, proving his reflexes were better than ever as he spun her around, kissing her.

There were claps and wolf whistles coming from the porch, but Effie ignored Annie and Mrs. Everdeen.

"You promise you don't hate me?" whispered Effie.

"Course not. C'mon. Let's go home."

 _Home_.

Effie ran up to give Annie and Mrs. Everdeen one last hug, Haymitch by her side. She wouldn't be allowed to ever leave his side again.

Now that he'd found her, he had every intention of keeping her.


	79. Dance Lessons

_Just some fluff. And FYI, I would not be me if I didn't write Hayffie to Adele's "Hello." #WaitForIt She is QUEEN_

 **DANCE LESSONS**

 **Rated K**

Portia and Haymitch walked into the living room and both of them stopped dead in their tracks at the sight before them. Portia recovered first, clearing her throat and walking into the living room.

"If I wasn't such a trusting girlfriend I'd be highly upset right now," she said, taking a seat on the couch.

Cinna smiled at Portia but kept dancing with Effie, twirling her around. Effie laughed, her arms automatically returning to Cinna's hands and waist when he spun her back into him.

"I'm just teaching Effie how to salsa," Cinna said with his own grin.

Haymitch watched them from the bar, sipping on his drink, wondering how on earth she could walk in those stilettos, let alone dance in them. It takes a particular kind of woman, he mused, to risk her life in shoes like that.

When the song ended Effie laughed again, hugging Cinna. "I haven't had a dance partner who danced that well in quite some time," Effie said breathlessly.

"Haven't you?" asked Haymitch before he could stop himself, and he took another sip of liquor so he wouldn't have to look at the three pairs of eyes eyeing him.

"Do you dance, Haymitch?" Cinna asked, sitting down next to Portia.

"Nope," said Haymitch.

"Do we need to teach you a thing or two about dancing?" Cinna teased.

"Actually Haymitch is quite the dancer," Effie said, fanning herself. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and he wanted to tell her to take off the damn wig and makeup, but he knew that wouldn't be _proper_.

Cinna arched an eyebrow in Effie's direction and then stared at Haymitch. "Really now?"

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at the stylist. "Don't get any ideas. You're not my type."

"I bet there's someone in here who is your type."

Effie stilled, very suddenly.

"Portia's not bad, for a Capitol," Haymitch said. Cinna's smile widened.

"I'm no more Capitol than Effie is," said Portia.

Haymitch took another drink. He'd walked right into that one.

"Why don't you show us your moves?" Cinna asked.

"Didn't I tell you once you weren't my type?" Cinna fully laughed.

"Dance with Effie, you drunk."

"Absolutely not," Effie said immediately. Cinna and Portia stared at her. "Just because you _can_ doesn't mean you _should_."

"And why shouldn't he?"

"Because I don't dance," answered Haymitch, pouring himself another drink.

"But Effie already said you could dance."

"But he really shouldn't. Haymitch tends to ruin thousand dollar shoes."

Haymitch gave her a smirk. "That was a long time ago, Princess. Let it go."

"I most certainly will not."

"How many times do I have to apologize?"

"Once would be nice," Effie said, putting her hand on her hip.

Haymitch frowned. "I've never apologized?"

"Haymitch I don't think you even know what an apology _is_." Cinna and Portia snickered out a laugh that had Haymitch giving them a _look_. Their laugh quickly turned into coughs.

"It's late," Cinna said. "We should start getting dressed for the Interview and the Victory Ball." He stood up and held out his hand for Portia, who took it and stood up.

"Thank you for the dance lesson, Cinna. It took my mind off of how ridiculously bad Katniss and Peeta are."

"They're stressed," said Cinna gently.

"Their chemistry is off, and has been since before Katniss suggested Peeta propose." She took a deep breath.

Cinna laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Your dress is on your bed." Effie nodded and watched the two stylists disappear.

"It's nice to forget for a little while," sighed Effie as she made her way to the bar.

"I'll drink to that," Haymitch said, raising his glass.

"You'll drink to anything," said Effie, but her mouth was turned up. Haymitch felt his own mouth twitching. He watched her pour a glass of some fruity drink and turned around to pour himself another drink when she placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Slow down. The night hasn't even started yet."

"I'm trying not to remember this night, twenty-five years ago," he told her.

He started to pour his drink when she grabbed his arm again. "Then dance with me." He looked at her, his Seam eyes searching her Capitol ones. He nodded, once, and put the bottle and his glass down. She did the same. He grabbed her hand and led her back to the center of the living room. He turned the radio back on.

When Cinna found them he swallowed the name he was about to call. He watched them for a few moments, realizing he was intruding on something intimate, but too awed to move.

He thought they were in denial, Haymitch more so than Effie. But as Cinna watched the way the Victor never took his eyes off of the Escort, Cinna realized that he was dealing with two people who were very strategic and skilled at their cunning.

Haymitch loved her, and he knew he loved her.

Effie knew it too.

They weren't even dancing to the music. They just swayed, lost in the magic of their own world, Haymitch's hands on the small of Effie's back, and Effie's hands resting on his chest.

They seemed to be totally in sync with each other, and he imagined that they could have silent conversations with each other in their head without having to say a word. That proved to be the case when both of their heads moved at the same time—Effie's up, to meet his, and Haymitch's down to meet hers.

Cinna turned around and left before their lips connected, realizing he had intruded on their moment long enough.

He hadn't believed Effie earlier, but he stood corrected.

Haymitch didn't need dance lessons after all.


	80. One of Them

" _If it's no trouble, can I request a prompt? I really like stories where Johanna realizes that Effie isn't a regular Capitol, so would you be interested in writing something along the lines of Johanna realizing that Effie is better than she gave her credit and that she does "get it" but more than that she even defends if someone said something bad about her or when she heard Coin wanted her up for execution. It's up to you but yeah...amazing stories!" requested this one, and I loved it. I like the dynamic of Johanna and Effie finally coming together at some point, but I've never touched on it. In some stories they hate each other, in others they like each other._

 _With that said, I also really wanted a Gale fic where he's surprised that Effie's in 12, and says something rude, and Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch come to her defense. Guess I'll just add Johanna there as well LOL. Let's see how they finally come together._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **ONE OF THEM**

 **Rated M for language**

"You guys better not be fucking naked, because I'm coming in." Peeta and Katniss gasped at the familiar voice and left their kitchen and ran towards the front door.

Johanna was there, taking off her light jacket.

"Oh my God," Katniss said, her eyes wide. "Johanna!"

"No shit, brainless." Katniss ran up to Johanna and the two women hugged, Peeta close behind. His eyes were on Johanna and he missed the way Katniss stiffened suddenly. It wasn't until he noticed the way Katniss was slowly backing up that he realized  
something was wrong.

Peeta didn't get the chance to ask. Suddenly he understood, clear as day.

He looked just as good as ever, and hadn't changed much in seven years. He seemed taller, stockier, and harder, but he was a Soldier. War did that to you.

He had two duffle bags in his hand.

"Hello, Catnip."

Katniss didn't immediately respond. She just looked at him, her face completely masked. She had learned to do that over the years. Peeta was personally convinced that Haymitch had taught her how to do that back when they were in 13. Sometimes nobody ever  
knew what the two of them were thinking.

"What are you doing here?" Katniss finally asked, and her voice, like her face, like her eyes, was completely neutral. She could be asking about the weather.

"He's my boss, and I knew better than anyone that he needed a vacation, and so did I. So, here we are," shrugged Johanna. "Where's the liquor?"

Johanna placed her jacket on the coat rack and headed towards the kitchen, leaving the three of them alone.

"Is it okay?" asked Gale. "I warned Johanna that we should call first, but you know how she is. If it's not okay I can get a hotel. I know a few have been built near the outskirts of Town."

Katniss glanced at Peeta, and he shrugged. It was up to her. Katniss' eyes traveled back to Gale. "It's fine." Then she spun on her heels. "For now." And with those words, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Peeta looked at Gale. "Come on. I'll show you where you can put your bags." Peeta turned and headed upstairs, Gale behind him. Peeta made his way to the first guest bedroom. "Do you need two rooms or…?"

Gale scowled. "Of course we do. Johanna and I aren't… I mean we…." Gale frowned, a faint blush on his cheeks, and Peeta understood.

"You help her with her nightmares," Peeta said cryptically. "I get that. You can set Johanna's bags in here, and your bags in the room across from hers." Gale nodded, and Peeta made his way back downstairs.

Inside the kitchen Johanna was looking through cabinets. "I _know_ you have to have _something_ ," complained Johanna.

"No we don't," Katniss insisted. "And trust me, I wish we did." Peeta came up behind her and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm okay," she told him softly. "Shocked, is all." At that moment they heard the front door slam. "Johanna, if you've bought anymore uninvited  
guests—"

"I didn't, I swear," said Johanna, and then the three of them were on their way back towards the front door.

Haymitch was taking off his jacket when they all made their way to him. He looked up and couldn't immediately hide his surprise. "What the fuck?"

" _You_ ," pointed Johanna. "Ha! I _know_ you have liquor. This house is like a bloody school or something."

At that moment the door opened again. "Honestly, Haymitch, you could have waited for me. I told you I was nearly done." Effie glared at him, until she realized someone else had his attention. Effie's mouth dropped open when her eyes landed on Johanna.

"Great," spat Johanna. "If _you're_ here, that means Haymitch is sober. _Fuck_."

"Honestly, Johanna, that mouth," Effie chided.

"Don't start on me, Trinket. I'm not in the mood for your lectures. Especially without a bottle."

"You can't call me Trinket anymore," Effie said, holding up her hand.

Johanna gaped. "You _married_ your fucking Escort?" Johanna broke into a fit of giggles. "Wait until I tell Beetee and Plutarch."

"I didn't marry my Escort," snapped Haymitch. "I married a Rebel."

Johanna grinned. "I guess you did. Effie certainly doesn't look like an Escort anymore." Johanna walked up to her and the two women embraced. "You look way better without all that shit."

"Thank you, Johanna."

"But I'm still gonna call you Trinket."

Effie sighed, taking off her coat. Johanna's eyebrows shot up as she saw Haymitch help her. "That doesn't surprise me in the least. Haymitch still calls me Trinket when he's mad at me."

"Which is probably all the time."

"At least once a day," Haymitch said, but he said it so fondly that Johanna rolled her eyes.

"I'm getting outta here. 12 has turned into Lover's Lane it seems like."

Katniss snorted while Effie and Peeta laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Gale, coming down the stairs.

"Holy shit," Haymitch said, and Effie _tsked_.

"There is _no need_ for that kind of language," hissed Effie.

"Soldier Abernathy," Gale said, immediately straightening.

"At ease," said Haymitch with an eye roll. "I'm not a soldier anymore, and we're not in 13. Chill."

"You're still my boss, Sir. As long as you're employed by Paylor—"

"Employed by Paylor?" Katniss asked, looking at Haymitch. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing," said Haymitch firmly.

"Not nothing. This man's in charge of security detail for like _all_ the Districts."

"Not true," Haymitch argued. "More like half of them. Beetee has the other half."

"He's the reason you two always remain safe," pointed out Gale.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Peeta asked.

Haymitch shrugged. "Didn't think it was important. I've been taking care of you two for nearly ten years now. Is it time to eat yet?"

Haymitch walked towards the kitchen, though nobody followed him.

"Do I… know you?" he heard Gale ask, and Haymitch turned around.

"Not exactly, I don't think," replied Effie. "I'm sure we never met, at least not officially. I'm Effie." She held out her hand Haymitch saw the way Gale stiffened.

He heard it, that small warning in the pit of his stomach, and Haymitch immediately walked back to Effie's side. He knew everybody else in the room felt it too. Katniss' fingers were twitching and Peeta's body was rigid. Johanna just stared warily.

After it was clear Gale wasn't going to shake her hand, Effie lowered it. She too realized something was off. She glanced at all of them, her hands immediately making their way to her neck and hair.

"You're Effie?" Gale finally said, and his voice was dark. "Effie _Trinket_?"

"Yes," responded Effie coolly, and Haymitch had to give it to her. Her voice was firm, her eyes cold.

"Effie Trinket the _Escort_?"

" _Former_ Escort," Katniss said, and her voice held a warning.

Gale whipped his head towards her. "Are you… you're _defending_ her? She pulled your name, Katniss. And she pulled Peeta's name, and Haymitch's!"

"I don't go by that name anymore," Effie said. "Nor that job title."

If she thought that'd help, she was wrong.

"I don't give a fuck what you call yourself now. That doesn't change shit."

"You watch how you talk to my wife, boy," Haymitch said icily, and Gale stared at him, shocked. "That's an order."

"Your _wife_? You _married_ your Escort?" And the way he said it compared to how Johanna had said it varied greatly. "Are you fucking _crazy_?" Haymitch felt his back go up. "You do realize that it was a bitch just like her who pulled  
your name, and ultimately got your family killed, right?"

Haymitch moved so fast that nobody had time to stop him. He had Gale pinned against the door so fast that all anybody could do was gasp. He slammed Gale so hard that the door actually cracked. Everybody could immediately tell that Gale was dazed, but  
that didn't stop Haymitch.

"If you think I need my fucking knife to kill you, you're quite mistaken boy. Nobody gets to call my wife outta her name, and nobody get to talk about my family." Gale struggled against Haymitch, but he really didn't stand a chance.

"Haymitch, let him go," Johanna ordered, but Haymitch ignored him.

Peeta realized that Haymitch might really kill Gale. He was turning blue. "Haymitch," Peeta said. "We're not killers anymore."

"Speak for yourself," growled Haymitch.

"Haymitch." It was Effie. It was always Effie. She walked up next to him and laid a gentle hand on his back. Her voice was calm, but firm, despite the tears in her eyes. "Let him go."

"He insulted you."

Effie reached out and turned Haymitch's head so that he was looking at her. "Let him go."

He did, immediately, and Gale dropped to the ground in a loud thud, coughing and sputtering. Haymitch was shaking and Effie pulled him towards her.

"I think it's time for you to go now," Katniss said coolly.

Gale, still coughing, shakily stood up. He glared at Katniss. "She pulled your sister's _name_ , Katniss."

"And you helped build the bomb that fucking killed her."

Gale looked like he'd just been sucker punched, and Peeta's heart dropped into his stomach at her words. Johanna shook her head.

"All of us in here have blood on our hands," Johanna said. "None of us are innocent. Effie's paid her dues, Gale."

"Yah? And how the fuck do you know? How the fuck does she belong here?"

"Because we shared a cell together," she snapped. "She took care of me! I get where you're coming from. I didn't always get it either. I'd see Haymitch and Effie and would think Haymitch was crazy. But Chaff told me that Effie knew everything. She knew  
about 13, she knew about the plan to break us all out of the Arena. She even helped design Katniss' Mockingjay suit. And you know what? She never told them a damn thing. They tortured her, just as much as they tortured me, and she always kept her  
mouth shut. She's one of us, Gale. The world isn't black and white, or Capitol and Districts. There are blurred lines here. That's what we fought for. So get your fucking facts straight before you go around hating somebody."

"She's our friend," Peeta said quietly. "That's how she belongs here."

"The only person who doesn't belong here is you." Katniss' voice was steel, and Gale stared at her for several moments. They had a silent argument for several moments, their eyes never leaving each other.

Then his eyes flickered to Johanna. She stared back at him defiantly. "I'll see you back in 2, Gale," she finally said, and he scowled.

The look of betrayal was evident in his eyes.

He turned on his heels and left, slamming the door so hard that it cracked even more.

Effie took a deep breath, her hands over her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Haymitch asked immediately.

She looked at him. "Am _I_ okay? You almost killed him, Haymitch!"

"I'd have broken his fucking neck if he'd hurled one more insult at you."

"I don't like it," she whispered furiously. "I don't like seeing any of you that upset, especially at my expense."

"Well tough shit," said Johanna harshly. Then her features softened, just a little. "You _are_ our friend, you know. You're one of us. And it's _his_ fault for being too stupid to see it."

"You're really more than a friend," Katniss said, walking up to Effie.

"We are a team, aren't we?" said Effie softly.

"We're more than that even," Peeta corrected. "We're family."

It could have been a tender moment, something to go down in the history books, but then Johanna opened her mouth.

"Enough with the pleasantries. Somebody find me a _fucking_ bottle of _liquor_ before I _lose_ it!"

Haymitch snorted, and Effie rolled her eyes while Katniss laughed and Peeta grinned, wondering if Johanna had ever had it.

None of them would ever trade each other for anything.

 _SO. Harry Potter/Hunger Games crossover coming SOON. As SOON as I think of a title. I've been having trouble thinking of titles lately. I've literally been writing stories first. It's driving me crazy LOL. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one._


	81. So Much Trouble

_THE WALKING DEAD HAS JUST DESTROYED MY SOUL! I AM SOOOO HURT. I SERIOUSLY CAN'T. I JUST CAN'T. SO DEPRESSED. I'M POSTING THIS BECAUSE I'M HOPING REVIEWS WILL BE LEFT THAT'LL PUT A SMILE BACK ON MY FACE. THIS IS LIKE WHEN PRIM DIED IN MOCKINGJAY. LIKE SERIOUSLY WTF. WHAT THE FUCKNG FUCK. GRRRR._

 **SO MUCH TROUBLE**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch and Effie walked side-by-side, in sync with each other, headed to their next destination. They smiled and nodded at the constant congratulations being shouted at them, but they didn't stop to chat.

The music was blasting, most of the people still jumping up and down with glee at their Victory. The entire Capitol was in overdrive and showed no signs of slowing down, despite how late the hour was getting. Bright lights and fireworks highlighted the sky, emphasizing all the exaggerated wigs and extravagant outfits. Laughter and cheers could be heard, along with a buzzing excitement.

Halfway to their next destination Chaff stepped up to them. Haymitch immediately stopped, and Effie followed suit.

The slight strain on Chaff's face wasn't all that obvious, but Effie noticed it. Chaff hugged his friend, offering him a sincere congratulations, and then he made his way to her, a real smile on his face. "Congratulations, Trinket."

They hugged and Effie thanked him. A few seconds later Finnick was there, Johanna and Seeder behind him. More hugs and congratulations went around, Effie and Johanna nodding at each other, but not hugging. She saved Finnick for last, the two of them embracing the longest.

When she backed away Finnick cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly. When he released her she blinked at him, but his sea green eyes sought out Haymitch. Finnick grinned at the scowl on Haymitch's face and Chaff laughed, patting Haymitch harshly on the back.

Finnick turned back to Effie. "I'm sorry. I've just wanted to do that since I was fourteen years old. Congratulations."

Effie huffed, blushing. "Honestly, Finnick, save the romancing for Annie." She turned back around. "I'm sure we'll see you all over the course of the next few days. If you excuse us, we need to keep thanking our Sponsors."

"Don't forget the Gamemakers, which, by extension, means the GameKeeper." Effie froze and then spun around, her eyes resting on Seneca Crane. He gave her a warm smile. "Congratulations, Effie."

"Seneca," she breathed, and then blushed. "I mean, Head GameKeeper."

"Please. You know you can call me Seneca, because you'll always be Effie to me." Effie felt the way Haymitch shifted behind her. Finnick, he would tolerate. Seneca? Not so much.

"Well thank you, Seneca, for going along with Haymitch's brilliant idea of having two Victors. You will certainly go down in history." Seneca's smile faltered slightly. "We really must go, but I'm sure I'll see you later?"

Seneca nodded. "You can bet on it. Will you save me a dance?"

Effie stared at Seneca for a few more moments. "Of course I will," she finally smiled. "I'd never turn down a dance from an old friend." With those words she turned around, ignoring the smirk on Haymitch's face, and placed her hand on his arm. They quickly fell back into step together, Haymitch's hand on the small of her back.

They made their way around, thanking the people they were supposed to thank, smiling and waving at the crowd, and chatting with the designated reporters. By the time they were finished they were exhausted, and Effie was lightheaded from the lack of sleep.

The citizens of the Capitol were still partying, and would be up until the sun was high in the sky. Champagne was flowing, music was blaring, and pictures were being taken.

They were nearly back at Headquarters when Plutarch Heavensbee made his way out of the crowd, approaching them with a smile on his face. He shook her hand, offering his congratulations, and then moved on to Haymitch, who had suddenly stepped back a few feet so that he was no longer next to her.

Plutarch stood close to Haymitch, and Effie wasn't the least bit surprised.

At that moment Coral approached her. "Effie Trinket, you finally did it," District 6's Escort said with a fake smile. "I'm so happy for you." She wasn't, but that was the standard Escort congratulatory line. "I honestly can't believe your drunk pulled it off."

Effie stiffened, and was about to retaliate, when she felt him. It was strange how he could appear out of nowhere like that.

"Careful, Coral," Haymitch said quietly. "We wouldn't want anyone to hear about how rude you're being to the Winning Escort. Isn't there a line in your contract about showing the Winning Escort the utmost respect? I do believe it's on page seven, second paragraph, third line. There was even an astric next to the word respect, just for stupid people like you, and down at the bottom of the page was the Capitol's definition: to honor, glorify, and have deep admiration for."

Coral blinked as Haymitch talked, and her face darkened as he continued to belittle her. When he was finished she whisked away without so much as a backwards glance.

"Thank you, Haymitch, but I was going to handle it," said Effie rather crossly.

He rolled his eyes. "Yah, but you handling it would have caused a scene, and we really don't want that right now."

He was right. "Shouldn't that be _my_ line for you?"

"Hey, I've been on my absolute best behavior this year, Princess."

She glanced at him as they walked. "That you have," she admitted softly.

They made their way to Headquarters, utterly spent. The clock on the wall told them that it was near four in the morning. Thanking Sponsors certainly took a long time. She immediately made a beeline for the couch while Haymitch made his way, unsurprisingly, to the bar, pouring himself a large drink, and taking an even larger gulp. He poured himself another glass, turning to her, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Yes, please," she said, and he poured her a small glass of white liquor. He handed it to her and she accepted it gratefully. She took a tentative sip, making a face at how strong it was.

"Sorry, it was the only clear liquor they had. I know you hate the brown stuff."

It was thoughtful, and it shocked her. He could be quite the charmer when he wasn't drunk out of his mind.

Effie took another sip and leaned back on the couch, sighing. She was mentally and physically drained, and she wanted out of her wig and makeup, not to mention she couldn't breathe in this damn dress. Yet she couldn't find the energy to move. Plus she needed to discuss something with Haymitch, but she didn't know where to start.

"Spill it, Trinket," Haymitch finally said after a few moments of silence, and she sat up, staring at him. He smirked. "I know you, don't I? You've been off all night. I haven't heard one mention about you getting promoted or anything. I never imagined what you'd be like if we ever won, but I was expecting more…." He searched his brain for the right word.

"More Capitol?" finished Effie for him, and he snapped his finger.

"That's the word, Princess. Where's my Escort? All bubbly and bubble-gum pink, and sickeningly sweet?"

And here it was. The moment had presented itself to her. She hadn't needed to think of a way to tell him. He'd opened the door.

"We're in trouble, Haymitch," she said quietly, not immediately meeting his eye. She sat down her glass, taking her time.

She felt him stiffen, ever so slightly. Someone who wasn't trained wouldn't have noticed his sharp intake of breath. "What?" asked Haymitch, and she doubted very much anybody but her could have heard the slight panic in his voice. She could see his pulse on his wrist, jumping traitorously.

"We're in trouble," she repeated, and finally she looked up at him. "So much trouble." Haymitch's eyes searched hers for what felt like a good ten minutes. She didn't think she was exaggerating. She kept her eyes on his until she saw the understanding appear in his pupils. Then she watched as his eyes changed from shock, to disbelief, and then they were closed off and guarded again.

He stood up, walking to the bar, and poured himself another drink.

Effie stood, disbelief clouding her voice as she spoke. "You truly think I'm as stupid as all those idiots partying in the Capitol."

Haymitch spun around, his eyes dark. "You mean your neighbors? The people you hang with? The people you _work_ with?"

"I work with Plutarch, Cinna, and Portia," Effie said coldly, walking up to him, and his mouth dropped open.

"Trinket, you need to lower your voice."

"Why? I know just as well as you do that Beetee's running interference in this room, and has been ever since Katniss buried Rue." Haymitch stilled, going completely immobile. "I get it, Haymitch. You've spent nineteen years hating me. All I'm asking you to do is to see that you hate what I represent. You don't _know_ me _._ " Haymitch just stared at her.

"You can't be a Rebel, Effie," he finally whispered.

"Darling, it's way too late for that." She yanked him by his tie, forcing him to meet her lips. She kissed him, softly, quickly, but not before he tentatively responded.

"What was that for?" he demanded, because the kiss hadn't been long enough, yet it was too quick, because damn it, he'd _liked_ it.

"Because I've wanted to since I was thirteen, and you were crowned Victor. And because you've wanted to for the past few years, though lately more so than ever, because you've actually been sober enough to realize I'm not the Capitol puppet you thought I was. And because we're in trouble, and I don't know if I'll get another chance to do so."

Before Haymitch could respond—not that he'd know how to respond to the truth of her words—the elevator door dinged, signaling they were no longer alone.

Effie stepped back from him. "Fix your face," she snapped, and walked towards the elevator. It was Cinna and Portia.

"We're in trouble," said Cinna without preamble. He glanced at them, frowning at Haymitch, who was still in the exact spot Effie left him in. "Let me guess: you told him?" Effie spared Haymitch a glance, rolling her eyes.

"Are we sure he's the leader of this Revolution? He doesn't handle shock well."

Eventually he'd find his voice, and be able to defend himself, but for now, Haymitch couldn't decide between being stunned or relieved, because he _was_ attracted to Effie, and he'd spent the better part of ten years fighting with himself over it.

The fact that she was one of them complicated things, and his Escort and stylist were right.

They _were_ in big trouble.

Particularly him. He was in so much trouble.

Because he was falling for her.


	82. Hijacked Hearts

" _I have this idea for a scene, probably fits the movie but it's basically Effie going to talk to Peeta while he's still convinced that Katniss is a mutt. Effie tries to help him through pushing through the tracker jacker fog but Peeta isn't responding, arguing how could he be so in love with someone so unavailable. Effie tells him that it's not like that at all and Peeta yells that she doesn't know shit, except she does because she's been in love with Haymitch for a long time too. My idea ends there but maybe you can come up with something better and concrete? ;)" Nikatsu suggested this, and I loved it._

 _And also, "Thank you! Loved this one! Would have to be one of my favs :) Had a few thoughts for movie district 13: Effie secretly meeting Peeta upon his return." Combined Nikatsu's with Nkneeshaw._

 **HIJACKED HEARTS**

 **Rated T—language**

The room was stark white, and Effie wondered if it reminded Peeta of being a prisoner of the Capitol. She remembered some of the propos he was in. Always dressed in white, looking ridiculously like President Snow.

It wasn't much different now. He was still in all white, and still locked up.

Effie had visited him enough to know that today would be a bad day. He was scowling , biting his jaw, and he was muttering to himself.

"Talk to me, Peeta. What's wrong?"

"I just don't understand how I could have loved her," he spat. "She's a nightmare. Emotionally unavailable. Mean. How could I have loved that?"

Effie sighed. "I know it's not easy, Peeta, but you did— _do_ —love her. You just have to look past the outer shell. It's hardened, and yes, Katniss can be thick-skulled, but she cares about you, Peeta."

"No she doesn't," snapped Peeta. "She's impossible. Rude. Arrogant."

Effie couldn't argue with that. Katniss was those things. "That's true, Peeta. But she's also caring, and protective, and fierce."

Peeta just shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I don't even care."

"Yes you do. And that's okay."

"What the hell do you know?" Peeta asked coldly.

"Do you honestly think you're the only who's confused about how a person feels?" asked Effie quietly. Peeta just stared at her. "You think you're the only one who gets confused about which memories are real versus which are imagined? You're not. Katniss doesn't mean to hurt you. She's just… from the Seam. They don't know any better."

"This is about me," Peeta said harshly. "Not you and Haymitch."

Effie jerked. "Is it that obvious?"

Peeta snorted. "To everybody but him. He doesn't see the things you'd do for him. That you already do for him."

"It's not his fault," Effie said. "It's the way they are. Katniss is no different."

Peeta's eyes cooled several degrees. "You keep feeding yourself that same bullshit if you want. I know better. And the truth is, you deserve better, and so do I."

Effie stood up. "I'll see you later, Peeta," sighed Effie, and she turned around.

Haymitch was standing at the door, a scowl on his face, both arms folded across his chest.

She lowered her eyes and walked up to him, trying to hide her blush, because she knew that he'd heard their conversation. She walked passed him and he immediately fell into step beside her.

"I told you not to visit him," he said darkly as they made their way down the corridor.

"And I told you he's _lonely_ , and confused, and that's a terrible place to be," responded Effie.

"He's dangerous, Effie."

"Everybody here is dangerous." They walked through a set of grey double doors, Haymitch unaware that he had opened the door for her.

"Not like Peeta."

"Peeta is my Tribute, Haymitch, and _somebody_ needs to remind him that we're a team."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're playing Mentor to Katniss and once again leaving Peeta out to dry," she hissed.

They reached her door and she opened it, intent on leaving him outside of it, but he walked in, attempting to slam the door shut. In his anger the door sprung back open.

"You blame me for Peeta being kidnapped?"

Effie whipped her head around as she closed her door. " _What_? Of course not! I know how hard you worked to get them out of that Arena. All I'm saying is it'd be nice if you went down and saw him every now and then."

"I've been kinda busy," he muttered.

"Yes, I know. With _Katniss_."

"I honest to God don't have _time_ for this shit, okay? I don't have time to babysit you or Peeta."

"I don't need babysitting," snapped Effie. She walked over to her desk and started undoing her head wrap. "Some of the time you spend mothering me like a hen could be spent visiting Peeta."

The headscarf was off of her head now, and she was shaking her curls loose.

When she turned around to face him he snapped out of it. "There are more important things I have to deal with."

"Like _what_ , Haymitch?"

"Oh, I don't know, leading a fucking Revolution, maybe?"

"You're the _leader_ of said Revolution. Surely you could allot some time for him! You seem to find time to visit Johanna."

"I don't like fucking seeing him like that, okay?" Effie froze as Haymitch's harsh tone and Haymitch closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "They took the only pure one left, and destroyed him, Effie. It's like seeing _you_ on that bed, okay?"

Effie walked up to him and caressed his cheek. Haymitch opened his eyes and stared at her. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I didn't think about that. I know you're doing what you can. I shouldn't be nagging you."

Haymitch tucked her strawberry-blonde curls behind her ear, and he probably would have kissed her if there weren't a knock on her door at that moment.

He sighed and Effie smiled softly, grabbing her head wrap to go answer her door. It was Gale, who looked above Effie's head and stared at Haymitch. "You're needed in Command."

Haymitch nodded and Gale left. He turned back to Effie. He snatched the piece of cloth off of her head. She gasped and narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could yell at him he spoke.

"I like your real hair. Keep this off." His voice was firm, and sounded like he couldn't be argued with. She _hated_ when he used that tone.

"Haymitch I'm improper without it."

He looked her over. She was currently wearing _his_ shirt—he had to ask for another one—and had his belt wrapped around her slender waist. Always the fashionista, this one was, and it boggled his mind. "Your entire existence is improper, Princess."

She frowned. " _That_ is not very nice," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

He smiled and walked to the door. He turned around and stared at her. "He's wrong, you know." Effie arched an eyebrow. "About me not noticing what you do for me."

Effie blushed again. "If you had _any_ amount of manners you'd never have mentioned that."

"I've never had manners. You know that."

She sighed and turned around, but he could still see her in her mirror. "Don't you have a meeting to attend?"

He stared at her, debating with himself. They skirted along the edge of that line now, and had for a while. Ever since Cinna had told him that Effie was helping him design Kantiss' Mockingjay suit he'd been… conflicted. Then they'd had that _stupid_ "I like you better sober" moment…. And the way she was walking around, actually looking halfway decent for once, was even more confusing. Not to mention he'd been in her pants—or skirt, whatever—a few times now.

He was attracted to her is what he tried to tell himself, even during the moments his lips found hers.

He found himself attracted to plenty of women, yet he didn't go around kissing or screwing them.

And then instances like this came along, and lines were blurred, and even more crossed.

"Peeta was right about one thing, though."

She rolled her eyes and turned around. "Obviously you're not going to drop this, so spit it out."

"You deserve better. And so does he."

Effie dropped her arms and rested her Capitol eyes on his. She glared at him and slowly walked towards him, and it took everything in Haymitch not to back away. "You listen, and you better hear me loud and clear, Haymitch." Her voice was actually shaking with fury. "I can't speak for Katniss, but I can speak for Effie Trinket. _You're_ the drunk Mentor who literally had to have the fact that his Escort was a Rebel spelled out for him. You know _nothing_ about me. So don't you _dare_ tell me what I do or don't deserve. And you shouldn't sell yourself so short. You have no idea, really, the affect you have on people."

He could actually feel her wrath radiating out of her body.

"Go to your meeting, Haymitch." And then the door was slamming in his face.

He blinked at her door and slowly grinned.

He could definitely do way worse.

He'd have to tell her one day. About how she made him feel. Once he figured it out.

All he knew for certain was that Peeta and Effie weren't the only ones who wanted to know which feelings were and weren't real. All of them, as different as they were, seemed to have one thing in common: fear stopped them from truly being happy. It's like their hearts that had been hijacked.

As he made his way towards Command, he wondered if there was a cure.


	83. When Snow Falls

" _Aww, that is adorable! Hayffie cuteness. I love how Haymitch tried to protect her and how she told the PDs off! So adorable. I love your stories so much. If you need an idea, perhaps one where they see Katniss shoot Coin and they realise that Snow's dead, too, then out of sheer relief that they're free, Haymitch and Effie just look at each other and kiss. Xoxo" BlackCat46 suggested this and I don't think they'd have had time to kiss in the heat of the moment, particularly since everyone immediately freaked out, so I changed it a little. I hate the story, btw, but hopefully you all liked them, particularly you, BlackCat46, because it's your prompt._

 **WHEN SNOW FALLS**

 **Rated K**

"What do you want?" he asked her exasperatedly.

Effie shook her head. "I don't know. But I know that I don't want you here right now."

"Effie, please," pleaded Haymitch. "Coin's dead. Snow's fallen, and we can finally just focus on us."

"There _is_ no _us_ ," she hissed. She saw it, the quick switch from vulnerable to masked. He wouldn't let her hurt him, she realized, which is childishly what she was trying to do. "It doesn't matter who's dead or alive," continued Effie. "It doesn't matter that Snow is dead."

Even as she said the words she knew they were a lie.

Of course it mattered.

The two of them stared at each other for several seconds, until she couldn't hold it anymore. She walked up to him and kissed him, roughly, harshly, slamming him against the wall, teeth scraping, tongues fighting for domination. His hands gripped her waist, and the familiar tingle made its way through her body. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in closer, deepening the kiss until her head started to spin from lack of oxygen.

She finally pushed him away so that she could breathe.

"You're sending me mixed signals here, Princess," he told her.

"I just wanted to do that because I was never supposed to before," she said breathlessly, her eyes dark. "That means when I finally forgive you, I can do that without any consequences."

He stared at her for several moments, and she stared back.

"When?" whispered Haymitch, repeating after her. When, not if.

Effie bit her lip, and then slowly nodded. "Yes. I can't hate you forever, Haymitch. I'll try, but I won't succeed. I'll find you then."

Haymitch pulled her close. "Just come with me. Be mad at me in 12."

Effie shook her head and pushed him away. "I need _time_ , Haymitch. You betrayed me—"

"I _didn't_ ," he insisted, and Effie held up her hand.

"Just go, Haymitch. Go take care of Katniss. You seem to be good at that. Choosing her over me."

"I'm her _Mentor_ , Effie. I _had_ to get her out of the Arena and take her to 13. I wasn't choosing her over you, though, I was—"

"It doesn't matter, Haymitch. It really doesn't. Just go."

Haymitch stared at her again, noting he wouldn't change her mind. She really wouldn't come back to 12 with him. Snow was dead, and so was Coin, and they could finally live in a world where they'd be accepted, and she was refusing to come.

"Fine," said Haymitch shortly, opening her door. "Have it your way. But just remember: we're supposed to be a team."

"I wasn't the one who forgot that bit of information," Effie said. He scowled and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

A few months later she got a package in the mail. There was no return address so she didn't open it. She got enough death threats to last a lifetime.

It sat it on her desk, and she forgot about it for several more months, until she accidentally knocked it over one day while she was cleaning. She picked it up. It'd been a while since she'd received any death threats. Things were finally calming down. She decided to take a risk and open it.

There was a torn piece of paper inside, the handwriting achingly familiar. It made her stomach flip-flop.

 _I never forgot_ , it said, and Effie's throat closed up. She dug into the envelope and smiled softly.

The gold bangle.

She put it on her wrist and ran to her closet. Stupid. She was so stupid. She packed a few things, not even bothering to pack properly. With one last sweeping look of her apartment Effie left, never looking back.

When Haymitch opened the door, the first thing he noticed, after seeing her face, was the suitcase, and the gold bangle on her arm.

"S'about bloody time, Princess," he told her. "Thought you forgot where I stayed."

"No," said Effie gently. "I'd never forget home."

He moved aside and she walked in, to start a life where they didn't have to be afraid or found out. They could be free to care for each other, and be with each other, and love each other.

A lot of things were different now that the war was over.

And now that Snow had fallen, the biggest difference of all, would be them.


	84. Worse Things to Do

**WORSE THINGS TO DO**

 **Rated K**

Her eyes fluttered open when she felt him palm her forehead. She blinked, Haymitch's face coming into view, and then her eyes were closed again, her head falling to the side.

"Nope. Wake up, Princess. You need to eat and take some more medicine." Haymitch's voice had her eyes opening again and staring at him. The way he was speaking to her had her concerned. His voice was soft and gentle. Haymitch hadn't used that tone with her in several months.

Effie sat up on the couch and glanced at Haymitch. He had a bowl of what Effie could only assume was soup in one hand and a bottle of medicine in the other. She absentmindedly removed the cover as she stared at Haymitch.

There were dark circles under his eyes. He wore a frown on his face and he hadn't shaved in a few days. His hands were shaking as he held the bowl of soup, just a slight tremor, almost like they used to do when he was going through withdrawals.

"What's wrong?" she whispered as she watched him sit the things down on the table. Effie reached out for him. "Haymitch, what is it?"

"I'm just worried about you, Princess."

Effie frowned. "I'm fine, Haymitch. I just have a cold."

"You sleep all day."

"The medicine makes me sleepy." Her voice was amused, until she saw the dread in his eyes. He gave her that same look whenever she had a particularly bad nightmare. "Oh. Do I… dream?" asked Effie gently.

"Not always. I had the doctor change the prescription, though, so that helped." He sat down the table, pushing the bowl out of the way. "I don't like how long the medicine makes you sleep." He looked at her, his eyes sorrowful. "I don't like seeing you so still for so long."

"Oh, Haymitch," Effie sighed. She grabbed his hand and pulled her to him. He allowed himself to be pulled until he rested on top of her. She moved his hair out of the way. "I'm okay. I just caught a cold. It's your fault, you know."

He looked at her. "How is it my fault?"

"You steal all the cover at night. It's a blizzard outside and you're snuggled up nicely and warmly while I'm left freezing."

"That is _not_ true. You practically sleep underneath me every night. By default, if what you're saying is true, you should have been kept warm by my body heat."

"I'd like to be kept warm by a blanket next time."

"It's not my fault. I'm not used to sharing my bed." He poked out his lips and she gave him a soft smile. He stared at her for a few moments. "You're okay?"

"I am. It's just a cold, Haymitch. We live in a world now where colds are our biggest problem."

He let that sink in, taking in a deep breath. "Good. You had the kids worried."

"Oh, just the kids?" Haymitch stared at her and then kissed her for a few minutes before she pulled away. "I don't want you to get sick."

"I don't bloody care," he growled, and he put his lips on hers. She let him, because she understood that he needed the comfort. She wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulled away he looked calmer. "Your fever's broken. Let's get you some food, okay?" She nodded and ate a little bit of soup. Her appetite was non-existent at the moment, but Haymitch made sure she at least ate half her bowl.

"Will you watch a movie with me until I fall asleep?" asked Effie once he'd returned from taking the bowl back into the kitchen.

Haymitch sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he slid in behind her, getting under the covers. She snuggled against him, his hands around her waist. She'd have him watching something bloody stupid, like _Gone with the Wind_ or _The Breakfast Club_.

He supposed there were worse things he could do.


	85. Stuck With Me

_I PROMISE I'm not addicted to Tamia's music LOL she just has some good songs. You should listen to this song, it makes the fic better, though it does well enough without it. It's called Stuck with Me._

 **STUCK WITH ME**

 **Rated T**

 _If I was to fall apart_

 _Please don't leave me in the dark_

 _Baby, ooh baby_

 _When you cry_

 _Shed your tears_

 _I will catch all your fears_

 _Baby, ooh baby_

He hated the sounds of her screams. He could handle his. Or Katniss'. He'd even learned to handle Peeta's flashbacks. But Effie reliving all those months in her cell every time she fell asleep was more than he could handle.

Somehow it became possible for his drinking to get worse.

She hated the dark, which he knew, but still he left her, because seeing her like that broke him. _She_ ended up coming to him—she always did. Somehow she found the strength to comfort him, to erase the fear that still gripped his soul.

 _Her_ arms wrapped around him.

 _Don't you ever worry_

 _Cause I'm here for you_

 _I'm always by your side_

 _Always near_

Somehow she was there for him, and it gave him the strength to be there for her. She was always there, by his side. He didn't understand it, and he tried to push her away, but she had always been persistent, and there was a little fight left in her yet. She always pushed him right back.

He didn't deserve her, but as long as she was here, he'd pretend with her. It'd make it that much harder when she finally left him, but for now… she loved him.

And then she told him she was lost without him.

 _When I'm not with you_

 _I feel lost without you_

 _I'm telling the truth_

 _I'm so lost without you_

She was better with him, she told him, and she meant it. She never went far. She'd put up with his shit for over twenty years, and had never walked away from him. Turned down a few promotions too, over the years, he learned.

"Somebody had to take care of you," she had said to him. "It's what we do. We're a team. And we take care of each other."

He'd attempted to get his life together after that, two years after her return, because he believed her: she'd be lost without him.

And he'd be lost without her too.

 _If all you gave was a smile_

 _I don't mind boy stay a while_

 _Baby, ooh baby_

 _If I could choose your every thought_

 _You'd love me more maybe not_

 _Baby, ooh baby_

The first time he smiled at her, really smiled at her, had been an accident, and she was just as shocked as him. She let him into her room that night—and it was definitely _her_ room, and not the guest suite anymore.

It was nothing short of magical, being inside of her, and he thought he'd be okay, if he got to die like this. They fit together, and it was so easy to move inside of her. No wonder it became routine.

He had fallen for her, and he wondered if he could love her more.

Maybe, maybe not.

 _When I'm not with you_

 _I feel lost without you_

 _I'm telling the truth_

 _I'm so lost without you_

Somehow they got better. His drinking stopped. Her nightmares lessened. She learned how to calm him from his nightmares. He'd learned her scent. She was his real, not real. A gentle whisper, a soft caress. That's all it took, and he was okay again.

They couldn't be without each other.

Even when they fought, and she'd sentence him to the couch, at some point during the middle of the night she'd climb on top of him, bed covers in tow, and they'd fall asleep right there, his arms wrapped around her, her face buried in his chest.

Apart they were lost.

 _Baby you're stuck with me_

 _Baby you're stuck with me_

 _Baby you're stuck with me_

 _Baby you're stuck with me_

Those moments when he relapsed, he could see he was hurting her. She not only counted on him, but she believed in him, apparently more than he believed in himself.

He told her to leave once, that she was better off in the Capitol, married to some Capitol puppet.

She hadn't liked that.

He'd never seen her so angry, and he figured he'd gotten lucky to have ended up inside of her. Hot, angry sex, and his name falling off of her lips.

Afterwards, after they untangled themselves from stairs, she said, "There's no one else. You're stuck with me."

 _When I'm not with you_

 _I feel lost without you_

 _I'm telling the truth_

 _I'm so lost without you_

Eventually he married her, because that's what people who were in love did. He never thought he'd see the day where Effie Trinket would be okay with just a simple toasting, but then again, he'd never thought he'd see the day that he'd want to get married.

They recited their vows.

She _thanked_ him, of all things, for always being her rock, and always being there when she needed him. And then she proceeded to tell him how: with comfort, sobriety, honesty.

After she told him she'd be lost without him, they kissed each other.

As husband and wife.

 _Baby I'm so lost without you_

 _I'm so lost without you_

 _And I'm so lost without you_

 _I'm so lost without you_


	86. Careless Whisper

_A/N: It's All Hallow's Eve, so here's a treat: I'm posting early. I am out of town. I'll be visiting my fam in California and I'm staying with my grandma, so she doesn't have Internet. Saturday night I'll be in a hotel, though, so hopefully I'll be able to post then. Enjoy this extra post!_

 _Also: MORE PROMPTS PLEASE! I find I've been writing a lot post-MJ so I'd like some prompts about HG or CF… any ideas? Post prompts in Reviews, please._

 _Not a song fic. Not even an inspiration. Really I just liked the title of the song, so I used it. The song and this fic don't really go together. I just used a couple of lines. This one-shot says 'songstress' even though I know George Michael is the original. For the sake of this, it's Tamia's version._

 **CARELESS WHISPER**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch stared across the dance floor, trying to remember how to breathe. She could still do that, apparently. Take his breath away. It wasn't fair. It'd been five years since the last time he saw her. There was no valid excuse as to why she should still have this hold on him.

He blamed the dress.

If you could call it that. The bottom half was metallic gold, and fit her in all the right places, but it was the top half of the dress that had him nearly drooling. It was daring, but tasteful. The entire top half was made up of multiple gold chains, all different lengths in order for her to be covered. Her back was bare, accenting her curves, again, in all the right places.

As if that weren't enough, she was the only Capitol female in the room without a shred of makeup on, and no stupid wig.

"Are you just gonna stare at her all night, or you gonna actually ask her to dance?" asked Johanna.

"Maybe," Haymitch muttered. "It almost feels like old times, huh? Minus Chaff and Finnick and Effie's pink hair. And a crazy sociopath for a president."

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Don't be brainless. It's nothing like old times." Johanna bumped him. "Go ask her to dance." Haymitch stared at her, surprised. "Look, I know I had my share of doubts about you and Effie before. But… we shared a cell for a little while, and she never rolled over on us. She was one of us. She's earned that title. So go dance with her before you drive yourself to start drinking again."

Haymitch watched as Johanna walked away, and then he focused back on Effie. She was dancing with Peeta, a genuine smile on her face.

It was the first one he'd seen from her all night.

At that moment Katniss walked up to him, dressed in a blue dress the color of Peeta's eyes. She gave him a small smile and he smirked at her.

"I know I'm not one for tact," Katniss said, "so I'll try to say this as delicately as possible: you're drooling."

Haymitch scowled. "No I'm not," he nearly snarled.

"You should really ask her to dance."

"What, did Johanna tell you to come over here to tell me that?"

"No, but you're definitely the talk of the town."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "What else is new?"

"Well they can't talk about your drinking anymore, so why not discuss the sexual tension in the room between you and Effie?"

Haymitch gaped. " _That_ statement is about to make me relapse, coming from you."

"Would you rather have heard it from Peeta, because he's the one who said it."

"Jesus fucking Christ." Haymitch glared at her. "You two are like my own kids. We don't discuss sex with each other. Like _ever_."

"Don't shoot the messenger," said Katniss, holding up her hands. "But you two have been skirting around each other all night. Have you even spoken to her?"

"She's been busy," he mumbled.

"You've been avoiding her," corrected Katniss. "You didn't come all this way just to congratulate Paylor on her second Inauguration. You could have done that over the phone. You came here to see Effie. Go dance with her."

He couldn't though. Not immediately. And it wasn't because he didn't want to. It wasn't until he saw her slip away, into a pair of concealed double doors, that his legs finally listened to his brain. He made his way towards the door and walked in.

"I was wondering if you'd follow me," she said when she saw him. She didn't seem surprised. She just had a small smile on her face, her eyes guarded.

All he could do was stare. His legs worked again, but his brain was having trouble remembering how to communicate. He wanted to speak, but what was he supposed to say to a woman who claimed she never wanted to see him again?

He took his momentary mute malfunction and looked her over. She looked even better up close. There were a few laugh lines around her mouth now, but other than that, her face was perfect. She looked younger without all the makeup and powder. Her dark blonde hair was currently in a fancy up do, but it was _her_ hair, and even in its complicated bun it looked luscious and soft.

She definitely looked good.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night? Honestly, you'd think we were back in the Games again." Her voice held that hint of impatience that he'd grown to recognize. He felt himself relaxing.

The music changed, almost right on cue, to something slow and sad, and he walked closer to her.

"May I have this dance?" he finally asked her, and now she couldn't hide her surprise.

She flushed, beautifully, but clasped the hand that was held out. He gave her three seconds before her walls came tumbling down, and sure enough, her resolve started to slip.

"Well it's about time you asked me," whispered Effie, and he smirked. It didn't take long for her to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. They danced in silence for a while, the songstress belting out a tune about never going to dance again and guilty feet not having rhythm.

Effie thought that song certainly fit the occasion.

"You look good," she told him softly.

"You too, Princess."

"I'm so glad you came, Haymitch." She pushed him back so that she could look at him. "I wanted you to, but I didn't want to get my hopes up, and I was too afraid to ask Peeta and Katniss. When you didn't RSVP—"

"I don't do things like RSVP," snorted Haymitch.

"Right, but this was for the _President's_ Inauguration," Effie said. "Anyway, when you didn't RSVP, I took that as a sign. But then I saw you walk through those doors with Katniss and Peeta and I…." She stopped and bit her lip, looking away from him. He waited expectantly. "I owe you so many apologies, Haymitch."

Something in his chest loosened and he felt himself literally start to breathe properly for the first time in five years.

"You don't owe me shit, Princess," said Haymitch, and he meant it.

"I do. You probably hate me." Her eyes welled with tears. "I didn't mean anything I said to you. I was just angry, and upset, and hurt, but not at you, at the world, and you were just there and I took all my frustrations out on you. I should have came back to 12 when you asked me to."

He held his breath.

"And now it's too late."

His heart dropped.

"Is it?" whispered Haymitch.

Effie stopped dancing and stared at him. "Isn't it?"

"You tell me. You're the one who said it."

"But… Well…. I don't know what kind of woman you take me for, Haymitch, but I'm no… Scarlet Woman!"

"A who?" Haymitch stared at Effie, utterly confused.

Effie took a deep breath. "Nothing. Never mind. I should get back to the party. I just… wanted you to know I was sorry for the things I said five years ago."

He watched her walk away, blinking away his confusion. She reached the door but he walked towards her, slamming it shut before she could leave.

"Why is it too late, Effie?" he growled.

Effie stared at him, surprised. "Well, gee, I don't know, maybe because you're _taken_."

" _That_ is ridiculous, Effie! Where would you get a stupid idea like that? If I was taken, I'd have never asked you to dance. What kinda man do you take _me_ for?"

"Well that's not what Johanna said."

Haymitch blinked. "Johanna? Earlier she asked me why I hadn't asked you to dance. How could she tell you I was taken?"

"I… she…." Effie huffed. "I walked into the ladies' powdering room when I heard Johanna talking to someone. They couldn't see me, but I could hear them just fine. Johanna mentioned something about you looking so pathetic because you were without the love of your life."

Haymitch snorted. "She was talking about _you_ , Effie." Effie stilled and Haymitch rolled his eyes. "You're insane, you know that?" Effie just kept quiet. "Now I'm gonna ask again: may I have this dance?"

Effie stared at Haymitch for a few moments, her lip trembling. "You can have a lot more than that, Haymitch," she whispered, and then she was in his arms, and she was kissing him, and suddenly he was right back where he started: having trouble breathing.

Neither of them were sure how long they stayed in that room, dancing with each other, but they certainly lost track of time. As far as they were concerned, no one else in the whole world existed other than them.

They weren't just making up for the past five years. They were making up for all those years spent hiding in the Capitol, from the Capitol.

By the end of the night, Haymitch had learned one very important thing: he was never going to dance with anyone else the way he danced with her.


	87. Trick or Treat

_Thanks for the suggestions in regards to Haymitch's Halloween Costume! Happy Halloween, everyone! Be safe and be careful. For those of you who let your kids trick-or-treat, please remember to check their candy. People are crazy out there every day, but ESPECIALLY on Halloween. I didn't celebrate Halloween as a child, and I still don't as an adult, but now as an adult I partake in a turn-up or two LOL. So for all you adults, please also be safe. I'm going as the female joker. For all you people going as HG or HP characters: YALL ROCK!_

 _Also as another treat, I will be posting an extra prompt for HALLOWEEN! A person requested it and I'm going to move it up on the list. But that's for tomorrow._

 **TRICK-OR-TREAT**

 **Rated T**

"I look bloody ridiculous," mumbled Haymitch.

"You do not," Effie said. "You look like a father who's about to take his son trick-or-treating."

"This costume is a trick, and you're getting the treat because you're getting a kick outta this." Effie bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling, but in the end couldn't resist. She burst out laughing, apologizing as she saw the scowl on his face. "That's it. I'm not going."

"Honestly, Haymitch, you look fine." Effie cleared her throat in order to get herself under control.

"I'm walking around with a beard down to my navel, half-moon spectacles, and a bloody cape."

"It's not a cape. It's a _robe_. And don't forget this."

"A stick?"

"A _wand_ , Haymitch. Seriously, we've been through this a thousand times."

"You've read him that bloody book a thousand times," complained Haymitch, lifting his chin so that Effie could straighten his white beard hair.

Effie rolled her eyes. "There are _seven_ books in this series. We're only on book two."

"And how are these books so good that I have to dress up as this freak?"

"You sound like Petunia." She stepped back to glance at him.

"Who?"

"The horse-faced wife married to the walrus."

"With the garbage disposal as a child?"

"Yes."

"Why do I sound like her?"

Effie groaned. "You're deemed perfect. Let's go check on our son before I strangle you with all these questions. Maybe if you stopped falling asleep you'll know what the story's about." They made their way their son's room.

"It's not my fault the books are boring."

"Books one and two _are_ awfully dull. Books three through seven get better. They say she didn't write those books, and I actually believe it."

"Personally I think these books are way too mature. The boy's an abused orphan whose parents got killed by a Dark Wizard. Never thought anything would ever be worse than the Hunger Games, but this is pushing it."

Haymitch had a point, Effie realized, but at this point it was too late. The boy was invested, and so was Effie. She'd always loved reading as a child, and now she got to share some of her favorite stories with their son.

They found Ash dressed, a lightening shaped scar on his forehead, his glasses on, and his wand in his hand. Haymitch stopped in his tracks and gaped at his son. Then he whirled on Effie.

"Whey does he look normal and I have to look like _this_?"

"Because _he's_ Harry Potter and _you're_ Dumbledore."

Haymitch stared at Ash. "Well why does he have a black cape and mine has to be _purple_?"

"It's not a cape, Daddy, it's wizard's robes!" Haymitch glared at Ash.

"And your robes aren't purple," corrected Effie. "They're periwinkle, and that's the color Dumbledore wore."

"I feel as dumb as a door," Haymitch sighed, rolling his eyes.

Ash looked up at Haymitch. "I think you look good, Daddy. Dumbledore is like a dad to Harry, so I thought…." His voice trailed off. "But if you don't like it…."

The death glare Effie sent him had absolutely nothing to do with him bending down and pulling Ash to him. "Well played, Tiger," Haymitch said with a smirk. "I'll wear the costume, but only because you want to. Now let's get your tie on, you little Gryffindor."

Ash beamed at his father and lifted his chin, in an identical move Haymitch had done for Effie.

After being deemed perfect by Effie they all made their way downstairs. As soon as they got there Peeta and Katniss walked in, dressed as Sally and Jack Skellington. Haymitch whistled, impressed.

"Dumbledore and Harry Potter. _Nice_ ," Peeta grinned. "I saw the Sanderson Sisters. They're a few houses down."

"Who?" asked Haymitch.

"Oh I just love Hocus Pocus," Effie said. "I'm so glad Plutarch bought back so many of the classics." Haymitch looked thoroughly confused, and was about to ask for clarification when Katniss spoke.

"Aren't you dressing up?" Katniss asked Effie.

"No. I spent enough of my time in wigs and costumes. I'll answer the door and hand out candy as myself. You four have fun. Be careful. And Haymitch, don't let him eat all his candy before he gets home."

"Yes, Mother," said Haymitch sarcastically.

Effie ignored him and bent down to talk to Ash. "Remember what we talked about. Be good. Don't runaway from your father or Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta. Listen to them. Be polite. Say thank-you."

"Okay, Mommy."

"That's my boy." Effie pulled him into a hug, kissing his neck.

She stood up and approached Haymitch. " _You_ remember what we talked about as well. Don't be grumpy. Don't rush Ash. Pay attention. Don't be a bully."

"And you don't let the same neighborhood kids keep coming back for more. Don't judge people on their costumes. And _please_ don't deny kids candy because their manners aren't up to Effie's Etiquette and Standards."

Katniss snorted and Peeta laughed. They motioned for Ash to come over, which he did, and the three of them waited outside.

Effie tugged Haymitch closer by pulling his beard. "And if you're a good boy, I promise there'll be a treat waiting for you when you get home."

Haymitch stared at her, making sure he was hearing her correctly. There certainly hadn't been a lot of time for _that_ since they'd bought Ash home. Things had gotten better since Ash was in school, but still, it was nothing like it was before.

"So noted," he said, pulling her close. He pulled the beard away from his face and kissed her until she moaned. His heart hammering he pushed her away. "Remind me why I have to go at all? Katniss and Peeta can handle it."

"Because your son asked you to go."

Haymitch blinked. "Right. Of course. Right." He put his beard back on and left, because he knew if he turned around he'd tell the three of them to go on without him and pin Effie against him and have his way with her.

He knew Katniss and Peeta wouldn't mind, but he didn't want to make a habit out of disappointing his son. He'd disappointed forty-six other kids in the course of his life. Ash wouldn't be one of them.

They walked around Victor's Village first, making their way door-to-door. Ash was clearly having a blast, and so were Katniss and Peeta. Haymitch himself started to have a good time as he helped Katniss and Peeta point out costumes. They spotted a couple of people dressed as Mockingjays, which greatly embarrassed Katniss. They also saw pirates, Peter Pan, Peacekeepers, doctors, and cats.

They trick-or-treated all around Town, Haymitch noting how many people had gotten in the spirit. Orange lights could be seen hanging from windows, there were skeletons tied to trees, and pumpkins were everywhere.

It was strange, and slightly surreal to be experiencing this. Life—Panem—was so different now. Ash met some friends from school halfway through, and Haymitch actually let him run off ahead—as long as he stayed in sight. He could do that. Haymitch could let his son be a _kid_.

"He's so free," whispered Katniss.

Haymitch nodded and bumped Katniss with his hip. "Your kid could be next, in a couple of years."

Katniss stayed silent for a while. "No," she said quietly. "At least not yet."

He understood her. He wouldn't have had a kid either, if Effie hadn't told him when it was too late, but Ash was such a blessing, such a relief. It outweighed the fear. The love.

When they reached Victor's Village, Ash's bag full of candy, Peeta grabbed Ash and put him on his shoulders. "What do you say with us tonight, Ash?"

"Yay!" yelled Ash, and Haymitch stared at them, surprised.

"Effie asked if it'd be all right," Peeta grinned with a wink.

Haymitch practically ran home.

Inside he found Effie waiting for him with a smile. "Did you have fun?"

"Not as much fun as I'm about to have," he told her, walking up to her.

She laughed. "I thought we could start down here and perhaps make our way upstairs."

He pulled her to him, intent on kissing her, when a thought struck him. "This isn't some sort of trick, is it? People have been tricking people left and right."

Effie kissed him, slowly, surely. "Oh no, Darling. There's only treating tonight."


	88. Netflix and Chill

" _Hi! Can you please write one about Effie and Haymitch being disguised for Halloween? :D Thank you!" -laaloqitadepri_

 _So originally I REALLY wanted to dress Effie and Haymitch as Cookie and Luscious Lyon (Empire) but I just couldn't pull it off. For one, as a Black woman, I would never and could never support black face of any kind of anyone, ever. And I can't see Effie dressing as someone like Cookie, even if it'd be hilarious. Not to mention, I didn't see how I'd pull it off without making them look like they were stereotyping my people. SO in the end I went with this. I think it's even better._

 **NETFLIX AND CHILL**

 **Rated T**

"Haymitch Abernathy if you don't get down here in the next fifteen seconds," Effie yelled, her hands on her hips.

"No! I'm not comin'," yelled Haymitch.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"This costume is ridiculous," Haymitch stated, peaking around the corner. She gaped at him, surprised.

"Are you _serious_?" scorned Effie. "You've walked around in the same outfit for _weeks_ , thrown up on my thousand dollar shoes, I've had to bail you out of Capitol jail, not to mention you, Chaff, and Johanna have passed out in various bars over the course of the twenty years we've worked together…. And you're telling me that you're embarrassed by _this_?"

"I was drunk all those times, so I don't _remember_. I'm completely sober for this, Princess."

"Haymitch you've never been insecure a day of your life. Why are you picking _Halloween_ , where you get to wear a _costume_ , to suddenly wonder if you look stupid?"

"I'm wearing a box on my body."

Effie sighed. "You look fine," Haymitch.

"No, _you_ look fine. You're totally in your element with your dark blue dress with snowflakes and silver icicle heels."

"Well I'm chill, Darling. Would _you_ like to parade around in said blue dress and heels?" Haymitch scowled. "I didn't think so. _You_ are Netflix, so I made you a television out of cardboard. Your red Netflix shirt makes it obvious what you are. You look great."

"I feel like an idiot."

"You'll be the talk of the town."

"That's what I'm afraid of," grumbled out Haymitch, finally moving from behind the wall and coming down the stairs. Effie grinned. " _You_ look perfect. I look like an idiot."

"My how the tables have turned," Effie said. "I never thought I'd see the day where you wouldn't make fun of my dress."

"Well I'd never thought I'd see the day where we lived in a _normal_ country under a _normal_ president where you actually preferred _normal_." He looked her up and down and snarled. "When did you wearing an abundant amount of snowflakes start to count as _normal_ anyway?"

"Since you fell in love with me and started to accept me for who I was." Effie smoothed down her dress as Haymitch snorted.

"What you were is a Rebel. And how I never knew is beyond me."

"Honestly, because it was quite obvious you were." She turned to face him, looking him over. "You look great. Let's go to Delly's."

"Explain why we're doing this again?"

Effie sighed, rolling her eyes. They'd been through this a hundred times. "Because Paylor has reinstated this holiday, along with all the other ones—"

"Not _that_. The _party_. Why are we going to the party?"

"Because we were invited, and it'd be rude not to show."

"People will be wearing costumes. We could claim we were one of those masked people or something."

"Can you stop being such a Grinch? Christmas is still a couple of months away," snapped Effie.

He glared at her as they made their way to Katniss and Peeta's. "This holiday is _stupid_. There's good reason why the Districts didn't celebrate shit like this."

"The Districts didn't celebrate holidays because they couldn't afford to. They can afford to now."

"This holiday is for kids."

"You're just partial to Christmas, New Years, and Valentines Day because you get to drink."

"And I get laid. Don't forget that."

She pursed her lips together. "You get laid every night, Haymitch, don't act like you don't."

Effie blushed scarlet as the door swung open at her admission. Peeta just stood there, in his Hulk suit, a plate of cupcakes in his hand, his mouth gaping open, while Haymitch cackled out a laugh.

"I'm just going to act like I didn't hear that." He turned around. "Katniss, you ready?"

"Yes." Katniss appeared, looking much like she did as the Mockingjay, though she had dyed her hair red. She made a stunning Black Widows, and was honestly just as deadly. She looked at them, frowning. "I don't get your costume."

Peeta snorted. "Unfortunately I do," grumbled Peeta.

Effie and Haymitch ignored the constant questions from Katniss and just walked ahead of the young couple. They made their way to Town, Effie waving to some of the people they passed. In Town they saw a lot of trick-or-treaters out and about, the younger ones with their parents. Some of the older kids took their younger siblings. Everyone was dressed up.

They made their way to Delly's, Haymitch stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the house. Katniss bumped into him, tensing.

"What? What is it?" asked Katniss.

"Her house," Haymitch said.

"They're only decorations," said Effie. "It's supposed to look haunted."

"I don't like it," declared Haymitch.

"Oh please," Katniss stated. "We need to fear the living, not the dead. We've faced worse ghosts than this. Let's go."

"I don't like the idea of things coming out of shadows to give me a heart attack. That's not how I pictured my death."

"Relax," said Effie softly, grabbing his hand. "I've talked to Delly. I helped her decorate. You know I wouldn't suggest anything to trigger… anything."

"You helped?" Haymitch asked, looking at her.

"She asked me."

He instantly relaxed, and she marveled at the way he trusted her now. The four of them made their way up the stairs and walked in without knocking, per the sign on the door.

The house was nearly pitch-black inside. They could just make out a zombie with a ridiculous amount of blood and makeup that had Effie stiffening. Haymitch immediately secured his arms around her waist.

"Easy, Princess, you know I won't let anything to happen to you." His voice was low and warm on her ear and it made her look at him. She couldn't believe how often he could do this to her—make her forget where she was.

She gripped his arm as they continued inside the house. They could hear music blasting, and then another person appeared out of nowhere. Effie refrained from screaming, because she knew her husband and her Tributes. Their defenses were already up.

"You're Michonne," said Effie once she got her bearings back and she stared at the dark-skinned woman with dreadlocks and a sword.

"Yes, and I've seemed to lost my zombie. Anyone seen him?" They all pointed behind them. "Room one has a dance floor. Room two is playing horror movies. The kitchen has all the food. Make yourselves at home." She stared to walk off when she turned back around. "Great costume," she said to Effie and Haymitch.

Effie beamed. "Thanks."

"I think the box is kind of extreme, but… it's cool."

Haymitch pulled Effie to him. "You owe me."

"Yes I do," whispered Effie. "Soon as we get home."

"Hey!" Delly appearing out of nowhere nearly had Effie jumping out of her skin. "Oh my God, you made it!" She had hugs for them all. "Haymitch, Effie, your costume is _amazing_. Adding the TV was the perfect touch." Effie smiled at Haymitch but before she could say anything Delly spoke again. "Isn't the house great?"

"It's something, all right," muttered Katniss.

"Great costume," Peeta grinned, handing her the cupcakes.

"Thanks!" Delly was dressed as the Joker, and right then Batman showed up.

"Hey, we're out of punch," he said, and they all recognized Delly's brother's voice.

"Already? My goodness. Make yourselves at home," Delly said to them. "There's something to do everywhere. Upstairs they're playing games. Bathroom is down the hall to the right, and there's another one upstairs to the left. I have to go make punch. See you guys around. Effie, thanks again for all your help."

And then the blonde girl was off.

"So what do you guys wanna do first?" asked Haymitch.

"Movies," Effie said.

"Food," responded Katniss at the same time.

"Dance," Peeta also said.

Haymitch looked at them all. "Look, we're all adults. We'll reconvene at midnight, okay? That's in two hours."

"Deal," Katniss said, and her and Peeta went off one way while Effie drug Haymitch towards the movie room.

"I don't think I wanna, Effie," said Haymitch.

"It'll be fine."

It wasn't fine. They were watching some movie about some Good Guy doll coming to life that set Haymitch's teeth on edge. He tensed at every loud boom, until Effie slid her fingers into his.

"Relax," she said for the umpteenth time.

"I want _out_ ," said Haymitch.

Effie sighed. "It's almost over."

"How do you watch this shit?"

Effie shrugged. "I grew up on this. It pales in comparison to the Games, so…. At least this is fake."

Haymitch gripped her hand tightly as another death occurred. "This is worse than kids killing kids. This is a child's toy killing the child's loved ones because he wants his soul. It's _sick_."

Effie sighed. "Okay, let's go." The two of them stood up, excusing themselves, and Effie pulled Haymitch towards the bathroom so that she could get a good look at him.

He was shaking a little, his eyes dark. She slid her hands to his face and kissed him on the mouth, apologizing.

"Make it up to me," he demanded.

"How?" He just looked at her. "Are you crazy? I am not about to have sex in Delly's bathroom!"

"You've said that before about the kid's house," said Haymitch, already sliding his hands under her dress.

"Haymitch!" He cupped her center.

"You're not wearing any knickers," he said, hardening.

"I didn't expect you to find out now. I was saving that treat for later."

"Well the trick's on you, Princess," said Haymitch, unzipping her dress. "Soon as I get this stupid box off, everyone's going to know the meaning to Netflix and chill."


	89. Relieved

" _Ok this maybe too fluffy but...movie one shot in which haymitch finds out that Effie made it to 13 safe and sound. He was so worried about her not really understanding why and when he finally sees Effie it's pure relief and that's when he finally understands he loves her... Too predictable? Too fluffy? Probably but I do love those stories best lol." Nkneeshaw suggested this._

 _Wasn't fluffy at all lol. I did part of this prompt because I wanted to show progress over several stories about how he realized he loved her and didn't want to rush that all in one one-shot. This one prompt prompted so many 13 fics. Can't wait to show them_

 _Hope everyone enjoyed their Halloween. I saw like a BILLION HP costumes. I was at Downtown Disney last night. I know I scared a few kids with my Joker costume (some little girl actually screamed, I felt HORRIBLE)._

 **RELIEVED**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch unlocked the door, a dark scowl on his face, and then walked inside. He found Effie in a corner, facing the wall, and he bit back his anger. Right now he needed to be gentle, and kind, because she was probably terrified, and he couldn't afford to scare her right now.

But once she was out of here, and safe, heads would fucking roll.

At the sound of the door closing Effie stiffened and slowly turned her head around.

Their eyes met as he slowly approached her, and she frowned at him. The betrayal evident in her eyes had him faltering in his step, but he shook it off and approached her.

"Get up," he said more harshly than he had intended, and she flinched at his words. "Please," added Haymitch at the last minute, and her eyes flickered to surprise.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm getting you a real room and out of this blasted cell," he spat.

Her eyebrows shot up. "You are?"

"Yes. Now get up."

"I _can't_ ," snapped Effie, and that's when Haymitch saw them: the handcuffs. The anger came back tenfold, and he had to take a couple of deep breaths before he absolutely lost it. Oh, they would pay. They would absolutely pay for this.

First they had him worried _sick_. Effie was always supposed to be on the hovercraft with him, only the entire plan went to _shit_ and he hadn't had time to wait for her to get back from her impromptu meeting with a Sponsor. He'd been livid when he found out she wasn't in the Penthouse, a stupid hand-written note taped to his door.

He immediately contacted Plutarch, who assured him that Effie was with Katniss' prep team and would be on another hovercraft. Haymitch was terrified. _His_ hovercraft barely escaped with their lives, and he couldn't understand why he was so on edge in regards to the other hovercraft. The one with his Escort.

He had arrived in 13 snapping at everyone, damn near delirious with fear, and he couldn't understand why. All he knew is that he'd screamed bloody murder when they took him away to Detox without allowing him to make sure Effie landed safely.

They'd stuck a needle in his arm, and he was out for a day.

When he'd woken up he slammed his fist into Plutarch's face, furious. Plutarch had told him Effie was fine, that she was safe, and then he was gone to clean the blood off his face. When Plutarch returned his face was grim, and he'd told Haymitch from several feet away that Coin had locked Effie up and his Escort would most likely be tortured.

Haymitch had demanded to be let go to stop it from happening, but Plutarch said it'd be his ass if he did such a thing. Haymitch shoved Plutarch against the wall, nearly choking out the man he'd worked with for several years. Plutarch used his weight to push Haymitch away, and then left, slamming the door behind him.

It didn't matter.

Haymitch had stolen his keys.

He waited until the middle of the night before sneaking out, knocking out both the guards at his door and the two guarding Effie's cell.

His fist contacting with flesh had felt good, but now, as Haymitch stared at Effie's cuffed hands and feet, he bit his lip to keep from screaming. He turned around and punched the wall, welcoming the pain in his knuckles. Effie gasped and he turned back around to face her.

He looked at the keys on Plutarch's key ring attempting to match them up with the whole in her cuffs, ignoring the blood on his knuckles. When he found the right one he uncuffed her hands and feet.

As soon as she was free she stood up and slapped him.

" _That_ was for not telling me what the hell you were doing. For not trusting me enough to tell me everything you all had planned." She hit him again, and he welcomed that pain too. "And _that_ was for bringing me to this God-awful District, where I can't even wear my wigs and makeup, only to be handcuffed like an animal."

"I'm sorry, Effie. I didn't know. Plutarch only told me today."

"And he will pay for that." Haymitch snapped his neck around and was faced with the woman of the hour. She had two security guards with her.

"Just the woman I wanted to see," Haymitch said coldly.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Coin.

"I'm taking my Escort and finding a room for her."

"This _is_ her room."

"No, this is a cell," Haymitch snapped. "I won't have it. So help me God, if you try and stop me, I will fucking kill you."

Coin raised a cool eyebrow. "Oh really? I'd like to see you try." Haymitch walked up to her, her men moving in front of her. "No. Let him through. I'd like to see him try without his knife in his hand."

"Try me if you want to, Coin. I will stop at nothing to get to you. Did you all forget I'm a Victor? I survived against forty-seven other fucking Tributes, and killed eight of them. I'm not at all afraid of anybody in this fucking District, including the two goons guarding you. I want Effie out of this cell and into a room, or President Snow himself won't be able to stop my wrath."

Coin and him stared daggers at each other for several moments. "Put her in room fifteen," Coin finally said to her two guards.

"And she better be in perfect condition while I'm in Detox, and when I get out."

Coin scowled. "Really, Soldier. All this for an Escort?"

"All this for _my_ Escort," he responded icily. He turned to Effie. "Let's go."

"My men will escort her—"

"Your men better not come within twenty fucking feet of Effie. I don't trust you, so by extension, I don't trust them."

Coin nodded and smiled. "Okay, Soldier. We'll do this your way. But you better be back in Detox within ten minutes, or you will regret it."

Coin left and Haymitch immediately turned to Effie. "Let's _go_ ," he repeated, and she didn't hesitate. She fell into step beside him and they didn't stop until they reached room fifteen. Once inside Haymitch spun Effie around, looking her over.

He grabbed her hands, glancing at the red line where the cuffs had dug into her wrists. He looked at her arms, lifted up her chin, stared at her face, and then bent down to look at her legs and feet.

"Haymitch, I'm fine," she told him.

"Did they fucking touch you?" He forgot all about being kind and gentle. His voice was cold and angry, and it made Effie jump.

"No," said Effie firmly. She hesitated and briefly reached out to him. "I'm fine," she repeated as he pulled her in.

"Are you sure?"

She wanted to say something teasing, something to lighten the mood, something like, 'Gee, Haymitch, I didn't know you cared," only he clearly _did_ care, and he was pissed.

"Yes," she said as he buried his face in her neck.

After several moments he pushed away from her, not meeting her eye. "I gotta get back to Detox. They're not gonna let me out again, and you won't be able to visit me. If anything happens, get to Katniss." He told her Katniss' room number and she nodded, but her eyes welled with tears. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared," whispered Effie. "I don't want what happened to Cinna to happen to you, Peeta, or Katniss."

 _Fuck_. He didn't know how to deal with this shit. But he wouldn't lie to her.

"We're going to war, Princess. Nobody's guaranteed to come outta this alive."

It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but his words had her eyes drying up.

"Will you be okay?" Effie asked him.

He snorted. "Probably not. Sobriety never is." He smirked at her. "Maybe you'll get your wish and get rid of me yet."

"I don't want you to die any way other than by my hands," she smiled.

Safe ground. They were back to their bantering. Bantering he could handle.

These… _feelings_ were something else all together.

"Remember what I said. If anyone bothers you, tell Katniss. I want names."

"I'll be okay. Don't worry about me."

He walked to the door, looking back at the last moment. "Chin up. Shoulders back. Big smiles."

Effie laughed, and he figured it was a pretty thing to hear as he made his way back to Detox.

It was a pretty picture too, to see her laughing.

He'd keep that mental picture for as long as he could.

It wasn't lost on him that he was lighter on feet as he walked back to Detox. He'd been so uptight and worried ever since he'd read that note that Effie had left him. Finally he could breathe a little easier.

He wasn't ready to figure out why Effie being safe made him feel so relieved.


	90. District 9 & Three Fourths

_Here's the Harry Potter crossover I promised! The titles are not a reference to the one-shot, but are just a play on words to unite the two stories that are JK Rowling and Suzanne Collins. If I'm going to unite their worlds, I want it to be obvious. SO FYI, I'm going to try to stick to canon: Haymitch is going to be in on the Rebellion (the second war), Effie is going to be loyal to the Capitol (or the Ministry) and then she's going to realize the error of her ways. This is a three-part series, though they should all be able to stand alone. The first one takes place during Goblet of Fire. REMEMBER, THE TITLE OF THESE OE SHOTS ARE_ _ **NOT**_ _ABOUT THE STORIES PER SAY, BUT ARE A WAY TO UNITE THE TWO SERIES. There is no District 9 and ¾ reference in this whole story. This title is not original, I saw it on a meme._

 **DISTRICT 9 AND ¾**

 **Rated T**

He heard her heels clicking on the wood floors and slowly lifted his head. The pub was pretty empty, though there were still a few after-lunch stragglers left lingering around.

"I'm surprised you showed up," Effie Trinket told him as she approached him, and he blinked at her in her blinding pink wizard's robes. She had on a tall witch's hat, extravagant in its nature, proving that once again she came from a Pureblood family, and had more money than Merlin himself. The pink leather briefcase also proved that. How much money did one have to have in order to get their leather dyed _pink_? She was definitely from a different world than him.

"Had to, didn't I?" slurred Haymitch. "The Ministry didn't leave me much of a choice."

"Well we've certainly been trying to reach you for _months_ , Haymitch." She sat down across from him, taking him in. He looked worse for the wear. His robes were tatty, his shirt wrinkled, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. She could tell he was nearly drunk, but that wasn't a surprise. He was _always_ drunk. She was so used to seeing him with a drink that she wasn't at all surprised that he had a nearly empty cup next to him.

"Well I'm here now," he told her, and he took a sip of his Firewhiskey.

"Oh do sit up. It's rude to slouch in the presence of a lady."

"When I see a lady, I'll let you know."

She glared at him. "Stop pouting at the fact that I made you leave your filthy house for an hour." He scowled. "Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile on. At least _pretend_ to be happy." He nearly growled and she refrained from rolling her eyes. She leaned forward. "I fought tooth and nail for you. They wanted to fire you, but I fought for you. Don't make me regret that."

He eyed her. "Don't do me any favors, Princess."

"Haymitch, we're a _team_. Even if you don't really like me." She looked away at those words and he decided not to acknowledge them.

"Can we get on with it?"

Effie sighed. "I'm just here to give you an official warning, Haymitch. You pull another stunt like that, you'll get your Auror privileges revoked. You've already been suspended once."

"I _know_ that," he said, gritting his teeth. He gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"I know you do." Her voice was as soft as his was harsh. He took a deep breath to calm his temper.

"Are we done here?"

Effie sat back and stared at him. She'd known of this man since she was a teenager, had known him for fifteen years, and had worked with him for the past ten. She'd joined the Ministry at seventeen, and thanks to her father had scored herself a good job in the Ministry. She'd worked her way up to Personal Services for Wizard's Office. She, along with several other women, was the liaison between the Auror Office and the Minister. There was one of them for each Auror. Aurors, of course, due to the nature of their job, often needed someone to keep them in line. It was entirely too easy to get washed out, or blur the lines.

Haymitch Abernathy was living proof of that.

She knew his story, of course. He'd been one of the most infamous Aurors of all time. He was brilliant. He was the youngest Auror to join the Ministry, doing so at seventeen, before he'd even finished his NEWTs. The Ministry had offered him a job based on his Ordinary Wizarding Level Exam alone.

But he'd been much too young to deal with this kind of job.

He'd known death, and Merlin knew death knew him.

Everybody in the Ministry knew what had happened to his family. At the end of the war, due to his part in attempting to capture He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a Dark Wizard had killed his entire family, plus the girl he'd been dating. At the very end Lucious Malfoy's mask had slipped off. He'd gone to Minister Millicent Bagnold, and she'd believed him. Things had been fine, at first, aside from Haymitch's increase in drinking, but then Cornelius Fudge took over, and suddenly Malfoy was back around the Ministry.

They'd had a big row about it, it ending with Fudge saying it was a new day and age, it was time to forgive and forget, and if Haymitch wasn't on board… well then, he could be replaced.

But Haymitch was a famous Auror, and you can't just fire _Haymitch Abernathy_ , so Fudge had created the Personal Services for Wizard's Office. For the most part it was a success, except one couldn't control Haymitch anymore than one could fire him. She'd been offered the position six months after the job had been created. Fudge had fired her successor because she couldn't control Haymitch. Fudge had immediately thought of Effie Trinket with her manners and propriety and her ability to not only always get things done, but get them done her way.

Effie and Haymitch were often at odds. How could they not be? He _hated_ the Minister, and by extension, the Ministry. And she _clearly_ was Ministry, so by extension, he hated her too. She tried not to take it too personally. He hated everyone. He definitely hadn't been with anybody else since his girlfriend had been killed, and Effie thought it was truly sad. For him to have been a Gryffindor he certainly had coward-like tendencies.

"Haymitch…." Effie bit her lip, glancing around. She had purposely chosen to have this meeting in a public place instead of at the Ministry. She knew there were eyes and ears everywhere, but at this moment in time, she was safer outside the Ministry. She leaned forward again and he looked at her, his eyes wary. "Listen to me. I don't know what you're up to. The Ministry doesn't know what you're up to. None of us do. I just want you to be careful, okay?"

He stared at her for several moments, his face completely and totally masked. Was she speaking in code to him? Was she letting him know that he wasn't being watched yet, but if he didn't play his cards right he very well could be?

Now he leaned back, taking another sip of his drink. "What are you playing at, Trinket?"

"There are… whispers of funny things happening. The Death Eaters are more active than usual—"

"I thought there were no Death Eaters," he said, his eyes never leaving her face. "Isn't that what your Minister is saying?"

"Some people… disagree. I have a few friends who were at the Quidditch World Cup, and… it was serious, in their opinion."

"Why aren't you talking to Fudge about this?" asked Haymitch bluntly.

"Don't be silly, Haymitch. It's just casual conversation…. Right?"

He stared at her. "What are you wanting from me, Princess? Are you trying to trap me? Get information to see if I've been in touch with my old friends? Because I haven't talked to anyone from the Order in over a decade."

"That's not what I'm saying at all."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I…." What _was_ she saying? "Things are changing, Haymitch. I can feel it. The Minister is… different. Bertha Jorkins has been missing for weeks now, and she's not as loony as everyone is making her out to be. If you keep up the same way you're going, you're going to get yourself killed, or worse, expelled."

He rolled his eyes. "You need to straighten out your priorities, Princess."

"You _are_ my priority, Haymitch."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed. He was desperately trying to cling onto the notion that Effie Trinket was loyal to the Ministry. For as long as he'd known her she had been. He couldn't for the life of him understand what the bloody hell was going on.

He had gotten a letter in the mail saying he had to meet with Effie to discuss his behavior or risk expulsion, and he'd assumed he was going to get a strong talking to due to the fact that he'd openly laughed at the fact that Fudge and Crouch had been humiliated at the World Cup. He'd talked to the Prophet, and it hadn't been the smartest idea, but he'd been drunk, so he'd expected this meeting to be a disaster.

Instead Effie was telling him to _be careful_ and expressing _concern_ and disagreeing with her beloved Cornelius Fudge.

The next time he met with her, he decided he would _not_ be as drunk.

"Are we done here?" he finally repeated.

She stared at him for a few more moments and sighed. "Almost." She reached into her briefcase and pulled out several documents. "You know the routine. Just sign these, stating that we met."

Her voice sounded defeated, and he wondered if, for once, she was finally giving up on him. For some reason the thought had him frowning as he signed his disciplinary papers. He handed them back to her, and his hand brushed hers.

The electric shock of her touch had him freezing on the spot. She, thankfully, didn't notice, nor did she seem at all bothered by the contact. Not like him. This happened to him _every time_ he touched her, so he took special care not to do so. Sometimes it happened though, and like always, he wondered why.

She looked at him just as he'd gotten his bearings back, though his heart was still pounding, and his breath caught in his throat as her dark blue eyes locked with his. He'd always thought she was beautiful, a bloody temptress she was, and sometimes, like now, it hit him out of nowhere.

The fact that he was sexually attracted to a woman who screamed Ministry greatly baffled and irritated him, which is why he tried his hardest to stay out of her presence, or get out of her presence as quickly as possible.

"Staring is quite _rude_ , Haymitch," she snapped at him.

"I'm not staring," responded Haymitch defensively. He immediately looked down and grabbed his drink, throwing back the rest of it and slamming his glass down. He stood up, slightly swaying as he did so.

"You'll be okay, right? You can Apparate home like that?"

He snarled at her. "Careful, Trinket. Almost sounded like you bloody cared."

He sauntered off and she stared after him. Maybe if he weren't always so drunk he'd see that she _did_ care. Maybe if he weren't so spiteful he'd see how desperately she wanted him. _Needed_ him. She wanted him to know that she stood with him, had stood with him for years, but he was just so damn blind.

Sometimes she wished she knew Occlumency.

She'd Avada Kadavra someone to be able to see into that thick skull of his.

Sighing Effie Trinket made her way out of the Leaky Cauldron and headed back to the Ministry.

 _Of course it'll be continued. Stay tuned for part two, 'May the Magic Be Ever In Your Favor.'_


	91. Of Princesses & Potty Mouths

" _LOVED IT! Thanks for always going above and beyond my expectations with my prompts. :)_

 _I see a lot of people love the stories with Ash as do I. I think there's something about seeing them with a little one that really warms the heart. On that note, I adore the ones that you wrote with Willow and Rye. Any chance we can see Hayffie's effect on little Willow? I had this image of Katniss and Peeta being horrified when their sweet child (dressed in something Effie-esque) starts swearing up a storm at Haymitch's stubborn geese, just like her grandfather would. Just imagining it makes me laugh!" Best. Prompt. EVER! I died._

 **OF PRINCESSES AND POTTY MOUTHS**

 **Rated T for language**

"Willow Mellark, if you don't hurry up and get down here so we can go home," called Katniss. "We've been waiting for an hour."

"Would you stop your pestering, woman!" Effie, Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta all dropped their jaws.

" _Excuse me_?" Katniss said, rising. It was obvious she was about to make her way upstairs before Effie stopped her, laying a gentle hand on her arm.

"Don't be angry at her. Be mad at Haymitch. It's his filthy phrase that she repeated." She turned steel blue eyes onto Haymitch. "I _told_ you to watch your mouth around her."

"I had no idea I was influencing her so much," mumbled Haymitch.

Katniss glared at him. "How could you not know? She worships the ground you walk on."

"It's about time someone does," Haymitch argued.

Before Katniss could retort Willow came down the stairs. They all gaped. She was dressed in one of Effie's fancier dresses. It was navy blue, and the top half was full of tiny little pearls. As if that wasn't shocking enough, she also had on bright red lipstick, blush, and jewelry. Lots of jewelry. Like every piece of jewelry Effie owned was on her body.

Effie's mouth sprung open at the sight of Willow.

"Surprise! Don't I look pretty?"

"Willow," whispered Peeta. "Why do you have that on?"

"Because Granpy Haymitch said I was as pretty as a princess, and Aunt Effie _is_ a princess, and she _always_ wears dresses. It's only proper, right Aunt Effie?"

Katniss gave Effie a death glare before turning to Peeta. "Go and get my bow. I'm gonna kill them both."

Before Peeta could respond there was a pecking sound at the back door.

Willow gave a scowl that rivaled both Katniss' and Haymitch's combined and marched to the back door. "Is that Floyd? I bet it is, the bleeding bastard. He's always coming to the door and making a ruckus." Willow swung open the door. "You get back where you belong, or I'm gonna cook you, you stupid goose. You're a fucking nightmare." She turned around, another sweet smile painted on her face. "Told him off, right Granpy?"

"Never mind," Katniss said. "I'ma call Beetee and see if he'll make me another one like I had during the war."

"Let me talk to her," sighed Haymitch. There was an immediate uproar and he scowled at all of them. "I promise I'll handle it," he snapped. Haymitch stood up and grabbed Willow, picking her up and carrying her like a football. She giggled but he didn't smile at her. He took her into the backyard, closing the door.

"What's wrong, Granpy?" asked Willow, sensing he wasn't all that happy. She was great at reading people, even at five, much like her father.

"You're making me look bad, kid." She looked mortified. "Listen, you can't repeat everything I say. It's not proper Princess etiquette."

"Etiquette?" Willow scrunched up her nose.

"It's not proper Princess behavior," Haymitch corrected. "Pretty Princesses don't say what frogs say. You talk more like Aunt Effie. She's a real princess."

Willow pouted. "But that's not how _you_ talk."

Haymitch snorted. "I ain't no princess, Sweet Pea."

"Well how are you supposed to get Floyd to behave?"

"Aunt Effie controls me without cursing."

"Then you should learn how to behave too."

He snorted again. "Speaking of being influenced, there's something else. The clothes you have on are adult clothes, okay? And the makeup. Aunt Effie won't be too happy with you messing with her things. Those dresses and jewels are really expensive."

"I know. They were designed by _Cinna_. He was the bestest designer ever." He stayed silent, not only remembering his friend, but realizing Willow was right. They walked back into the house. Willow got out of his arms and approached Effie. "I'm sorry I went through your things. I just wanted to be pretty." Then she turned to her mother and father. "And I'm sorry for how I talked. It's not proper….?" She looked at Haymitch.

"Etiquette."

"Etiquette," she said. Then she ran upstairs before anyone else could say anything in order to change.

"She knows who Cinna is," Haymitch said to no one, and to everyone.

Katniss rounded on Effie. "You turned my daughter into a _girl_ ," she accused Effie.

"That is ridiculous," disagreed Effie.

"You were the one who let her read all your fashion magazines you subscribe to."

"Katniss, she was dressing up her dolls long before," Peeta sighed, amused. "She's always liked pretty things and purples and pinks and butterflies and rainbows and unicorns. She wanted a pony when she was two."

"I don't want a girl. I don't know how to raise a girl."

"Welp, you better learn," Haymitch grinned.

"I swear Peeta had her. All she wants to do is paint, and bake, and play the piano, and wear dresses."

"I do _not_ wanna wear dresses," Peeta said.

"But _you're_ my son, aren't you?" asked Katniss, kissing Rye's neck and ignoring Peeta. "You like the woods and hunting, don't you? Don't you?" Rye chuckled and grinned at his mother. At that moment Willow came back downstairs, her face washed, and wearing a pair of jeans and a top.

"C'mon, let's go," Peeta said. "And remember, Willow. You're always Daddy's little princess, no matter what you wear."

Willow waved goodbye to Haymitch and Effie and then they were left alone. Haymitch wrapped his arms around Effie.

"Another crisis averted," he said.

Effie shrugged him off. "I _told_ you to watch your language around her. She's very impressionable at this age."

Haymitch scowled. "And what about you? Willow certainly knew how to apply that makeup awfully well."

"It's not _my_ fault she's observant. She must have picked it up."

They continued to argue as they made their way upstairs, where they would ultimately make up.


	92. Mistletoe

_Concluding one-shot of my CHRISTmas series (Chapters 25 and 43). Any other one you see after this is unrelated to them. Lots of fluff. I wish it were Christmas already so I can post A Panem Christmas Carol LOL. Until then, enjoy these._

 **MISTLTOE**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch and Effie walked towards Victor's Village, bags of food in their hands.

"That's it. I'm finally investing in a car. It's cold as hell," complained Haymitch, his feet crunching in the snow. Effie laughed at his grumbling, knowing he was just talking.

"Do you even know _how_ to drive?" asked Effie.

"Yes. And I know how to fly." She stared at him, surprised, and he smiled smugly at her. "Being a rebel had its perks."

"It _is_ cold," Effie agreed after a strong gust of wind blew. Haymitch switched his groceries to one hand and pulled her into a hug. She smiled.

He'd been doing this a lot more lately. Being affectionate. She had no clue why, but she assumed it had to do with Christmas being a few days away. Everybody had gotten into the spirit. The Town itself was decorated. Shops had put up Christmas lights, and Christmas trees could be seen in several store windows. Snowmen could be seen in numerous front yards, and Christmas lights shined brightly on the houses, highlighting the light snow falling, making all of 12 look like a giant snow globe.

Even the kissing gates of Victor's Village were decorated with garland and lights, and there was a welcoming wreath on each door. They stepped inside, walking on the path that had been created by all the families who walked the same path. They made their way to Katniss and Peeta's place, knocking. With their okay to come in, they walked inside.

The house was beautifully decorated in tones of gold, red, and green. The fireplace was blazing and the television was on. They were watching the pre-Christmas parade, which took place in the Capitol. It was always televised, but Effie imagined this was the first time they'd watched it.

"Thanks for going to the store," Peeta said with a smile, walking up to them.

"Well it was only fair, figuring you were doing the cooking," smiled Effie.

"Katniss, can you help Effie put up the groceries for me?"

"Sure," Katniss said, and Haymitch stared suspiciously at Peeta as the two women grabbed the bags and made their way to the kitchen.

"What's goin' on?" asked Haymitch.

Peeta stepped up to him, whispering. "You did get Effie a gift, right?" He blinked at Peeta. "Because I know she keeps saying no gifts, but she's a woman, so she definitely got you something, and she expects you to have something for her."

"Does she now?" Haymitch said, amused.

Peeta looked at him. "You got her a gift."

"Course I did. Do I look like an idiot?" Peeta just stared at Haymitch. "Okay, so I've had my moments in the past, but… I know what I'm doin' okay?"

"Well what'd you get her?"

Haymitch sighed. "Wow. You really have no faith in me."

"Listen, if I ever need to plan a rebellion, you're the first person I'd go to. But Katniss and I both wanted to make sure you did right by Effie. She's made it clear this holiday is important to her."

"You keep talkin' and I'm gonna return you and Katniss' gift."

"I'm trying to figure out if that's actually a good thing or not."

"You know, I used to like you. Years and years ago. Before you and Katniss got married and you didn't sound so much like her. You used to be a good kid."

Peeta gave Haymitch a sheepish smile. "Okay. My bad."

"Come on, Effie," called Haymitch. "Let the boy finish putting up the groceries."

"You could have just walked into the kitchen and gotten me," Effie said, walking towards him. "You didn't have to shout."

"Why not? My voice feels fine." Effie shot him a look as he laughed. He grabbed her hand, walking towards the door. "We'll be back some time tomorrow."

"What did Peeta want?" asked Effie once they were inside their house. Haymitch snorted as he helped her take off her coat.

"To make sure I really got you a gift."

Effie smiled. "I love that boy."

"Yah, yah, yah. Did anyone ask you if you got me a gift?"

"Well I'm an open book, Darling. They all knew." She turned around and slid her arms around his neck, and his eyes immediately darkened. She reached up, standing on her tiptoes, and kissed his jawline.

"You keep that up I'm not gonna make it to the bedroom," he growled, pulling her closer.

"Who said we had to?"

He hardened. He _loved_ this Effie, the Effie that wasn't so prim and proper, who let him bend her over the nearest object. She backed him to the wall and slid down his body, undoing his pants, and he sighed, his eyes rolling back into his head.

 **XxXxXx**

The next morning he rolled over, expecting to find Effie next to him, only the bed was cool. He sat up, glancing at the clock. It was well passed noon. He stretched, noting he hadn't slept this late in a long time. Well, it had been a long night, he remembered with a smirk. He got out of bed and made his way to the shower, noting the water droplets on the shower floor.

So she hadn't been up too much longer before him.

He took a quick shower and changed into the day's clothes. Then he made his way downstairs, where he found Effie at the bottom of the stairs, standing on her tiptoes on top of a stool, her hands holding an object that she was trying to tape to the ceiling.

His heart lurched at how dangerous it was, and before he could stop himself he marched up to her and picked her up.

"Do you have a bloody death wish?" he snapped.

"Honestly, Haymitch, I almost had it!" She pouted at him, until she saw the fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to tape this to the ceiling."

"What the bloody hell is it?"

"Mistletoe."

"What kind of toe? And why are you taping it to the ceiling?"

Effie burst into laughter as Haymitch put her down. " _Mistle_ toe, and it has nothing to do with a foot. It's Christmas tradition. You put it in random places and when people stand under it they're supposed to kiss."

He looked at the mistletoe curiously. "I don't need any more reasons to kiss you. If I want to, I do. Like now." His mouth found its way to hers, and she understood he was doing it more so for comfort than anything.

She must have truly scared him. "I'm sorry," she told him again. "Will you put it up for me?"

He rolled his eyes and grumbled the entire time, but figuring he was several feet taller than her, it was a lot easier for him. She thanked him and then walked around, putting mistletoe in the strangest places.

"Who the bloody hell would kiss under the fireplace?" asked Haymitch as she taped it to the mantle.

"Maybe when you're lighting the fire, and I bend down and kiss you, and then we'll make love next to the fireplace all night."

He stared at her and she smiled. "Works for me."

"I thought you'd say that."

She had him place the last one above the front door, and before he could walk away she slipped her hand around his waist and reached up to kiss him.

He met her half way, their lips taking a familiar route.

She backed away before they got carried away. "We should make our way to Katniss and Peeta's."

"Who?" mumbled Haymitch, pulling her close again.

Honestly, what _had_ gotten into this man?

An hour later they made their way to Katniss and Peeta's.

It already smelled heavenly.

They found them in the kitchen, Katniss cleaning the wild turkey, and Peeta baking cookies.

"Happy Christmas-Eve," sang Effie, smiling.

"Christmas Eve?" Katniss asked.

"Yes. It's the day before Christmas."

"A holiday has a pre-holiday?"

"Of course. Most major holidays do. There's New Years Eve, which is the night of Delly's party. There's All Hollow's Eve, the night before Halloween. And Christmas Eve, of course."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "The Capitol has too many holidays."

"It's not the _Capitol_. These holidays were celebrated for centuries. They'll bring us closer together as a nation. You'll see."

At that moment Peeta spoke. "Now you're sure the menu is normal for Christmas?" Effie just stared at him. "Right. Sorry. This is you we're talking about."

"Peeta, Christmas traditions are whatever you want them to be. Just because we normally had turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing doesn't mean you have to. Make what you want."

"I just want tomorrow to be what you want."

"Tomorrow is not about _me_. It's about _us_."

"We're still a team," Katniss said softly.

"Always," replied Effie. "Now." Effie clasped her hands together. "How can I help?"

"No," Haymitch said. "I'd like to enjoy my food tomorrow, and we don't need you burning down the house."

Effie poked out her lip. " _That_ was quite rude."

"What? You know you can't cook, Princess. Spare us."

"Haymitch is right," grinned Peeta. "You two can go watch television."

"Oh good. I did used to always watch the parade. It's a three day event, and I'd love to know how Paylor's changed it."

Effie settled down on the couch, resting her head on Haymitch's shoulder. It didn't take long for Peeta to join them.

"It's just a lot of talking," Haymitch commented.

He was right. Thirty minutes went by, and Effie was about to turn the station, when a familiar face came on the screen. They all gasped.

"Up next: the Christmas Eve Parade, hosted by yours truly." Caesar Flickerman hadn't aged a day, and his hair was still as colorful as usual. "Thanks for tuning in to the Pre-Show! The Christmas Eve Parade starts… _now_."

Katniss came in then, sitting down on the arm of the couch.

"Thanks for tuning in folks. This is the first year the parade has been televised since President Paylor's reign. She's changed things up a bit this year, the clever woman. To tell us how this year is different, here's Cressida."

Katniss gasped aloud and Peeta sat up. "Thanks, Caesar. This year, instead of many different cities of the Capitol being showcased, President Paylor has made it so that all the Districts are represented. That's right, citizens of the Capitol, in their first true show of unity, will have dressed up in honor of each District, and each District will have its own float."

"Is anybody else terrified at what it is they've done?" asked Haymitch.

"No," Effie said immediately. "It's Paylor. And Plutarch. They know what they're doing."

Sure enough, the parade was incredible. Not at all negative. Each District was represented positively. The citizens of the Capitol could vote monetarily live on their favorite District, and it was obvious early on that 12 and 4 were the favorites. The District who collected the most money would receive half of the proceeds, to go back into their District. The rest of the money would be split up between the other eleven.

"We should call Annie," suggested Peeta.

"She's in 2, visiting Johanna," Haymitch answered.

After an hour of voting and recaps, Caesar announced the winner. "And the winner is, of course, District 12!"

Effie squealed, and Katniss jerked next to her.

"Of course we'll have more details within the upcoming days, but it's no surprise that the Mockingjay's District won. Perhaps we'll get that no camera policy Haymitch Abernathy had instated five years ago banned."

All eyes turned to him.

"That's all we have until tomorrow, folks. Remember, tomorrow's parade is going to be the first time we have a _traditional_ Christmas parade. It'll be very similar to the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, for all you history buffs out there. The guest star will be last year's winner of Plutarch's So You Think You Can Sing. I'm Caesar Flickerman, and I'll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve!"

Haymitch stood up. "Well I'm thirsty. Anybody else?"

"You had cameras banned in 12?" asked Katniss, and Haymitch sat back down with a sigh, realizing he wasn't getting out of this one.

"Of course I did, Sweetheart. Were you really in any shape to deal with them? I sure as hell wasn't. It was one of the conditions I had with Paylor."

"Have you ever stopped playing Mentor?" Peeta asked.

"Nope, no matter how hard I try."

"Well I think it's very sweet," said Effie, wrapping her arms around Haymitch. He snorted and pushed her away.

After a while they made their way back to the kitchen, this time Peeta making them sandwiches for lunch, since the real meal being prepared was for tomorrow. Once again they found themselves in front of the television, Haymitch flipping through the channels.

"Oh, Haymitch go back! It's A Christmas Story!"

"What?"

"A Christmas Story! It's one of the best Christmas movies ever, and it's just starting. Trust me, you'll like it."

Haymitch glanced at Peeta and Katniss, who shrugged, so Haymitch put the remote down and they watched it.

She was right.

It was bloody brilliant. When that little boy's tongue got stuck on the pole Haymitch laughed for what felt like an hour. Katniss laughed so hard she fell of the couch.

Afterwards they watched another Christmas classic, according to Effie. By the end of the movie Haymitch decided the wanted Kevin McAllister as his ally in a Rebellion.

"That kid would have been the perfect Tribute," snorted Haymitch.

"I think the movie's kinda sick," Katniss said. "What kinda mother would leave her child home alone?"

"Mine would have," and all eyes turned to Peeta. " _That_ was a mood killer. I'm sorry." Haymitch and Effie pretended not to see when Katniss slid her hand into Peeta's.

"So what next?" asked Haymitch.

"Ah! _Finally_!" Effie exclaimed. "A Diva's Christmas Carol is on! It's based off of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. This one starred Vanessa Williams, and is pretty good for a TV movie. You'll get the gist of it, and why I call you Scrooge."

"Wait, who's Vanessa Williams?" asked Katniss.

"She was a model and actress, and former Miss America. She was gorgeous."

"Can't argue with that," said Haymitch, tilting his head to the side. Effie elbowed him.

"Maybe I should try and find the one with Jim Carey," Effie muttered, and Haymitch laughed.

"She _is_ pretty," commented Katniss.

"Yah," Peeta agreed, and Katniss looked at him. "If one is into hot models who prance around in tight clothing. Which I'm not."

"Well I am," grinned Haymitch, and he got another elbow in the stomach.

The rest of the afternoon passed. They watched the cartoon version of the Grinch, which Haymitch snorted at the whole time, up until Effie called him a Grinch.

"It's not my fault this movie is corny,' Haymitch muttered.

Up next was Jim Carey's version of a Christmas Carol, which Katniss said she wanted to watch, much to Effie's delight. When it was over Haymitch turned to her. "So you're sayin' that's how I act?"

"Of course not, Darling. You act like the character in the book, who was much worse." Haymitch scowled and she laughed. "It's late, and we should really get going. Peeta, you're sure you okay with dinner?"

"Yes, I'm sure. We'll see you tomorrow."

Effie and Haymitch left, walking hand in hand towards their house, the snow falling thickly.

"Am I really a Scrooge?" he asked her.

"Not always. Sometimes you're asleep." He frowned and she laughed, wrapping her arms around him. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "But you're _my_ Scrooge, and I love you."

"Do you now?"

"More than I did yesterday, and not as much as I will tomorrow."

"Well aren't we romantic?"

"It's this time of year," she murmured. "Look around. Seriously, stop for a minute and look at Victor's Village." Haymitch stopped and stared, noting all the lit houses and the Christmas trees in the windows. "Isn't it just _magical_?"

"Yah, Princess," sighed Haymitch. "It is pretty magical."

She smiled brilliantly at him. "Not always a Scrooge." She kissed him and they made their way to the house. When he opened the door she pulled him to her and kissed him again. "Mistletoe," she reminded him when he looked at her curiously.

"I don't need no mistletoe to kiss you." He closed the door and kissed her to prove it, and she was ready for him, had been ready all day, really, but he stopped her and gently pushed her away. She reversed their positions, pinning him against the door, her tongue in his mouth. "Effie," he breathed.

"I don't really want gentle right now, Haymitch."

"I can tell, Princess, but hold on, okay?" She pouted—she could be _so_ impatient sometimes—and he smirked, taking off her jacket, and then his, gloves going in their pockets. "Come here."

He grabbed her hand and led her to the Christmas tree, keeping the lights off and using the lights from the tree, mantle, and banister to guide them. He sat her down near the tree, ignoring her questioning look, and went to the light fireplace. Afterwards he went and sat down next to her.

"I thought we should exchange gifts. I read that sometimes people do it on Christmas Eve, even if it is traditional to open gifts on Christmas day."

Effie smiled. "You've been reading," she said.

"Yah, I learned how in school." Effie laughed. "Anyway, I didn't really want the kids to share this moment with us. We'll have our moment with them tomorrow."

"Okay," said Effie. "My gift first." She rummaged around until she found the box.

"Do I have to open it a certain way?"

"Don't be silly, Haymitch. It's Christmas. All rules and bets are off. That's what I've been trying to tell Peeta all day. Rip it open."

Haymitch did as he was told, ripping his gift open. He was presented with a black velvet box. He opened it and stared, speechless.

"I know it's flashier than you're used to," Effie said after his silence stretched on, and he could hear how nervous she was. "But I had it especially designed for you."

He pulled out the gold watch, its face a Mockingjay, and kept staring at, still too stunned to speak.

"Do you hate it? I'm sorry. It's just… everybody else has a Mockingjay. Peeta had his medallion, Katniss has her pin. I had my wig. Cinna had his tattoo. It's such a heroic symbol so I thought the war's biggest hero deserved to—" She was cut off with a kiss that had her instantly melting into him and relaxing. "So you like it then?" Effie asked when they finally broke apart.

"I love it," he responded. He put it on, vowing he'd never take it off, and then reached behind his back and handed her his gift.

She took the little rectangle package, and she could tell by the slight tremor in his hand that he was nervous. She wondered what he got her that had him nervous. The man could have given her a hug and it'd have been the best gift in the world.

Like a child she quickly discarded the paper and opened the box.

She gasped. It was a diamond-encrusted pen that glowed pink. There was gold trim around it. She took it out of the box, in awe. It was heavy, and she noted that gold trim was twenty-four carat.

"Oh my God. It's beautiful. It's _perfect_."

"It's a pen," he said with an eye roll.

"It is _not_ just a pen," said Effie. "Do you think _I_ don't recognize jewels and gold when I see it? Besides it's a gift from you."

"That's not your gift," Haymitch said, handing her the box. "At least it's only part of your gift." She took the box and looked inside, noticing a folded piece of paper inside, made to fit the box.

She gingerly sat the pen down on her lap and gently took out the white piece of paper. She unfolded the first half, her eyes widening at the two words at the top of the page:

MARRIAGE LICENSE

"Haymitch." Her breath hitched, and before she could see that he had already signed, as had Paylor, two objects rolled to the floor as she unfolded the rest of the document.

Two gold, circular objects, one with a glittering, sparkling, scintillating diamond sticking out.

 _Wedding rings_.

She picked them up, her hands trembling, and stared at them, until her eyes were blurry.

Finally, _finally_ she looked up at him, his eyes glowing in the firelight.

"Say something," he finally breathed, and she realized why he had been so nervous, and it was probably terrifying for her to not have said anything, other than his name.

Effie looked down at the rings, and then back up at Haymitch.

"Yes," whispered Effie. "Of course yes. I mean what else would I say?" She threw her arms around him and he quickly embraced her, his heart hammering. She buried her face in his neck and he stroked her back.

After he realized she was making it difficult for him to breathe he gently pushed her away. He wiped her eyes, running his fingers through her soft hair.

"We could have a toasting with the kids. The license needs witnesses, so…." He shrugged and she sat back, looking at him.

"Are you going to ask me properly?" she said, and he blinked at her.

"Are you insane?"

She laughed, throwing her arms around him again, this time to kiss him. "Will you at least put the ring on me?"

He sighed dramatically and grabbed her ring. He placed it gently on her finger, his eyes locking with hers.

It fit perfectly.

She grabbed his ring and put his on his finger, then she locked them together.

"So you want to marry me on Christmas?"

"You like the day, so…."

She smiled softly at him. "When do I get to sign with my pretty pink pen?"

He snorted. "Tomorrow, Princess." He leaned in for a kiss, and she kissed him back, this time with the same urgency as earlier.

And just like then, he didn't need mistletoe to kiss her.


	93. Not Leaving

_A/N: Not a prompt. Kind of a song fic. Nickleback's Far Away was the inspiration for this story._

 **NOT LEAVING ANYMORE**

 **Rated M for language**

"Aunt Effie!" the little boy cried, and before anyone knew what was happening, the little boy was running across the banquet hall, flying towards the woman.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Effie, and in an obviously practiced move the boy jumped into her arms and she caught him, spinning him around a few times. Her eyes bright, her smile genuine, she and the little boy laughed until she put him down, crouching down so that she was eyelevel with him. "Let me look at you." Her Capitol blue eyes roamed over his body. "You've gotten so big!" He was such a handsome little boy. "You look just like your father, Finn."

"Yah, I'm almost six now. I was four last time you saw me."

"Holy shit," a familiar voice exclaimed, and Effie stood up, meeting Johanna's eyes. "I thought you were a fucking myth. I mean they _say_ Haymitch rescued you in the Capitol, but who the fuck has seen you since?"

"It's certainly not my fault every time I came to visit 4 you were never there."

"Well I'm kinda a big deal in 2, so…." Johanna shrugged and the two women stared at each for several moments. Then they were in each other's arms. Johanna pushed Effie away after a couple of seconds. "Enough mushy shit."

"I'm so glad some things never change," said Effie with a smile.

At that moment a pretty redheaded woman embraced Effie. Effie laughed and hugged her back.

"Oh my God, Effie," Annie said. "I seriously had no idea you were coming."

"Well, surprise," said Effie.

" _Effie_?" Effie stilled and looked passed Annie.

"Hello, Peeta," Effie said softly.

"Oh my God," exclaimed Katniss, and the dark-haired girl was suddenly in her arms.

"Katniss," Effie breathed, and then Peeta was there too. After several moments she pushed them back. "Let me look at you two."

They were grown. Peeta was more handsome than ever. His hair was blonder than she remembered, his eyelashes longer than ever. He looked _good_. He had gained back all his muscle, and then some, and he wore a goatee now. Katniss' hair was even again, her face fuller, her scowl less haughty. She had a warm smile on her face as she stared at her former Escort.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" asked Peeta.

"Yah, we coulda picked you up at the train station," Katniss said.

"What, in your wedding dress? Absolutely not," responded Effie. "You looked beautiful, by the way. Absolutely gorgeous."

"You look…" started Katniss, and Effie felt herself blush.

"Different, I know." Effie, suddenly nervous, started playing with her black hair.

"I wasg gonna say pretty," said Katniss. "You look so much better without the wig and makeup."

"Been tellin' her that for years, but she never fucking listened to me."

The world seemed to stop at the voice. Suddenly the entire room was extremely silent. It was like everybody was holding their breath. Even the music playing in the background seemed to have stopped playing. Katniss and Peeta stepped aside, and Effie got her first look at Haymitch in five years.

He was standing by the bar, dressed handsomely in his black suit. His hair was longer than ever, and curlier than she remembered, though the truth was she might have just forgotten. It'd been so long…. Had his eyes always been that shade of grey? Had his lips always been that shape?

"Hello, Haymitch," she finally said after a long pause.

"Princess," was his only response, with a slight nod, and then he was turning towards the bar, ordering another drink.

Effie tried not to frown.

"How long are you in town?" asked Annie.

"Not long," Effie responded. "I just wanted to see the ceremony."

"I'm so glad you came," said Katniss. "When you didn't RSVP we thought…." Katniss' voice trailed off.

"Yes, I suppose it was terribly rude of me not to do so, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it. Coming was a last minute decision."

"Yah, we can tell by your dress," snorted Johanna. Effie looked down at the slim, metallic gold dress she wore, suddenly uncomfortable. It was the plainest dress she owned. The people in the Capitol would drop dead if they saw her in it—not that she'd care—but maybe it was still too much for 12.

"Cinna designed this dress," Effie said softly.

"I think she looks perfect," Peeta said with a smile, and Effie smiled back at Peeta, grateful.

"The wig's gone but she's still an Escort," was Johanna's response.

Effie stiffened.

"Johanna." Haymitch's voice held a cold warning in it.

"What? Oh come on, Trinket, I'm just fuckin' with you. I forgot you're like super sensitive. Everyone gets my sense of humor except you." Effie frowned at her and Johanna rolled her eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I still hear your screams in my dreams."

She blinked at the girl. "Why would that make me feel better?" asked Effie.

"Cus Annie said you still hear mine."

Again, the room grew silent as Effie blushed.

"Effie," whispered Katniss. Effie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I—I think I should go," Effie said. "I shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake."

"Effie," sighed Annie. "You _know_ Johanna. Don't take it personally."

"No, I—"

"You can't leave," Peeta said. "You just got here."

"I saw the whole ceremony. I would have been at the reception sooner but I actually lost my original train ticket so I had to go and buy another one."

"Well I personally think it's rather _rude_ to show up to a wedding and not even dance with the groom."

Effie touched her neck and her hair, glancing around. They were all looking at her, except Haymitch. She felt trapped and cornered. They weren't being fair. It was all too much, too soon.

"Come on, Effie. Just one dance. If you still want to leave after that, no one will stop you."

Effie bit her lip and stared at her former Victor. "Okay," she finally said, and Peeta gave her a contagious smile.

"I believe there was a proper way to do this," Peeta said, and placed his hands where she had taught him to all those years ago before their Games.

"We could dance how you normally do in 12," said Effie with a smile.

"You didn't even really let me show you how we dance in 12."

"Seriously? I had forty-two other Tributes before you and Katniss, and every single one of them has tried to show me how you all dance in 12. I'm pretty sure I remember."

Their laughter could be heard over the music as Effie and Peeta danced together, switching between the traditional moves of 12 and the proper ways of the Capitol. Eventually the two of them started to do their own thing, until a slow song started to play.

She was relieved at the slower pace, realizing that she wasn't as young as she used to be. As she got in position she saw Katniss and Haymitch make their way to the dance floor.

 _This time, this place misused, mistakes_

 _Too long, too late, who was I to make you wait_

 _Just one chance, just one breath_

 _Just in case there's just one left_

Effie had never heard the song before, but she knew it was old. It spoke of the kind of love that existed pre-Apocalypse. She looked up, and she couldn't decide if she was surprised or not to find Haymitch staring back at her. They seemed to be in sync with each other—Katniss and Peeta danced on the same route, so that every time Katniss and Peeta turned, Effie and Haymitch faced each other.

She felt the lump in her throat, and it was a relief that in that moment Peeta spun her around, distracting her.

 _'Cause you know, you know, you know_

 _That I love you_

 _I've loved you all along_

 _And I miss you_

 _Been far away for far too long_

 _I keep dreaming you'll be with me_

 _And you'll never go_

 _Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore_

She was laughing by the time Peeta finished spinning her, but then her laugh caught in her throat as she found herself face-to-face with Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta in each other's arms.

The two of them didn't even glance back at Effie and Haymitch; they just kept dancing.

"Fucking bloody kids," he spat, a scowl on his face.

Effie stilled, completely unprepared to be left alone with Haymitch. They stared at each other for several moments, neither one of them moving. They seemed to be frozen in place, and unable to look away from the other.

 _On my knees, I'll ask last chance for one last dance_

 _'Cause with you, I'd withstand_

 _All of hell to hold your hand_

 _I'd give it all I'd give for us_

 _Give anything, but I won't give up_

 _'Cause you know, you know, you know_

His hands finally made their way to the small of her back and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

They never took their eyes off each other, until she smoothly stepped closer and rested her head on his shoulder. His hands caressed the small of her back and she suppressed the urge to shiver. Instead she embraced him tighter, breathing him in. He smelled like booze, coal, and dirt.

She was glad some things never changed.

 _That I love you_

 _I've loved you all along_

 _And I miss you_

 _Been far away for far too long_

 _I keep dreaming you'll be with me_

 _And you'll never go_

 _Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore_

"I have to go," she finally said, because if she didn't say something she was going to burst into tears, and she had worked too hard to keep herself composed for all these years.

He stiffened against her but didn't immediately let her go. "Can't say I'm all that surprised."

She stepped back to look at him. His eyes were guarded and filled with turmoil.

"I'm sorry," whispered Effie.

"You were sorry last time, too." His voice wasn't cold, just terribly detached, and somehow that was worse.

Way worse.

She reached out and touched his cheek, even as she felt him tense under her fingertips. Her thumb traced the outline of his jaw, making its way to his lips.

The kiss she gave him was hesitant, and quick. She was afraid he'd jerk away and leave her humiliated if they lingered too long, so it was over before it started, and then she was gone, walking away.

She couldn't even find it in herself to say goodbye to Peeta and Katniss, or Johanna, Annie, and Finn.

 **XxXxXx**

"You're a fucking idiot if you let her walk away twice," Johanna said, and Haymitch ignored her, throwing back another shot.

"Jo's right," said Peeta, and Haymitch ignored him too.

"Stop being brainless," Johanna snapped, and Haymitch shot her a look.

"Guys, can you give Haymitch and I a minute?" asked Katniss.

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Great. Leave Haymitch alone with the girl who had to have her boyfriend hijacked to realize she loved him. People from 12 are hopeless."

"Thank you Johanna," Katniss said. When they all left Katniss turned to Haymitch. "Go get her." She spoke firmly, and with a voice that shouldn't be argued with.

"I didn't tell her to leave. Not this time, or before I brought you back from the Capitol."

"Can you stop being fucking miserable for five seconds? Just allow yourself to _feel_ something, Haymitch, and you'll see that letting her leave will be the second biggest mistake of your life, _after_ letting her go the last time."

"If she wanted to stay, she would have," snapped back Haymitch, and Katniss glared at him.

"Go get her," she said softly.

Haymitch stared at Katniss for several moments, wanting to tell her a thousand things: to mind her own fucking business, that she had no business meddling in his affairs, that she didn't know what the fuck she was talking.

Only he'd done to her what she was doing to him, a few times, in regards to Peeta, when she was too thick skulled to know she loved the boy.

He'd been right about Peeta, and she was right about Effie.

So with a deep breath, he made his way out of the justice building and headed towards the train station.

For whatever reason, the walk felt longer than usual. He walked quickly, passing several people along the way. A lot of them called out to him, but he ignored them. They were used to it, and probably thought he was trying to catch his next batch of liquor.

Close enough.

Haymitch tried very hard to remember what time Effie said her train left. He wasn't even one hundred percent sure she'd given a time.

It didn't take him long to realize he was too late.

The train pulled off just as he arrived.

His heart in his throat he attempted to run after it. "Effie. _Effie_!" Haymitch called, as if somehow that would make the train stop and turn around. He stared at the train, watching it get farther and farther away, his heart sinking.

He was too late.

Again.

And then—

"Haymitch?" The voice was so quiet that he was sure he imagined it. Yet he still found himself turning around, slowly, so slowly, for fear that he was mental.

He openly stared at the woman in front of him, his eyes looking her over from head to toe. She sat but three feet in front of him, posted on the bench, where she would have to have seen the train arrive, and take off.

She stood, looking as surprised as he did. "You came," she said, her voice in awe.

"You stayed," responded Haymitch, slowly walking towards her.

"Yes." There were tears in her eyes as he stood in front of him. "I decided I wasn't going to leave. I was going to get a room at a hotel, give you some time to calm down, and then I was going to show up on your doorstep and demand you give me another chance to stay."

Haymitch blinked at Effie. "That's rather rude, don't you think?"

She choked out a sob, tears running down her cheeks. He pulled her to him, wiping her tears.

"I'm so sorry, Haymitch. Please don't hate me."

"I don't. I couldn't hate you if I tried—and I've definitely tried to, ever since the beginning."

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "Never let me go," she whispered.

"I won't Princess. As long as you're breathing." He gently pushed her back, staring at her. "Come on. Let's go home."

"You should drink while you can. I'm getting rid of it all. And I'll probably get on your nerves in a few days time, but you better get used to it. I'm not leaving anymore."

He held on to her, believing her.

 _I wanted, I wanted you to stay_

 _'Cause I needed, I need to hear you say_

 _That I love you, I've loved you all along_

 _And I forgive you, for being away for far too long_

 _So keep breathing, 'cause I'm not leaving you anymore_

 _Believe it, hold on to me and_

 _Never let me go, keep breathing_

 _Keep breathing, 'cause I'm not leaving you anymore_

 _Believe it, hold on to me and_

 _Never let me go, keep breathing_

 _Hold on to me and never let me go_

 _Keep breathing_

 _Hold on to me and never let me go_


	94. Masquerade Ball

_Drabble, because I love Masquerade Balls, and felt Haymitch and Effie should attend one. I know it's longer than a thousand words, but trust me. It's drabble-esque LOL._

 **MASQUERADE BALL**

 **Rated M**

He had figured that she would be easy enough to spot in a crowd, and he was right. He'd spent twenty years watching her walk in and out of Capitol puppets, and tonight would be no different.

He noticed her as soon as she walked down the stairs. He knew her demeanor, her stance, her walk, her body language.

He knew a lot more than that too, though he didn't want to think about that now.

She looked better than anybody else in the crowd. She hadn't always. It took him years to see her, to really see her, but once he knew her, he always knew her. She was like a candle, constantly burning. Tonight was no different. She wore a black couture dress, lace and leather mixed throughout. It hugged every curve and reminded him of his hands being in places they probably had no business being.

Her mask was lace, though if anyone thought it'd help her be more recognizable, they were wrong. It covered most of her face, aside from her bright red lips and those forget-met-not blue eyes.

He watched her for a good hour. She wasn't better yet, he noted, but pretending. Her smile was slightly strained, her hands shaking slightly as she waved or checked her hair and straightened her mask.

Her wig was gone, but her dark red hair was longer than he'd ever seen it, and it was thick enough to stand on its own atop her head. She stood out to him, he realized, and probably always would.

She was still fucking beautiful.

He welcomed the familiarity of possessiveness floating through him as he watched her dancing with the Capitol puppets. Only one of them had his stomach churning. He was clearly somebody that Effie knew, and was at ease with. He could tell because she danced closer with him than anyone else.

It was that moment that he decided he'd waited long enough, and he made his way through the crowd. He reached her just as the song ended, and she stepped away from whoever the Capitol lackey was.

He didn't say anything to either of them. He just touched the small of her back as he passed her, and then stood in front of her, his arms around her. Her breath caught in her throat at his touch and he noticed that he was the only one who did that to her.

"Haymitch," she whispered quietly, and he was way too thrilled to admit how happy that made him.

"I didn't know if you'd recognize me or not," said Haymitch.

"I spent twenty years with you at parties. I'd know you blindfolded." He stared at her, dancing to the music, their eyes locking. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," he told her. "Paylor said that she'd only turn forty once, and she'd like to spend it with those who mattered most to her."

"Are the kids here too?"

Haymitch shook his head. "We were under agreement that we weren't ready to come back here yet."

Effie looked at him, her head tilting slightly to the left. "Yet here you are."

"Yet here I am." Haymitch nodded. "I woke up in the middle of the night and decided I was coming. Didn't even tell them. They're probably worried sick, though if I'm being honest, they're probably hoping I came here."

"Why?"

"Because I'm miserable without you, Princess."

There. He'd said it. He'd set out to come to do what he had meant to do. He figured it was the mask. It hid most of his face and gave him an amount of confidence he wasn't used to. Whatever happened now would be up to her.

She stopped dancing with him, and immediately lowered her arms. "I'm broken Haymitch."

And just like that the façade was gone.

"You're not broken. You're hurting because we were supposed to be a team, and I left you."

"I don't know how to trust anyone. Relationships are gone. Not just because I hate being here, and couldn't imagine forming friendships with these people, but because I can't tell when people are lying to me anymore."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her away. She gripped his hand, following behind him, and they made their way outside into the foyer. That was crowded with people too, so Haymitch led her up to the second floor, and then up to the roof.

"I see you still know your way around a building," said Effie.

"I could tell you the ins and out of every District in my sleep," Haymitch responded.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Let me see you, Haymitch."

"No. I won't be able to say what I need to any other way."

Again she tilted her head to the side. "I know you're sorry. Apology accepted."

"I'm not here to apologize to you again. Do you think I got on a train and came here to fucking apologize? I want you to come back with me, Effie."

She blinked at him and then backed away. His heart sunk. She didn't immediately respond to him. Instead she turned and faced the skyline, taking in all the buildings. When she finally turned to him again her eyes were filled with tears.

"Please let me see you."

He stared at her for several moments, and then reached behind his head and untied his mask. She looked at him, her eyes never leaving his. After a few moments she reached out and touched him, her fingers brushing against his five o'clock shadow.

"You're sober," she stated matter-of-factly.

"In this moment? Yes. All the time? No." She didn't say anything. "Do you need me to be? I can be. Sobriety is my punishment. Trust me, drinking would be easier. It'd be so much easier." He was practically begging. He was damn near about to gravel at her feet to get her to come back with him.

She faced away from him again. This time she stared out at the Capitol for so long that he ended up facing the view with her.

"How'd you know it was me? All the masks, all the dresses, all the women… how'd you know?"

"I'd know you anywhere, Princess."

She didn't respond to that either, but after a few minutes her hand slid into his. He didn't move, too afraid to even squeeze her hand.

"Come on. Let's go home." The words nearly made him weep with relief, and he immediately started to walk in case she decided to change her mind.

They didn't even stop at her place and gather her things. She said they wouldn't be accepted in 12, and he agreed. They just made their way to the train station. They walked to their compartment, Effie immediately closing the door behind her.

They didn't have to worry about things like cameras anymore, so when she climbed on top of him they weren't worried about being seen. Heard was a different story all together.

He unfastened his pants and groaned out a curse word when she sank down on him. He gripped her hips tightly, his nails digging into her flesh.

He reached around her to start untying her dress. She stiffened against him but he kissed her, his hands working wonders as he tasted her. He wished he could rip it or use his knife but she had nothing to change into if he ruined her dress.

"Haymitch, don't," whispered Effie, but he ignored her, his lips traveling to her throat as he _finally_ succeeded in getting her dress off.

"Your scars mean nothing to me, Effie," he told her, and he pushed her dress down and wrapped his lips around her breast. Her body jerked but he paid her no mind. After a few moments he felt her speed up. He watched her as she started to untie her mask, but he removed her hands. "Leave it on." It was _doing_ things to him, he realized.

She came, her body bucking against his. She raised her arms, using the ceiling as leverage, as she sped up even more. _That_ was a new move, and it had him cumming, violently, as she rode out her orgasm with a newfound sense of determination, until she clinched around him again.

She fell on top of him, her breathing heavy.

"I missed you," she told him.

"I missed you too, Princess."

"Don't ever let me tell you no again, okay?" She looked at him. "We're going to fight. We don't know how else to communicate. But if you tell me to stay, and I say no, just pick me up and bring me to our room. I can be stubborn. I was a fool not to come back to 12 with you."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, vowing he'd never let her go.

All these memories came back to him as he stared at the masks. He'd found them while going through his attic. Effie was gone again, this time permanently, off to a better place now. He couldn't believe she was gone. She had been, for six years now, and sometimes he wondered how he got through without her.

He supposed the kids helped. They were in her, and whenever they came to visit he was reminded of the perfection that was Effie. Didn't stop him from missing her, though. He'd kept his promise for over fifty years. He hadn't had to keep her with him. She willingly stayed, giving him two children and a happy home.

He didn't return to his bedroom when he'd woken up to find that she'd passed on, peacefully, in her sleep. He hadn't even been angry. They were old, and she had been telling him for the past ten years or so that she would go first, because the thought of living without him was unacceptable.

He stood up, the masks still in his hand. He went back down to his new bedroom—one of the old guest bedrooms—and hung the two masks up on the wall.

He hadn't thought about that night in years. Effie made him promise to stop living in the past, and to just _live_ , and she'd given him plenty to live for over the years.

But he'd always be grateful for that night that he'd been invited to a ball that'd change his life for the better.

 _Uh. Yah. Had no idea I'd have Effie die at the end of this. So depressed. Never again. Went from Drabble to depressed. So sad._


	95. First Fight

_My own prompt._

 _Also: I can't take anymore song-fics for the moment. I'm burnt out. My apologies. I could use some more 13 prompts, though, or pre-MJ_

 **FIRST FIGHT**

 **Rated T**

Effie made her way downstairs, the flickering illuminations from the television lighting her path.

"Haymitch?" she whispered as she approached the figure on the couch.

"What?" snarled Haymitch. "Come to yell at me some more?"

Effie didn't immediately answer. She walked to the edge of the couch, her arms folded across her chest. If he weren't so mad at her he'd notice the way his shirt fell just at her thigh, highlighting those long legs of her.

"Come to bed," she whispered. "It's late."

"I _am_ in bed, remember? You sentenced me to the couch. Wouldn't even let me shower in my own bathroom."

Effie sighed. "Yes, Haymitch, but I didn't expect you to _listen_. You never listen to me."

"I always listen to you."

"More or less. Just listen to me now and come to bed."

"No thank you," he pouted. "I found a rather pleasant movie to watch, and I'm quite comfortable. Even without a blanket or pillow." He folded his hands across his own chest as if he were a child, and Effie muttered something that sounded a lot like 'hopeless' and stomped back upstairs.

He frowned as she clomped upstairs. He thought she'd put up more of fight than that. A few seconds later she was making her way back downstairs, their bed cover wrapped around her, and a pillow in her hand.

Great. He'd walked right into this one. He should have just run up the stairs as soon as she asked him to. Now he was _really_ about to be stuck on the couch.

She approached him, her face set, and slammed the pillow into his face. He blinked in shock for several moments before slowly removing the pillow from his face. He narrowed his eyes at her and she arched an eyebrow.

He took a deep breath and then placed the pillow under his head, her scent immediately hitting him.

So rude. She'd purposely given him her pillow so he'd ache for her all night.

This husband business was more trouble than it was worth.

Or so he thought.

Next thing he knew, Effie climbed on top of him and then pulled the cover over them. She snuggled into him, getting comfortable and making him _very_ uncomfortable in the process.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I don't like sleeping without you, and I don't like going to bed mad at you, okay?" She looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest.

Bloody hell.

His wrapped his hands around her, rolling his eyes. "I'm not mad at you, Princess. I'm just giving you a hard time. I was gonna come up to bed. I can't sleep without you, either."

"I don't even know what we were fighting about," she said softly.

"Something stupid," snorted Haymitch. "We're married now. That's what we do. Fight about stupid things."

"It was our first fight as a married couple."

"You'd think we'd have had all the fights possible."

"Well you know," Effie said, and Haymitch stilled, because she was using _that_ voice that he loved so much, "there's a general rule about fights…."

Haymitch grinned. "Apology accepted."

Effie rolled her eyes. "As a general rule, _husbands_ apologize, regardless of if they're wrong or right."

"Not this husband."

"Oh? Well then this wife doesn't…." Haymitch gasped when she gripped him.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I'll never do it again."

Effie laughed. "We've had make up sex before, but never as a married couple. Let's see how you do."

Hm. A challenge. Maybe this married business wasn't so bad after all.

And as far as first fights go, with the way Effie was quivering underneath him, and clawing at his back, he realized they weren't so bad either.


	96. Pumpkin Spice Latte

_Hey guys! So I'm participating in a challenge on fanfic, so this is a part of that. Juliet's Shadow invited me along, and I thought it'd be a great way to give me some original ideas. So forgive me for pushing her prompt ahead, but I wanted you all to know what was going on. I won't put all of these prompts first, trust, but I'll be posting the ones I write in both destinations. Hope you all enjoy! =)_

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_

 **PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE**

 **Rated T—heavy T**

Effie took a seat, gently rubbing her face as the train finally took off. She'd seen Katniss and Peeta off to bed and then had made her way back to the living room. She slid next to Haymitch, turning on the radio on the side table next to him. Then she made her way to the dining table, where she sat down, utterly exhausted.

The Victory Tour had yet to be a true success, and stopping in 8 had _not_ helped them at all. She couldn't wait until this damned thing was over. She'd waited twenty years for this, and now that it was here, she wished and longed for the days before she ever had Victors.

Cinna sat the cup down in front of Effie, who smiled gratefully at her stylist. Portia sat down next to her, a foam cup of what smelled like hot chocolate in her hand.

"You are a Godsend," Effie said, taking the foam cup and immediately bringing it to her lips. "I don't even know what you did to get this, and I don't care." She took a tentative sip of her drink, sighing at the taste.

"It wasn't a problem at all," replied Cinna with a smile.

"What is it?" Haymitch asked, slouching in an armchair, his legs spread, a glass of liquor in his hand. He eyed the way Cinna started giving Effie a backrub. He wasn't jealous of Cinna, but Haymitch couldn't help but dislike the way she was moaning at the contact.

"It's a pumpkin-spiced latte, or as I like to call it, heaven in a cup."

Haymitch snorted and rolled his eyes. "Sounds like something from the Capitol."

"Apparently not. Cinna was able to score it here, in 8." Haymitch just shook his head. "Would you like to try some?"

"Not particularly."

"You should. It's amazing." Effie took another sip, her eyes locking with his.

Haymitch stared at her for a few moments, and the silence stretched on. All they could hear was the train's engine. Finally he stood up and walked over to her, and Effie handed him her cup.

"Careful, it's hot," Effie warned, and Haymitch took a cautious sip.

Nutmeg.

Cinnamon.

Ginger.

Spicy.

Sweet.

She immediately figured he didn't like it. He scrunched up his face and handed her back the cup. " _That_ is the most horrendous thing I've ever tasted in my life." He coughed and shook his head. "Just like I thought: _Capitol_." Effie rolled her eyes at his dramatics, and sighing, got up and headed towards the bar cart.

"Here. Try it now." She took the top off and poured some liquor into the pumpkin-spiced latte, and then handed it back to him. This time he looked at her with nothing but distrust, but he grabbed the cup and took another sip.

Smacking his lips he shrugged. "It's not so bad when you add liquor to it." He turned back and sat back down in the chair.

"Bloody drunk," Effie sighed, though her mouth was upturned. He smirked at her and she turned around and sat back down, Cinna immediately resuming his massaging. She put the top back on and took another sip.

"Should we watch the recap?" asked Portia after several more moments of silence.

"God no," Effie said immediately. "I'm mentally drained. I just need one night off."

"You do seem awfully tired," commented Cinna. "Have you not been sleeping well?"

"Of course not. The President of Panem wants to kill our Tributes. How on earth am I supposed to sleep?"

"What about your sleeping pills?" Portia asked.

"I've don't have anymore."

"I think I still have a few that you gave me," said Portia thoughtfully. "I could give you a few."

Effie paused for a few moments. "Sure. Okay. Thanks." She took another sip of her latte, her eyes locking with Haymitch. She supposed it was rude to lie, but telling them that Haymitch had been keeping her up all night was not an option. Portia brushed passed her and then returned a few minutes later, handing Effie several tiny blue pills.

"I think I'll pop one now. I'm tired too," Portia said. "You coming, Cinna?"

"Yes," said Cinna, giving Effie's shoulder one last squeeze.

"Thank you for the massage, Cinna. Your hands are incredible."

"I think so too," smiled Portia, and Effie grinned. Portia bent down and placed her lips to Effie's ear. "I bet Haymitch's hands are incredible. You should find out."

"Good _night_ Portia."

"Oh, it will be. Hopefully it'll be for you too." She winked and then disappeared, and Effie took another sip of her drink. After a few moments she turned to Haymitch.

"Portia thinks your hands can do incredible things."

Haymitch shrugged. "You wouldn't know. You were too busy getting felt up by Cinna."

"I do love it when you're jealous, Darling."

"I'm not jealous."

"Yes you are. You were jealous tonight when the mayor danced with me, too."

"I just didn't see why he had to hold you so closely."

"Well _you_ couldn't hold me that closely. Not to mention you spent a _lot_ of time with Paylor." Effie pouted.

Haymitch stared at her, his eyes low. She bought the foam cup back to her lips and took another sip, and then her tongue darted out of her mouth, licking her lips.

He slammed his glass down, and pretending to be unbothered, Effie stared at him. He yanked her up. "My room or yours, Princess?"

"Both," she purred, and she led the way out of the living room and into the closest room: his.

He closed the door the minute he was inside, and he pulled her to him, his lips immediately seeking hers.

She tasted like her drink, like a pumpkin-spiced latte. He could taste it on her lips and on her tongue. He lowered his mouth to her neck, hardening as she moaned. He gripped her breasts through her dress, squeezing, and then made his way up to her wig. Without breaking away from her neck and collarbone he started to undo her hair, his hands running through her real hair.

Effie's lips made their way to his ear and he growled, forcing her lips to his again.

As he took off his clothes and slipped inside of her, he realized that he didn't mind the taste of pumpkin spice so much after all.


	97. Ash's Request

" _Love those Ash prompts! What about one where he asks for a little sister (or even gets one)?" Molly._

 _nkneeshaw: Agree with the prompt re: Ash requesting & receiving a little sister :) Too cute!_

 _Sorry, this one-shot's not cute. Borderline angst in my opinion._

 **ASH'S REQUEST**

 **Rated T**

"Mom, Dad." Effie put her book down and Haymitch looked away from the television screen to glance at their six-year-old son, who was currently playing with his toy hovercrafts.

"Yes?" asked Effie.

"Can I have a little brother or sister?"

Effie froze and then glanced at Haymitch, who was looking at Ash as if he'd never seen the child before.

"What did you say?" Haymitch asked.

"Can I have a little brother or sister?"

Haymitch looked at Effie. "Why on _earth_ would you ask a thing like that?"

Ash looked up from his toys and stared at his parents. "I think I'd make a good big brother. And all the stories Mommy reads to me always have a little brother or sister."

Haymitch shot Effie a look, as if reading to their son was some great crime.

"Ash, you don't need a little brother or sister. You're the best thing that's ever happened to us, and no one will ever compare. It wouldn't be fair."

Ash looked thoughtful. "I think if you tried really hard, another child might be the best thing to ever happen to you too."

Haymitch snorted. "Doubt it. Enjoy being an only child. It means you'll be spoiled all your life."

"But you and Mommy have each other. I want someone too."

"You have Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta," reasoned Haymitch.

"Yah, but—"

"No buts, Ash," Haymitch said firmly. "Go back to playing with your hovercrafts."

Ash shrugged and grabbed his toys, and Haymitch settled back into the cushions.

Later on that night, while Haymitch was getting ready for bed, Effie came out of the bathroom, dressed in a long nightdress.

He hadn't seen one of those in forever. They didn't always have time for… extra curricular activities with a little boy who _loved_ to walk into their bedroom without knocking, but she still normally went to bed in one of his shirts so he could at least touch her if he wanted to.

He arched an eyebrow. "Ash is sound asleep. I thought we could…." He smirked, but she didn't smile back at him as she walked towards the dresser.

"Well I certainly wouldn't want to risk getting pregnant."

Haymitch froze, his mouth springing open. "I'm sorry… _what_?"

Effie huffed and rubbed lotion on her arms. Haymitch felt something stirring in the pit of his stomach, making its way towards his chest. He was finding it difficult to breathe.

"God, Haymitch, it's not the end of the bloody world," she snapped out. "Relax. You've made it quite clear where you stood. But it would have been nice to be able to discuss it, at least. I mean you didn't even _ask_."

Haymitch just stared at her, his mouth still open.

"I didn't ask… what?"

"You _know_ what."

"But… Effie… surely you don't… I mean you can't."

"I think, for once, you should use better judgment, and know when to shut up." Her voice was quite low, and lethal, and it had him fastening his mouth shut, until the question he feared rolled off his tongue.

"Do you _wanna_ have another baby?"

"I don't know," she told him. "But it'd be nice to talk about it at least, don't you think? We didn't exactly plan Ash. And I've had a few scares over the years."

He held onto the bed for balance. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I feared this reaction. And because they always ended up being false alarms. But damn it, Haymitch, it'd have been nice if you would of at least _inquired_ about how I felt. Because I actually think we're pretty damn good parents. Ash is _brilliant_ , and he's getting older, and who knows what it'd be like to have a little one running around the house?"

"It'd be a fucking disaster," snapped Haymitch without thinking. "I can barely handle the fear with one, how the hell am I supposed to handle another child? There's not enough _room_ left in me, Effie. There's already you, Ash, and Katniss and Peeta…. There's no room for anyone else to care about. It's already crowded enough as it is. I didn't _mean_ to let you in, or Katniss and Peeta. Ash was an accident. None of you were supposed to be here. I was _fine_ the way I was. What right do you have to fucking ask me to purposely bring someone else to worry about in the world?"

Effie stood still and stared at Haymitch for a few moments.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he said once it all sank in. "Effie, I promise." He walked up to her, ready to beg, ready to plead. "That came out all wrong."

"You should go," said Effie. "Now. Or should I leave? Pack up and go back to Capitol maybe?"

"Effie, stop it."

"Get away from me, Haymitch." She walked away from him.

"Princess—" Effie walked towards their bedroom door and opened it. She'd never kicked him out of their room before. They slept better together.

He tried to sleep downstairs, but he only tossed and turned. When he decided that he was a man, damn it, and would sleep wherever the bloody hell he wanted to, he found that his door was locked. So finally he made his way to Ash's room, where he watched his son sleep.

The son who wanted a little brother or sister.

And his mother, who wanted another son or daughter.

As soon as sunrise trickled through the window Haymitch was up and making his way towards Katniss and Peeta's. He walked in without knocking, something he rarely did anymore, and found Katniss and Peeta, both in the kitchen.

"What happened?" asked Peeta immediately.

"Effie wants another baby." Saying the words made it real, and he immediately went to the cupboard where they kept the wine. They kept it locked, but Haymitch tugged on it anyway, just in case.

"Haymitch—" Peeta started, but Katniss shook her head.

Katniss walked up to her Mentor and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Come on." He didn't bother asking where they were going. He suspected, and was proven right once she grabbed her bow. "I'll see you for lunch, Peeta," said Katniss, giving him a gentle kiss.

And then she and Haymitch were off.

One thing he'd always liked about the girl was that she was a woman of few words. They made their way towards the woods in silence, and when they reached the area she was familiar with, she handed him her bow. He arched an eyebrow and she arched hers. Sighing he took it.

It let off some steam, he realized, and after it was all said and done, he had a handful of squirrel and three birds. Afterwards he and Katniss sat down.

"Talk to me," she finally said.

"I fucked up. Ash asked for a little brother or sister and I shut it down, and Effie… she just kept saying she wished I had asked. And then I said a bunch of stupid shit…." Haymitch covered his face with his hands, attempting to rub away his anxiety.

"I know how you feel," whispered Katniss. "Peeta doesn't ask, but I see him with Ash…. I've been thinking about trying." Haymitch jerked and gaped at Katniss. "I know," Katniss grinned. "It's insane, but…. Kids make him happy. All the kids in town love him. And… Peeta and Effie… they're not like us. Even after what they've been through, they can still hope. That hope outweighs the fear. But seeing you with Ash…." Katniss looked at him. "You love that boy more than life itself. You're a good father. And Effie… Effie probably never thought she'd have a child, and then here this blessing came, and what happened? She had to give him up. She missed five years of his life too, Haymitch. She never had to wake up in the middle of the night for feedings or anything like that. She didn't have the true motherhood bonding experience. And neither did you. And I think a small part of her wants that. You do too. I know I can't talk, but people like you and me… we don't have to stop being afraid. But we should stop letting that fear dictate our lives."

Haymitch sighed. "When'd you become so wise?" he mumbled.

Katniss snorted. "I'm not the little girl who threw a knife at the wall anymore," Katniss said. "Effie loves you, and you love her. Sometimes I look at you two and wonder how the hell I was so blind. I think it comes from growing up in the Seam. Because you clearly don't see how different things are anymore than I do." She took a deep breath. "I don't know if I really wanna have Peeta's baby. But I know it makes him happy, the thought of being a father. And you and me… well, we could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve them. But they chose us for some reason. The least we could do is sacrifice a little bit of fear."

They walked back to Victor's Village, Katniss heading to Haymitch's house with him. He opened the door to find Ash as the table, eating toast, and Effie near the sink. Peeta was not at the bakery, apparently.

Ash was out of his seat and in Haymitch's arms so fast that he wondered how the boy got there. Did he fly? Apparate?

"Why don't you go to Aunt Katniss' and Peeta's for a little while?" he asked Ash.

"Yay!" Ash squiggled out of Haymitch's arms and grinned at Katniss, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

His crush was so adorable.

"Come by when you're ready," Peeta said to Haymitch gently, and then the three of them were gone.

Effie didn't say anything to Haymitch, but her eyes followed him as he made his way up to her. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her. It took her several moments to respond, but she finally did.

"Let's go make a baby," he said softly.

"Haymitch—"

"Effie, listen—"

"I didn't say I wanted one. I just wanted to be able to have a discussion, that's all."

"You want one, Effie." And if Katniss could try, so could he. She shook her head and walked away from him. "What's wrong?"

"What if I can't?" The question was barely a whisper, but he heard the sadness in her voice.

He walked up to her and turned her around. "Effie."

"I was tortured, Haymitch. I mean… you know what they did to me." He did know. He'd seen her file, read her report. "Last night I forgot for a second. That child came from me. He _knows_ me."

"You've been thinking about it a lot," he guessed.

She nodded. "I couldn't believe it when he asked. He had no clue, really. And I envied how easily he asked. And then you just… said no. And I got angry, but I had no reason to be. This morning when I woke up I knew you were right. Of _course_ you're right—"

"I wasn't," disagreed Haymitch. "I was wrong. We should have a baby. Or we should at least try."

"I'm old, Haymitch."

"It's a new generation, Effie. You know women can have babies later than ever now."

"You don't have to do this for me. You don't owe me anything."

"But I owe it to myself." Effie looked at him. "Look, I don't know a lot about happiness. I was miserable for so long. What I do know is that I'm better with you and Ash, okay? And maybe I can be better with another Abernathy running around here. Who knows? And if you can't have a child, then we'll deal with that. There are other options." He cupped her cheeks again, smirking. "Besides. Making the baby's the fun part."

She laughed and pushed him away so that she could look at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yah, Princess. I'm sure." He kissed her. "Let's go make a baby."

 _Just realized that this could ultimately match up with the Universe of the story Real or Not Real, where Katniss' daughter is married to Haymitch and Effie's son. Having Katniss having a child earlier than the twenty years is something I thought of out of the blue, and it came back full circle in this story. Funny. Didn't even mean to do that. (If you have NO idea what I'm talking about, go back and re-read Real Not Real) LOL._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeta_


	98. Something Borrowed, Something New

_Eh. Not what I wanted this story to be. It's kind of all over the place._

 **SOMETHING BORROWED, SOMETHING NEW**

 **Rated M**

"Seriously, I'm one second away from _killing_ your fucking Escort," snapped Johanna, walking into Command. Haymitch sighed and banged his head against the table. This was the fourth person who'd come up to him about Effie. "You need to control her. She belongs to you, not us. Stop hiding from her."

With a roll of his eyes he got up and headed down to where he knew Effie was. She was completely insane, which was made obvious as she helped plan this wedding. People might have finally been open to her existence, but she had probably shut down any hope now.

If Effie Trinket was anything, she was bossy.

Sure enough, he could hear her shrill voice before he even entered the room.

"Trinket!" Haymitch barked. "Pipe down, Princess."

She froze, and slowly turned around to face him. He knew he was in for it, but at least she'd be yelling at him and not some innocent bystander who probably arranged the silverware wrong. "Excuse me?"

"You're losing it. Calm down."

"Don't you _dare_ take that tone with me," she snapped. "You've got some nerve showing up here after _hours_. Where have you been, _hiding_ in Command?"

Haymitch sighed. Damn she knew him. "Do we really have to do this, Effie? Do we really have to do this right here, right now?"

"We shouldn't have to. We already know how this ends: with me right, and you wrong." Haymitch barked out a laugh that had Effie's eyes turning into slits. "Do you find me amusing, Haymitch?" Her voice had grown quite quiet. She moved a few feet. "Finnick Darling. Who's your money on?"

Haymitch turned and looked, noting that everyone had gathered around to watch the show. It'd been a long time since they'd gone out of their way to cause a scene.

"My money's always been on you, Effie." Finnick grimaced. "Sorry, Haymitch."

"What about you, Johanna?" asked Haymitch.

"You're a Victor. My money's on you, brainless."

"We're even, Princess," Haymitch told her.

"Not really. Chaff's money would have been on me too, you know. It always was." He scowled, because he couldn't disagree with that. "Leave me alone, before you regret it."

"I'm currently planning a fucking Revolution. Do you really think you scare me?"

"Language, Haymitch." She brushed passed him. "You're in my way."

He grabbed her arm. "You're driving everyone up a wall. I'm used to it. I've been going toe to toe with you for twenty years. These people will not take too kindly to you abusing them." Effie made to retort when Haymitch squeezed her hand. "Shut up, and follow me. Now."

She took a deep breath and walked towards the exit, muttering all the while. Haymitch walked behind her, scowling. He slammed the door behind them and pushed her against the wall.

"Can you just _stop_ being _Effie_ for _one_ fucking event?"

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" hissed Effie, offended.

"It _means_ you're fucking crazy when there's an event with your schedules and timetables and _insanity_."

" _Fine_! _You_ can plan Finnick and Annie's wedding, and I'll stay holed up in my room. Everybody will have a good laugh then." She pushed him away and started heading towards her room.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't plan it. I'm just saying calm down."

"Those two _deserve_ a little bit of happiness. So what if I want everything to be perfect? They deserve perfect, Haymitch."

"I'm not saying they don't. I'm just saying not everybody responds well to your methods."

"I already said okay." They walked up the stairs and down the corridor, the air getting cooler. "You can plan it. Let's let _you_ take care of it. _You_ , the man who hasn't acknowledged love since he was sixteen years old."

 _That_ had his blood boiling. He snatched her and pushed her against the wall again. "Take that back," he said darkly.

"Take what back? The truth? Do you know why they wanted me to plan this wedding? Because I'm the only one who's unafraid to _love_. I'm the only one besides Finnick and Annie who think love is worth _everything_."

"You're the only person in 13 who's never been destroyed by love, Effie." The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. "I didn't fucking mean that."

"Of course you didn't," sighed Effie. She wrestled out of his grip and kept walking. "You say a lot of things you don't mean, and you mean a lot of things you don't say. But don't tell me the Capitol's never destroyed anyone I care about. They destroyed _you,_ Haymitch. They took you from me, from the rest of the world, and you've done _nothing_ to get yourself back."

He stopped and blinked at her for several moments, and then ran to catch up with her.

"Leave me alone, Haymitch."

When they finally made it to her room he locked the door and turned around. "Believe it or not I'm not here to fight with you."

"Too late."

She was itching for a fight, he realized. She was. He could see it with the scowl on her face. Her hands were twitching, her breath coming out in hitches. Her face was red, her chest heaving.

"What's your problem, huh? You've been snapping at people for days. Who did what to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she told him, and he gaped at her. She wasn't a liar, his Effie, but she was being dishonest. She started pacing, her heels clicking against the tile.

She was so fucking sexy when she was like this.

He wanted her, he realized. It'd been a few days since—

Haymitch stared at her. Her body was tense, her face strained, and there was this… electric charge radiating from her.

Shit. She was frustrated.

"I know what your problem is."

"Yes. It's _you_. Now go away. Go plan their wedding."

"You don't want me gone."

She turned and faced him, her eyebrow arched, and he walked up to her, pulling her to him. She gasped and he slowly ran his fingers down her back. Her breath caught in her throat and he smirked.

"Oh, you want me."

"Do not."

He gave her a full grin. "You do. It's been a few days since I've been inside of you. I bet you miss me. I bet you miss the way my hands feel all over your body." He slid his hands back up her front, his calloused hands catching on the silk of her shirt. Her body betrayed her when he cupped her breasts. "That's what I fucking thought."

"What about you?" Effie gripped him over his pants and he groaned.

Bright grey met sparkling blue, and then they were all over each other. He was undoing his pants and she was sliding off her tights. He tugged her to the bed where she fell on top of him.

"I didn't know you'd get irritated if I didn't dick you down every night, Princess."

"Must you be so crass?" It was supposed to come out annoyed, but instead she sounded desperate, especially as she sighed when they joined together. She closed her eyes, trying to keep quiet. She wouldn't give him the bloody satisfaction of knowing she wanted him.

He didn't know how she did it. _How_ she locked her legs around him and sunk down on him was beyond him. He didn't even see her move. One minute she was on top of him, the next minute he was inside of her, and the noises she had him making weren't human or masculine. The first time she came made him mewl, and he buried his face in her neck, too stuck on the pleasure to embarrassed.

"Why didn't you tell me every time we argued for the past twenty years you were sexually frustrated?" He kissed her throat, licking her neck.

Effie groaned. "You're an idiot." She was breathless, and it didn't have the same taunting affect she had wanted. "It was obvious. Well, at least to everyone but you."

He snorted. "I felt it, Princess. I just ignored it." She clung to him as the orgasm made its way out of her. "You're beautiful when you cum," he told her throatily.

His hands made their way to her chest and she cried out. He liked touching her there, and she liked being touched there. His lips made their way between the valley of her breasts.

"I missed you," she gasped out.

He smirked against her breasts. "Did you now?"

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes." With each yes her thrusts sped up.

"You're gonna fucking kill me," panted Haymitch. "Fuck. _Fuck_."

"This is the way I want to go," she told him, burying her face in his chest.

He growled. "What, with you being fucked?"

"With you, inside of me, making my toes curl."

He came at those words, before he meant to, because it was the only way he could express to her what those words meant to him, and giving all of himself to her seemed like the perfect way to show her what she meant to him.

He slid his fingers down below so that she could finish. Afterwards she collapsed on the top of him, breathing hard.

"I feel _so_ much better," she told him.

"You're a freak, you know that?"

"I am."

"Did the men from the Capitol do that, or me?"

Effie rolled her eyes and rolled off of him. "If you want to know who I've been with, just ask."

"I don't. I don't care." He rose up to look at her. "Long as I'm the last, Princess." She smiled at him. "C'mon. Maybe now you've calmed down."

They got up and redressed. "I'm impressed. You didn't rip anything today."

He snorted. "The day's not over yet."

He helped her plan the wedding while he could, because he knew how to handle her, and he didn't rescue his Escort so she could be killed by the residents of 13.

By the time the wedding took place, everything was perfect. He had to hand it to her. If anyone could plan something, it was Effie Trinket.

When it was time for the ceremony, Haymitch found himself with Effie and the bride. He'd never met Annie before this, though he certainly knew of her. Haymitch wasn't sure why he was here. He should be with Finnick, but Effie had called for him, and he'd come running.

"Are you nervous?" asked Effie.

"No," Annie said. "I'm marrying the love of my life today."

Effie smiled. "He's certainly something special, that's for sure."

Annie grabbed her hand. "Finnick told me about you. I know he's had a crush on you for forever. He said you're not only the kindest Escort he's ever known, but the kindest person. Thank you, for your help with this wedding."

Effie blinked rapidly. "You are a jewel. And the most beautiful bride. Weddings tend to have a few traditions. Something old. Something blue. Something borrowed. Something new. You already have something old in Katniss' dress. Finnick's eyes are the most amazing shade of blue, are they not?"

"I'm quite partial to them." Effie laughed.

"You have a new necklace." Effie had given her the one she'd been wearing the night the Arena blew up. "And now for something borrowed." She turned to Haymitch. "Did you get it?"

"Yes." He didn't tell her that he already had it on him. That he _always_ had it on him.

She held out her hand and he dug into his pocket and handed her the gold bangle.

"This will look quite lovely on your wrist."

Annie's eyes widened. "Finnick wore this in the Arena." Effie nodded. "I asked him about it when I got here." She grabbed it and looked at it. "He said Haymitch had asked for it back. He wouldn't tell Finnick why, but Finnick thinks it's because you gave it to him." Effie stared at Annie but Annie turned to Haymitch. "You keep this with you."

"Always," he told her, and Effie stilled.

"Finnick says sometimes he sees you playing with it. It means a lot to you."

"It does." Haymitch wasn't looking at Effie, but at Annie.

"I'll make sure you get it back."

"I'd appreciate that."

Haymitch was gone before she could say anything, and she wouldn't have known what to say regardless. She found herself flustered, her heart hammering.

Annie smiled at her. "Maybe one day I'll be at you two's wedding." Effie blushed. They _say_ Annie was crazy, but she seemed sane enough to Effie. "I don't think he's borrowing your heart," she told Effie. "I think, when it comes to you, he's using his own. And maybe you're something new to him too." Annie smiled at her.

"Let's get you married," whispered Effie.

And maybe, when it was all said and done, all of this would have just been practice for her own.


	99. Cable-Knit Sweater

_I'm not posting these stories in any kind of order, except for the prompts, obviously. Those are first come first serve. This particularly one-shot was one of the first I wrote. I'm going to start posting some of the older stories, and they'll be true one-shots. A lot of the one-shots are now little mini stories. You guys should see how many I have of Ash. I ADORE that little kid, and wish to God he was canon. I also have a ton in 13. Those are fun. I've come to the conclusion that I have few universes (or stories that are quote unquote "related": Ash's universe, 13 Universe (or movie-verse), and the HP universe. All other stories might have the same characters or might reference each other, but they're still one-shots. So don't get confused if I tell a different story with the same characters. It's just me playing around with plots in my head. Also, this note has absolutely NOTHING to do with this story LOL. Just wanted to give you guys a heads up._

 **CABLE-KNIT SWEATER**

 **Rated T**

He watched her as she came down the stairs, his eyes narrow as he took in her attire. She had taken to wearing his clothes. All of them. Sweat pants. Shorts. Tee shirts. Button-ups. Flannels. It didn't matter. Nothing seemed to be off limits.

Now she could add his cable-knit sweater to her resume.

It was brown, and too big on her, like everything else was, but what it was doing to him…. He almost suspected she was doing it on purpose, parading around like this, only with how out of it she was, it was hard to tell. She was a tease, Effie was, and she always had been.

They'd never crossed any line, though, aside from a few kisses over the years. They'd only shared a few _real_ kisses, though, after he found out she was on their side. The rest of them had been while he was drunk, because his hands and lips tended to wander when he was drunk enough to feel particularly lonely.

They'd only shared one true kiss in his mind, and that was the night he'd left for 13, when she'd kissed him goodbye, afraid that it might be the last time they saw each other.

It almost _was_ the last time they saw each other, because when he'd found her she'd been but one breath away from death. It had scared the hell out of him, and even by the time he'd left the Capitol and returned to 12 she'd barely recovered from being tortured.

When she showed up on his doorstep three months ago he couldn't decide if he was surprised or not.

He'd let her in, and it didn't take long for him to realize he was falling for her.

Maybe he'd always loved her and was just too blind to admit it.

She was different now. Honey blonde hair fell to her shoulders and like he'd always suspected, she was fucking stunning underneath all that excess cake. The fact that she walked around like that now, unashamed, shocked him more than anything. Those Persian blue eyes were still vacant, though. Still haunted.

If they had held just a _hint_ of amusement or _anything_ he'd know she was being a tease, walking around like that, his sweater falling off her shoulder, which made him realize there was no bra strap, and if there was no bra strap then she wasn't wearing a bra, and if she wasn't wearing a bra, maybe she wasn't wearing any underwear. It wouldn't be that difficult to see. As big as the sweater was her legs were still long, and his sweater fell right at the middle of her thigh.

Almost like one of those sweater dresses he'd seen women from the Town wear.

Leave it to Effie to be fashionable, even when she wasn't trying to.

She approached the couch and gave him a soft smile, and then climbed on, lying opposite of him so that her feet were near his waist and his feet were near her face. They were touching, and it took everything within him to not quiver.

"I'm cold," she told him.

"Put on some more clothes," responded Haymitch. "You practically parade around here naked."

"Never satisfied," Effie smiled. "Before I was overdressed in my costumes, now I'm not dressed enough. Which is it?"

"Is it too much to ask for a happy medium?"

"I think you just want me naked all together," said Effie.

He jerked, probably giving himself away. She was teasing him. She hadn't teased him in what felt like years.

He thought he could play along.

"Maybe I do."

She arched an eyebrow. "Maybe? You're drooling."

"Am not." He hoped not. He eyes darted to her lips without meaning to.

She eyed him, clearly amused. "I miss you, Haymitch. I miss… _us_ …. As… ridiculous as we were."

"How do you miss me? I'm right here."

"I miss the fighting. The clever repertoire. The bantering. The teasing." She lifted one leg, sliding her foot down his thigh. He stopped breathing. "The… _touching_."

"Effie," he whispered, grabbing her foot as it headed dangerously down south.

"You used to kiss me," pouted Effie. "Now you don't do anything but _look_ , as if I'm glass and I'll break at any second."

Haymitch looked at Effie, though he wasn't really hearing her. He was pretty sure he couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Take now for instance," she said, her eyes darkening. "You look at me like that, yet you won't make a move."

"Look at you like what?" asked Haymitch, swallowing hard.

Effie crossed her legs on his lap, folding her arms under her chest. "Like you want to devour me."

"We've never… I mean you… I never…." Haymitch shut his mouth, realizing his brain had gone to mush.

She stared at him for several moments. "You really don't remember that one time?"

Haymitch's heart dropped.

"No, I suppose not," sighed Effie. "I always thought you were pretending not to remember, because you felt bad. I was Capitol, right? And you were the Victor? What would people say? What would Chaff say? Johanna? Finnick? But it was a great night," she smiled. "Memorable. At least for me." She shrugged daintily. "Pity you don't remember. You were drunk out of your mind, and I probably took advantage of you. But those _hands_. Surely your remember how much they… wandered?"

She ran her hands along his legs. "It wasn't really my fault. One minute we were kissing, then you were all over me, and then I was naked—I didn't undress myself, by the way. For someone who was incapable of walking your hands surely worked wonders on my clothes."

"And that _mouth_." She stared at his lips, briefly, and then met his eyes again. "You could barely talk, but my name came easily enough off your lips."

"Effie," he warned, because she was playing with fire.

"Don't Effie me. You're a _man_ , aren't you? And you've always gotten what you've wanted. As far as I know you've never been mannerly a day in your life. Yet you undress me with your eyes, but that's all you do. You look but don't ever touch."

"Are you drunk?" he finally asked.

She laughed, amused, and then boldly slid on top of him, her slim body somehow finding the ability to touch him all over. He was definitely dead. Or dreaming. But most likely dead. "If I were, would you take advantage of me?"

"I'd never take advantage of you a day in your life," said Haymitch.

She stopped laughing and looked at him. "No," she said softly. "No, you wouldn't. So maybe I should just ask. Can you _please_ stop looking at me the way you do if you don't plan to _do_ anything about it?"

"What would you like me to do about it?" His voice was husky as he stared at her, his heartbeat speeding me up.

She smiled slyly and then pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I want you to help me remember what it means to be _alive_." Haymitch pulled her down to him, his lips ravishing hers. "So maybe I can stop walking around like the world has ended," continued Effie against his lips, her hands unbuttoning his shirt. "And you can get back to cussing every five minutes." His lips met hers again as he lifted his cable-knit sweater, and realized triumphantly that she _wasn't_ wearing underwear underneath it. "Don't be gentle, okay?" asked Effie as she undid his pants. "For God's sake, don't be gentle."

He wasn't, and by the time he'd finally entered her he was so blind with lust that he hardly remembered everything.

He realized that was okay. He'd have the rest of his life to enjoy these moments with her.

Afterwards she lay on top of him, her breathing heavy, his arms wrapped around her body.

"You wore the gold dress." Effie, with all the effort she had left, looked at him, her face relaxed, her eyes heavily lidded. "That night." Effie blinked at him. "I had to cut the back off with my knife."

Effie gaped. "You _did_ remember!"

"I've never been _that_ drunk, Princess."

She slapped him playfully on the arm. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You were the one who acted like it never happened."

"I did _not_."

"Yes you did. You—"

They instantly went back to their normal bickering, as if no time at all had passed, and then she was slipping back on his cable-knit sweater, that looked like a dress on her.

He pulled her to him and took it off again.


	100. Shining Down From Heaven

_I SWEAR this has to be like the most original idea ever LOL. At least I hope it is. IDK where it came from, honest to God. Maybe because it's my 100_ _th_ _post. AHHHH I can't believe it. I hope you guys enjoyed this unique perspective._

 _Title taken from Mariah Carey, Boyz II Men, Joe, and 98 Degree's One Sweet Day._

 **SHINING DOWN FROM HEAVEN**

 **Rated K**

"What are you guys doing?"

The small group tried to stifle their chuckling from the blonde girl, clearing their throats and trying to look serious.

"Nothing," Chaff stated, standing up a little straighter.

"Doesn't seem like nothing," stated Prim, her eyes narrowing. "What are you guys up to?" Nobody answered, and they all avoided her eyes as she tried to stare them down. For a bunch of Victors, they were all cowards. "Are you guys _spying_ again?"

"It's not _spying_ , girl," Chaff said, scowling. "They're our friends. And they've always been entertaining."

Prim sighed and rolled her eyes, staring at the group of Chaff, Finnick, and Seeder. They were crowded around their usual spot near the North Gates. Even in Heaven they were kind of a big deal. They were the coolest of the cool, like they'd been down on Earth.

They were also as devious as ever, and sometimes Prim wondered how they'd made it to this side.

"It's not nice to spy, y'know," Prim said, trying again.

"Haymitch wouldn't mind, trust me," stated Chaff. "I should know. I'm his best friend."

"Then you would think you'd allot him some _privacy_."

"Relax, Prim," Finnick said. "It's not even a serious argument. Come on, come see for yourself." Prim hesitated, and then made her way over to the group. Seeder smiled at her and let her through, and Prim took a look down.

" _Do you have any idea how much that room cost, Effie? He's stuck with it until he's eighteen," Haymitch grumbled._

" _Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch. He's growing up. He can't have a hovercraft bed forever."_

" _Tell that to the bank account."_

" _This is not about money, Haymitch, and you know it. You can't accept the fact that our son is growing up."_

 _Haymitch snarled. "You don't bloody know what you're talking about, woman."_

 _Effie squared her shoulders. "I told you about taking that tone with me, Haymitch Abernathy."_

" _Well if you weren't so bossy_ _I wouldn't have to talk any kinda way to you."_

 _Effie's eyes turned to slits. "You sir, are treading on very thin ice. I'd be careful."_

" _What are you gonna do,_ _ **glare**_ _me to death?"_

Chaff and Seeder snorted while Finnick frowned.

"Oh, he's in for it now," stated Finnick.

"Absolutely not," Chaff disagreed. " _This_ is the moment. _This_ is the day that my best friend is _finally_ gonna win against Trinket."

"You should stop calling her that," sighed Prim. "They're married now."

Chaff narrowed his eyes at her. "I _know_ that. We were all there for that, remember? _You_ even made me wear a _suit_."

"Well it was a special occasion," Prim reminded him. "Surely you remember. You cried like a baby."

"I did _not_. I could just smell Trinket's perfume all the way up here and it made my eyes water."

Prim rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Right. Okay." She turned back to the couple down below. They certainly were entertaining. She had never known that Haymitch and Effie were a thing, at least not until he had found out she'd gone missing. The worry and fear evident in his eyes made it obvious, and if that hadn't, then staying next to her while Prim and her mother were working on Effie was proof enough.

She was pretty sure Haymitch had been up for a week straight, refusing to leave her side, until Effie's eyes fluttered open for the first time.

They'd come such a long way, to be arguing about things like budgets and letting their son grow up. She still remembered their wedding day. It'd been a beautiful event, and everybody had talked about it for a year straight, until Katniss and Peeta had tied the knot.

Prim had cried for a week at that.

"He's still as whipped as ever," Seeder commented as she watched Haymitch pace his living room floor.

"That'll never change," smiled Finnick.

Chaff sighed. "I wish I knew what happened to my best friend. I can't believe he's gone _soft_."

Finnick snorted. "He's _never_ soft."

"Not in front of the girl," scowled Chaff, glancing at Prim.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I'm not a child anymore. Besides, I wanted to be a doctor. I know babies don't come from the stork."

" _Don't_ talk like that, girl," Chaff demanded. "As far as I'm concerned, you're still the same age as when you died."

"Just because _you've_ claimed to stop aging doesn't mean the rest of us have to. I'm almost twenty-one."

Finnick arched an eyebrow. "You turned twenty-one like three years ago."

Prim tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "A true lady never reveals her age," Prim stated.

"Looks like we're not the only ones who spy on Haymitch and Effie," snorted Chaff. "I know a Trinket line when I hear one."

Prim huffed. "I'll have you know I heard her telling Katniss that a few years ago, thank you very much."

"So you spy on Peeta and Katniss?" grinned Seeder.

" _No_. I may listen in on a conversation or two when Katniss and Effie are alone. It's so rare, so I'm always curious as to what they have to talk about. You know my mom's not around much. I mean she is more so now that she has grandkids, but… Effie's much more of a mother figure to Katniss. I just wanna know what they talk about. There's nothing wrong with that."

"We don't think so either," Finnick said. "So since you're guilty of it as well, Pot, do us a favor and leave us, the Kettle, alone." The group laughed while Prim sighed and rolled her eyes

At that moment a figure started to approach them. The group instantly silenced.

"Hey guys," said the woman. "What are you guys up to?"

"Nothing," Seeder said.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Are you guys watching Haymitch and Effie again?" Nobody said anything. "How many times do I have to tell you that it doesn't bother me? I was a _child_ when Haymitch and I dated. I like him with Effie. She makes him happy. Even more, she makes him better."

"Yah, but…." Chaff's voice fell off.

"You think because his mom and I are so close that I still feel some kind of loyalty to him?" Nova rolled her eyes. "Give me a break. I was over Haymitch long before he was over me." Nova took a look down and smiled fondly. "Looks like I missed the fireworks. They're hugging." She walked off and they all looked down at their favorite couple.

Chaff sighed and shook his head. "My best mate _has_ gone soft."

"It's Effie," Prim said wisely. "She has no idea the affect she has on people." At that moment her watch beeped. "Oh, I have to go! I have to start getting ready for Rue's twenty-first birthday." She stared at all of them. "You guys _are_ coming, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Chaff said. "We'll be there."

"Okay. Don't be late. And no more spying. Especially now. We all know what they're about to do."

Finnick gaped. "Of course _we_ know. _You're_ not supposed to know."

"You guys are hopeless," snapped Prim. "I'm not fourteen years old anymore. _Grow up_." She shook her head. "I'll see you guys at the party. You all did RSVP to Madge, right?"

"I did," Seeder said raising her hand.

Chaff and Finnick snorted. "Please. We're _Victors_. We don't have to RSVP," Chaff reminded her. "We'll be there."

Some things would never change, Prim figured.

But as she took one last glance at Haymitch and Effie, who were currently locked in a _very_ intimate embrace, she was glad some things _did_ change.


	101. Beautiful

_Wrote this because sometimes I think Effie might still be insecure about how she looked without makeup. Most of my fics by the time she gets to Haymitch she's content with her natural look, but I wanted to change it up a little._

 **BEAUTIFUL**

 **Rated M for smut and language (thought I'd change it up, since I write it so often).**

It was crazy how he knew when she was about to be plagued with nightmares. Her body always tensed out of nowhere, and he took that as his cue to hold her a little tighter, and pull her a little closer. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, but after six months of this, he knew what to do when the nightmares still came.

"Sh," he whispered, stroking her hair. "It's okay," even though it wasn't and it never would be, because if there was anyone who'd been innocent in all of this, it had been Effie Trinket. She never should have been taken, and these nightmares, the way she sometimes stilled in the middle of the day, her eyes going vacant, reliving those months in that cell, were his fault, and always would be. "You're safe."

That seemed to always be the phrase calmed her. "I'm sorry" tended to have her snapping awake, and then she'd feed him some bullshit about how it wasn't his fault, and he should stop blaming himself, because she didn't blame him.

Sometimes he thought it'd be easier to live with himself if she did.

Haymitch felt Effie jump again, and knew tonight would not be a night he stopped the nightmares. After six months he had gotten used to comforting her. He had thought it'd come to this about a week after she first arrived, when she woke up every hour on the hour screaming at the top of her lungs.

She only seemed to calm down when she was in his arms, and he understood that, because it was the same thing Katniss needed from Peeta.

What that meant, subconsciously, he refused to think about.

At least at first. It was obvious now, wasn't it? After six months together.

He was still in love with her.

He wasn't even sure when it happened, but he thought he'd taken special care to fall _out_ of love with her when she didn't come back with him to 12.

And then she did come back, two years later.

One look, and really that's all it took.

He was a goner.

He didn't know how to act around her. The two of them had never been shy with each other. They fought, because she was Capitol, and he drew the line at Capitols, only lines became blurred when she kept talking about being a _team_ and wearing butterfly dresses to Reapings and walking around in a gold Mockingjay wig.

And things were _definitely_ complicated when she arrived on his doorstep one rainy night, face naked, real hair, and one tiny suitcase.

She hadn't really gotten better since she had gotten here, despite what they told the kids, and he thought that the fact that he kept walking around on eggshells around her might be to blame.

She whimpered, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he stiffened. He wasn't too keen on listening to her relive those nights in the cell, pleading to a guard who no longer existed.

He had made sure of that.

The first time she had cried out into the night he'd stayed outside her door, frozen, _paralyzed_ , and had barely made it to the bathroom before emptying out his stomach.

It killed him.

He had learned a few months ago that kissing her would silence her, much like kissing her would silence her on the train.

These kisses were different, though. He knew it, and she knew it, but they still had a hard time crossing that line. Talking about it would make it real, and she already had to come to grips with one thing, she couldn't deal with another right now.

She was fragile.

And he didn't know how to treat fragile Effie.

But when Effie gasped, Haymitch's lips found hers, and there it was, that _stupid_ thrill in his stomach.

Effie gasped again and pushed him away.

"It's me, Effie," he murmured, pulling her close again. "It's Haymitch."

She snorted—proof she was still asleep, because she _never_ snorted, but it didn't stop her words from slicing his heart wide open. "Don't be ridiculous. Haymitch would never kiss me like that. He hates me."

It was the first time she'd ever said such a thing, at least in her sleep, and in 12. She'd said it a million times before, back when it was true.

"No I don't," he snapped before he could stop himself, or at least say it softly.

His tone had her stiffening again, but he pulled her closer. She took a deep breath, and then her body relaxed.

"Haymitch," breathed Effie.

"I'm here, Princess."

Her arms wrapped around his, tightly, and that was new, because normally she just curled into his body. His breath caught in his throat, because despite the fact that she was frail, and in pain, she was still a woman, a woman he was attracted to, and she made him feel very much like a man.

She always had.

Alive, is what he had realized when she was being treated for those countless injuries. She had always made him feel alive. She always got his heart pumping harder than anyone, be it in anger or in fear, while he was holding her limp hand as she fought in and out of consciousness.

Her lips found their way to his neck and he gripped her tighter, demanding his body to _control itself_ before he did something bloody stupid.

And then her hands were in his hair, and she was _on top of him_ , and all the blood went down south.

"Effie," he said. He meant to say it sharply, but it didn't quite come out that way. He wasn't sure what tone that was. Pleading? Begging? Desire?

He tried again, sitting up and grabbing her, because he was afraid that she was still asleep, and unaware of what she was doing.

Her eyes were clearer than ever, give or take a shade or two darker than normal, but clear, and smoldering. Almost liquid.

He felt his heart work its way up to his throat.

"You don't want to," she whispered.

Oh he wanted to. _God_ did he want to. More than anything.

"It's because I'm ugly isn't it?"

He sat back, dumbfounded. " _What_?"

She slipped off of him, hurt written all over her face, and he still sat there, confused as to what she was talking about.

"You think I give a fuck about a couple of scars?" snapped Haymitch. "I got them too, you know." His voice wasn't soft, he realized, and it dawned up on him that he was angry. He told himself to breathe, to calm down.

And then she opened her mouth.

"You think I'm talking about my _scars_? I mean my face, Haymitch."

The anger returned, full fledged.

"You mean to tell me…" his voice was shaking… "That you think you're ugly?"

"Of course I am," she snapped. "My friends would laugh at me back home."

"Then they're not your fucking friends," spit out Haymitch. "And the Capitol ain't your home." He stood up, still shaking, realizing he needed to calm his nerves before he choked the shit out of her. He headed downstairs, intent on getting a drink, because she was going to make him lose it.

For some unknown reason she followed him downstairs.

"Why are you so upset?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot, that's why." He turned around to look at her. "If you wanna go back to parading around in your wig, makeup, and clown costumes, be my guest, but you do so in the Capitol. You can't do that shit here. You wanna be Capitol again, you have every right to be. I'm not holding you hostage. But you can't be Escort Effie in 12."

He was actually stunned into silence when she slapped him, and damn it all to hell if he wasn't turned on at the familiar spark in her eyes.

She was coming back to him.

"I don't want to be an Escort. All I want is some sense of familiarity. Don't you get it? I was ready to _die_ in that cell for you! And Katniss and Peeta. When Peeta, Johanna, and Annie were rescued, and I wasn't, I thought I _would_ die in that cell. All of you were worth dying for. All I wanted was to live in a society where I wouldn't have to pick a child's name and sentence them to their death! I wanted to live in a world where I could _say_ these things and not risk getting my family killed. I wanted to live in a world where nobody else's family or girl got killed because they defied the Capitol."

Haymitch stilled. She was treading on thin ice, but she was on such a rampage that he doubted she even noticed.

"I don't know who I am anymore. All I want is something _familiar_. The wigs and costumes and makeup were my mask for so long. Who is this Effie? I haven't seen this Effie since I was four years old. When you turn five in the Capitol you sort of have an… initiation. You start learning how to be a woman. You learn how to walk, how to talk, how to dance, you start training your hair. And _yes_ ," she hissed, "you start wearing makeup. I spent most of my life thinking looking like _this_ ," she motioned to her face, "made me ugly. I have no idea what to do with this Effie. She's scared _all the time_. Back home I thought…." She frowned. "I don't know what I thought. I didn't want to be with those people, and they damn sure thought of me as a traitor. So I left. I left and came here because you told me I knew where to find you if I ever changed my mind. And the only person I thought I'd get peace from, was _you_ , and you can't even stand to look at me."

He gaped at her, shocked. "That is _bullshit_ , Effie!"

"It is _not_. That is the first time you've cursed in front of me in six months! You look at me like I'm weak!"

"I do _not_! I don't think you're weak. Jesus fucking Christ." He rubbed his face.

"You walk on eggshells around me. You never did that. _Ever_. You've never bitten your tongue more than you have these past six months. Why? _Why_?"

"You wanna know why? Because I'm afraid one day I'm gonna push you too far and you'll tell me how everything is my fucking fault."

She slapped him so quickly he told himself it gave him whiplash, not that she hit him so hard that it made him dizzy.

He scowled. "You fucking hit me again, we're gonna have a problem."

She slapped him again.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you it wasn't your fault." The rest of her sentence was cut off when he grabbed her.

"Touch me again, Effie."

Her eyes darkened. "Oh, there he is," said Effie coolly. " _There's_ the Haymitch I knew for twenty years. Took you long enough to show up."

"Oh he's here all right. But what about you? You don't even correct my manners anymore. You don't even annoy the shit out of me. The only time I get a glimpse of the old Effie is when you're with the kids. I don't piss you off. I don't make you angry. You don't even fucking argue. So don't talk to me like I'm the only person who's acting differently."

"You haven't given me a reason to," she snarled, breaking away from him. "You cater to my every need."

"Excuse the fuck outta me for trying to be chivalrous."

" _You're not bloody chivalrous, Haymitch!_ " Haymitch stilled. "You're rude, annoying, insufferable, cruel, and a jerk." She stared at him for several moments. When she spoke again her voice was softer. "But you're also kind, when you want to be. You have a good heart. And when you care about someone, there's nothing you won't do for them."

Haymitch licked his lips. "So… you just want me to be myself?"

"That's all I ever wanted."

"Okay. Fine. First order of business, don't ever fucking call yourself ugly. Ever. I don't care what they told you in the Capitol. They're idiots. Every fucking single one of them. Got it?"

Effie blushed and looked away, frowning. She touched her hair. "You don't think I'm ugly?"

"I think you look fucking beautiful. You never needed that costume."

She stared at him, stared at how dark his eyes were, listened to how serious his tone was. "You're attracted to me."

He looked her over: sleep tousled hair, tired blue eyes, and one of his crew necks draped over her tiny body, slightly covering those long legs.

"You want me." Her eyes were dark as she walked towards him.

He backed away. "Effie," he warned her quietly, but she ignored him, advancing on him. He found himself blocked by the wall near the stairs. He gulped when her body was right up on his. "Effie," he tried again.

She ignored him, kissing him, and he was ready for her, so ready for her, and her hips were grinding into his, his nails digging into her back, and her hands were _certainly_ everywhere.

"I want you so fucking bad," he told her, touching her, tasting her.

She backed away from him, briefly. "Good." She said firmly. "Now you know what I went through for the past ten years."

The words shocked him, at least he thought they did. Who could tell, or think, when she was _kissing_ him like that?

"We shouldn't do this," he mumbled as she unbuttoned his shirt. "I could hurt you." Effie kept unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm serious," he said, pushing her away. "There's a difference between _can_ hurting you and _wanting_ to hurt you."

"Oh, Darling Haymitch," purred Effie. "I like it rough."

So he took her against the wall, because he doubted very much he'd make it up the stairs at this point. He wanted to be inside her so badly that it hurt. He shoved his shirt up her body, pinning her against the wall, ravishing every piece of her that he could.

He was pretty sure he blacked out at some point. He was dizzy with lust, and the things she was doing…. Her hands were everywhere, her mouth was everywhere, her _tongue_ was everywhere…. Were those noises coming from him or her?

They both gasped when he slid into her. He had every intention of sliding back out, only to slide in again, except he couldn't move, because it was brilliant, so bloody brilliant how _incredible_ it felt to have her wrapped around him. So he stilled, trying to remember the art of breathing, and why had he never appreciated how wonderful it was to move before this moment? Now he was paralyzed, probably forever, and he'd never be able to move again—

Until her fingers dug into his hips, and her body started moving, and there it was again, that gift that she had only ever possessed, the gift of making him feel _alive_. His hips acted on their own accord and pumped into her, his desire unmatched. His thrusts were quick and shallow, and had her making noises that were inhuman, and turned him on even more.

He lost track of how many times she came.

When he could take no more, he growled into her ear, grabbing her hair and forcing her neck back so that he could look at her.

He told her to cum again, and she did. It thrilled him to watch her, watch the way her face flushed and her eyes glittered over to navy, and her teeth sink into her lips to keep herself from screaming.

Fucking beautiful.

He followed, choking out her name, figuring it'd be the last thing he ever said.

They slid down to the floor, gasping for breath. They were hot, sweaty, and tangled together, but his arms made their way around her.

"What took us so long to do that?" asked Effie after several moments.

"You're stubborn as shit," he told her with a smirk.

"Language, Haymitch," responded Effie, and he smiled.

He grabbed her face to look at her. "Don't ever change, okay? Always be annoying, and correct my manners, and get on my nerves, and fight me about _every bloody thing_. But most importantly… always stay just like you are: beautiful."

Her eyes softened. "Will this be the last time you're nice to me?"

"Probably," he snorted.

She gave him a full smile, her first one since being back.

He bit his tongue so that he wouldn't say aloud what he was thinking.

Beautiful.


	102. Heartbeat

_I can't believe I have so many one-shots! Keep the prompts coming, y'all! And thanks for the support._

 _Stole this prompt from myself LOL. Katniss does something similar to this in my story Rise From the Ashes. For all you Everllark shippers out there I do have a multi-chap fic about them. Feel free to check it out. It's complete._

 **HEARTBEAT**

 **Rated T**

Effie startled awake, gasping for breath, swallowing her scream. She looked around, trying to get her bearings, but it was dark. Very dark. _Too_ dark. She couldn't see anything. She took large breaths, panic spreading its way throughout her brain. Where was she? Was she back in her cell? She had to be. If she wasn't Haymitch would already be up comforting her.

 _Haymitch_.

She turned, breathing a sigh of relief. He was there, next to her. If he was next to her, she was fine. She was _safe_. She was in 12.

She peered at him, still squinting, trying to make out his silhouette and mentally cursing herself for trying to be brave and sleep without her nightlight. She thought with him next to her she'd be okay.

It was childish.

She could barely make out his features due to the dark. Was he moving? Was he even breathing?

Panic clouded her better judgment and she screamed his name, scrambling on top of him without thinking, her hands immediately going to his chest.

She froze when he grabbed her hands, violently, and she could just make out the dark scowl on his face.

"Haymitch!" Effie said immediately, her breath hitching, but it was to no avail. He was seeing her, but he wasn't really seeing _her_. He snarled at her his hands making their way up to her neck.

 _No_.

She slipped back to those nights in her cell and immediately started clawing at Haymitch. He clawed back, tightening his grip on her arm, but he didn't reach for her neck and choke her. Why wasn't he choking her? A guard would have choked her out by now, and she'd be passed out on the cell floor.

She heard him moan and she froze, realizing she wasn't in her cell. Nightmare and reality floated around her subconscious for a few more seconds, until Haymitch's hands found its way to her throat, and life suddenly became very real. Effie did the only thing she knew to do: slapped him, hard, the sound echoing in the room.

Haymitch startled awake, letting her go, and in her haste to get away from him she fell off the bed. Paralyzing fear had her ignoring the pain and crawling away from the bed, towards the bay window.

"Effie?" whispered out Haymitch, immediately turning on the light and climbing out of bed. Sleep still clouded his mind, she could tell, but he walked towards her, until she whimpered, and he froze.

She was scared of him, he realized.

"Effie?"

"Just… give me a minute," she gasped out, clutching her heart. She told herself to calm down, that it was Haymitch, that he didn't mean it, and she had to do so quickly, because she could see the dread in his eyes.

"What happened?"

"I… I had a nightmare, and afterwards I wanted to make sure you were alive so I climbed on top of you—"

"Got damn it, Effie, you can't _do_ that!"

"They kept telling me you were dead!" Haymitch was pretty sure the shout could be heard all the way in the Capitol. He stilled at her words. "Every _day_ they told me you would never come for me, because you were dead, that Snow himself had taken the time out to kill you." Her voice was shaking and Haymitch knew that she was near tears. She never talked about what happened all those months in her cell, but he'd read her file. He knew what they did to her physically.

Mentally was a whole different matter entirely.

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead. You were so still."

His heart ached at how small she sounded. How small and how scared she sounded. He wanted to approach her, but was too afraid to move. Was she still scared of him?

"I was hiding," he confessed gently. "In my nightmare. That's why I was so still." He wanted so desperately to touch her, but he was afraid. But she needed the comfort, and damn it, so did he. So he walked up to her, slowly, taking comfort in the fact that she didn't shrink away from him, even as he slid down next to her. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," said Effie immediately. "Just scared me a little. But it was my fault," she rushed on. "I _know_ how I'm supposed to wake you up." She reached out for him and he immediately met her, pulling her into him.

"I'm sorry," whispered Haymitch.

"No, I should be the one apologizing." Haymitch ran his fingers through her hair, neither of them moving until both of their heartbeats returned to its normal pace. "I think it was too soon to sleep with the light off. We both sleep better with it."

"Okay, Princess." He helped her up and they made their way back to the bed. Effie immediately curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, covering her. Shielding her.

She rested her hand on his heart for several moments, until she shifted slightly. He understood her, so he turned, laying flat on his back. Effie immediately turned, resting her head on his heart.

She let the sound of his heart beating lull her back to sleep.


	103. Goodbye, Princess

_I always thought that Snow might have tried to fire Haymitch after Katniss and Peeta won. And then the Quarter Quell happened, which made him a Mentor again, but in between time, I can see how he might have broken the news to "Rebel Effie." This is that story. Short and not so sweet LOL. Though I appreciate the Reviews, I'd still like some more prompts! I see a lot of people who say "I know you probably have a ton of prompts" but the truth is as soon as I get a prompt I like, I tend to write. So all the prompts that have been suggested have already been written, so I could use some more. Unless you guys are tired of Loosen Your Corset ;)_

 _HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND_

 **GOODBYE, PRINCESS**

 **Rated T**

When Effie entered his house he glanced at her, and then he glanced at his bottle, and then he glanced at her again. He concluded that his eyesight must be failing him, which was humbling, because he wasn't _that_ old. But he wasn't sitting that far from where she entered. He was near the fireplace, in the rocking chair that he favored, and he could certainly make out the rest of her it. It was just… that hair.

"Please tell it's the alcohol making me see a bloody _orange_ wig on top of your head."

"It was Cinna's idea. He said it was in, so…." She shrugged delicately, and leave it to Effie Trinket to make a shrug look elegant. She walked over to him and he followed her with his eyes. She took the bottle from his hands and placed it down on the table.

He didn't stop her.

"What do you want?" he asked her. It came out warily. He'd meant for it to come out harshly.

"To check on you," responded Effie boldly, slipping off her coat.

He frowned at her. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me. You should be bossing the kids around, making sure everyone and everything is on schedule for their shoot."

"Katniss is currently being prepped by Cinna, and Peeta is being prepped by Portia." She sat on his lap, and he nearly stiffened. "I'm where I'm supposed to be." When she leaned in for a kiss he didn't back away, but it took him a moment to respond. She pulled away, searching his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"There are Peacekeepers everywhere, watching our every move. You can't…." He stared at her, looking her over. "You need to be careful."

Effie looked at him, and he knew she was trying to see into his mind. She could do that. Read him like a book. One of the few people in all of Panem that could.

"What aren't you tell me?" she asked softly.

He didn't immediately answer. He was trying to figure out how best to break it to her. He decided on the truth, because he didn't like lying to her, and it'd be better if she heard it coming from him. "I got a letter in the mail earlier this week." He glanced at his bottle, suddenly desperate for a drink. She placed a single finger on his face and he found himself staring into her Capitol blue eyes again. "I'm officially no longer the Mentor for District 12."

Effie stiffened, staring at him, and then slowly stood up. "I see."

"You're upset," he stated.

She took a deep breath. "No. We knew it was a possibility." She glanced away from him. It was a lot easier for her to lie to him than it was for him to lie to her. He'd only just come around. She'd been lying to him for nearly fifteen years. She'd known how she felt about him since the first time he'd slid inside of her ten years ago.

Haymitch slowly stood up—the room spun—and made his way over to her.

"Snow is a fool. If I were him, I'd have kept you on as Mentor. He can't control you in 12. You could slip away and no one would ever know it." He turned her towards him and it took a minute for her to look at him. "This is goodbye then, isn't it?"

Haymitch nodded. "Most likely."

"Do the kids know?"

"They'll figure it out."

"You'll protect them right?" Effie had to keep talking, or else she wouldn't be able to compose herself. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and he swallowed his own. He hadn't thought it'd be this difficult.

"Of course I will." As best as he could, at least, and he realized that wasn't saying much.

They stared at each other, their eyes locking, the words on his lips.

He hated goodbyes.

"I suppose I should go check on our Victors," she finally said softly. He nodded. She didn't immediately move for a minute, and he held his breath.

In the end she left without kissing him.

At the door she turned around. "Goodbye, Haymitch."

He waited until she was long gone, still in the same spot. "Goodbye, Princess."


	104. The Star-Crossed Lovers

_Movie verse drabble, since THG is on ABC Family (oops, Freeform—dumbest channel name like EVER btw). This was literally a freestyle. No real rhyme, reason, or plot. Just something to write because I sighed over EVERY scene with our beloved Hayffie._

 **THE STAR-CROSSED LOVERS**

 **Rated T for language**

"I gave Katniss your pin," Cinna said casually, and Haymitch jerked, his drink sloshing around in his cup.

"It wasn't my pin," said Haymitch coldly. "It was Maysilee's," he added a bit more softly. "And I don't talk about my Games, so don't fucking ask." He took a drink, a dark scowl on his face.

"I know," said Cinna softly. "Effie warned me."

That also had him jerking violently, and he tried not to snarl into his glass. He gripped his glass tightly, taking a larger sip.

"Why'd you do it?" Haymitch found himself asking. "Give her the pin? You know it's not allowed."

Cinna stared at him over the rim of his own glass, his eyes clearly calculating. He was younger, Haymitch noticed, but there was wisdom pouring from him. Haymitch hadn't known him but for a few days, but Haymitch could tell he was different.

Cinna shrugged. "I'm not sure. I just felt like she needed it."

"Why would you blatantly defy the Games like that?"

Cinna continued to stare at Haymitch thoughtfully. "Because I wanted to," he finally answered. "Why? Are you going to turn me in for my… act of rebellion?"

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at Cinna, frowning slightly. "No. Just don't let Effie hear about you defying any rules and regulations. It's not proper."

Cinna arched an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know. I don't think Effie minds a little bit of rebellion at all," stated Cinna. Haymitch arched an eyebrow but Cinna just smirked.

At that moment Effie entered into the Penthouse.

"Did you give her the pin?" asked Effie, and Haymitch's mouth dropped open.

"Of course I did," Cinna said with a smile. "It was a brilliant suggestion."

"Thank you." She turned towards Haymitch, not really looking at him, but at the television screen. "Let's get 12 its next Victor."

"What are you playing at, Princess?" asked Haymitch.

"Nothing at all," Effie responded softly. She watched for a few minutes before turning to Haymitch. "If I get you a list of Sponsors, I expect you to do your job this year. We're bringing her home, Haymitch, by any means necessary."

She said it with such ferocity that he almost actually believed her.

Still, he found himself visiting the list of Sponsors she'd given him, and it'd been _years_ since he'd actually tried, and it was thrilling, how _good_ it felt to succeed. They loved her, he realized, and he imagined 12 hadn't sparked this much talk since his own Games.

He was on his way back to the Penthouse when he saw Effie.

She was whispering in a dark, secluded corner with Cinna, and their conversation looked tense. She must have felt him staring because after a few moments she looked up, and their eyes locked.

His heartbeat quickened when he saw the switch. Capitol mask, instantly back in place. She gave him a curt smile, and he sent her his signature smirk, noting that two could play that Game.

When she turned back to Cinna there was a warmth in her eyes that he'd never seen, that he'd never allowed himself to see. He frowned as he watched them. It was off. All of it. It wasn't _wrong_ , but it definitely wasn't right.

It was trouble, he realized, but it might be the good trouble.

He couldn't decide or not.

On one hand, Effie was involved. On the other, so was Cinna.

He decided he needed to speak with Chaff.

Later on that night he made his way back to the Penthouse. He found Effie, Cinna, and Portia huddled up together. The whispering stopped the minute they saw him. He refrained from frowning and just made his way over to the bar.

"I think it's time to bid you goodnight, Effie." Cinna stood, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "Wake us if anything happens."

"Of course."

"Goodnight, Haymitch," Cinna said, but Haymitch just stared at the stylist. Cinna smirked at him, and Haymitch's eyes following him all the way until he disappeared with Portia.

"How'd he get to be 12's stylist?" asked Haymitch.

Effie stilled, staring at him. "He applied."

"When?"

Effie took a sip of her purple drink, staring at Haymitch almost in an identical way Cinna had: calculating, debating, questioning. "After Katniss volunteered."

He nodded, things suddenly clicking into place. But if Cinna was involved….

He stared at his Escort, in all her pink glory. He didn't know her. Not really. He knew she was different. Chaff and Finnick had told him as much over the years, but he hadn't ever paid much attention, not even when she'd bailed them out of jail or taken care of him when hew as drunk.

But Effie Trinket, a _Rebel_? It was laughable. Improbably. Impossible.

He'd heard the whispers. Chaff had sought him out as soon as possible. First the volunteer in itself. And then the opening ceremony costumes…. He'd have to watch how Katniss played out.

She was so damn much like him, as he'd been reminded.

"I think I'm going to head to bed too," Effie said standing, and breaking his train of thoughts. "You try to get some rest too. I need you on your toes, because she's going to win, Haymitch. I can feel it."

"What makes you say that?"

She smiled at him. "Let's just say I know a Quarter Quell Victor she has a few things in common with." She gently brushed her fingers against his shoulder—she always did things like that: brush his shoulder, or ruffle his hair, or skim her fingers against his.

She disappeared and Haymitch took a sip of his drink, sitting back, putting one foot up on the coffee table, since Effie wasn't here to nag him about it.

He was just about to cross his legs when something caught his eye.

Jewelry. Lots of jewelry.

A pair of earrings. A necklace. Two bracelets. A collage of rings.

Haymitch's breath caught in his throat and he jerked forward, his callused hands picking up one ring in particular. He held the ring up closely to his face. He knew this ring because of the band. She always played with it, and she always wore it on her ring finger.

He'd never really seen it before, probably because she always had it facing her palm, and hidden.

A Mockingjay ring.

"Haymitch, is my jewelry on the table? I think I—"

Effie stopped near the living room entrance, and it took all of Haymitch's strength to look from the ring and at her.

"Were you ever gonna tell me?" snarled Haymitch.

"Were you ever going to believe me?" Haymitch didn't answer. "Didn't think so." She walked up to the table, grabbing all of her jewelry and snatching her ring out of his hand.

Talk about rude.

"I trust you'll keep your mouth shut."

He couldn't have spoken if he wanted to.

A few days later, right after Katniss buried Rue, Effie walked into the Penthouse, casting her jacket carelessly aside.

"District 11 is Uprising." Haymitch dropped his glass and Cinna immediately stood up. But Effie, apparently, only had eyes for Haymitch.

"This is what I want you to do: I want you to go to Seneca, immediately, because he's definitely going to try and kill her. Tell him if he does so, he'll be making her a martyr. Tell him to give Panem something to hope for. Use those exact words." She grabbed his face, staring into his eyes. "You're brilliant. I know you know what else to say. But I need you to be more than a Mentor right now. I need you to be a Rebel. Go talk to Seneca."

"Effie," he whispered.

"Shut _up_ , Haymitch. We don't have _time_. You saw what Katniss did. She's definitely a target. Go. _Go_."

He did as he was told, talking to Seneca with the utmost desperation, because he understood that things _were_ changing. She was the spark, he realized.

"To the Star-Crossed Lovers," Effie toasted later on that night, raising her glass with a smile. "I don't know what you said to Seneca, but to have an announcement that there might be _two_ winners…. It's more than we could have asked for."

Haymitch clinked her glass, though he refrained from stating the obvious: Snow would never allow it, and only one of them would walk out of that Arena alive.

"You talkin' about us or them, Princess?" asked Haymitch, smirking.

She scooted closer to him, her naked skin pressing against his, and laughed. "Darling, I think we have to sleep together more than once to be lovers," she purred.

His lips found hers, some kind of way, and he grabbed their glasses and sat them down. " _That_ can be arranged."

Effie's last coherent thought was maybe he _was_ toasting to them.


	105. Desires of the Heart

_This is the last of the "first" one-shots I wrote. All the rest of them will be newer. I feel like when I first started I was like super angst LOL. All of my first one-shots consisted of Effie just arriving in 12 and still miserable LOL._

 _Also, I just wanted to thank you all for your continued support. Every time I ask for more prompts, you guys seriously come through. Thanks so much._

 _Lastly, I SO want to do an A/U on-shot of Hayffie in/on Titanic. I'm SO trying to get it together in my head. I just need the story line… do I want to strictly copy Titanic and have them as Rose and Jack, or just have them as different characters on Titanic? I'm leaning more towards them as Rose and Jack—I mean… it just seems to fit. I'm open to suggestions. I LOVE when original inspiration hits me. I'm pretty sure I haven't seen a HG/Titanic crossover before. That's all for now. Enjoy!_

 **DESIRES OF THE HEART**

 **Rated M for smut**

Effie mentally traced every part of his face as he slept. He was quite handsome when he was like this, with his face relaxed. Content, even. He wasn't having nightmares tonight, at least not yet.

She looked over every feature. She could still see the color of his Seam grey eyes, even as they were closed. She loved his eyes. His nose was strong, defiant. And that jawline… that chiseled jawline, currently hidden beneath a five o'clock shadow. His mouth wasn't frowning for once. It normally was, unless he was smiling, which was rare. Yet they were her favorite part of his face.

His lips kissed her in places no one else had even known existed, let alone seen. And sometimes, when he thought she was truly asleep, they whispered sweet nothings in her ear, declarations of love and I'm sorry's.

It was almost like he was drunk, only he wasn't. He'd hardly touched a bottle since her arrival six months ago.

He shifted in his sleep, tightening his hold on her, and her breath caught in her throat. She stilled, being careful not to wake him, even if his touch made her shiver.

She wasn't sure what had woken her up in the dead of night. She hadn't had a nightmare. She wasn't afraid. She hadn't heard a strange noise. It was beyond her why she was up.

No. That was a lie. She knew what had woken her up out of her sleep.

 _Desire_.

She wanted him. Wanted him like never before. They'd only slept together a handful of times, and each time had been after one of their nightmares. Three months ago she had woken up, terrified, and she hadn't calmed down until his lips were on hers, and there was no leading up to it or easing into it.

One kiss and they were all over each other.

The second time he had been the one having the nightmare, and her body had been there to comfort him. After that they went back and forth, but only when the nightmares were unbearable.

But there were no nightmares tonight, and she wanted him right here, right now.

She resisted for as long as she could before her lips found their way to his. She pressed them against his for several moments. Haymitch stirred, just a little, and she backed away, hoping that would have satisfied her craving.

It didn't.

So she kissed him again, harder this time, and he sighed softly.

"Haymitch," she whispered, her heart hammering, and she slid her leg up his, placing her mouth on his again. This time she felt the sharp in take of his breath, and she pulled away. His eyes were dark, and heavily lidded, and his breathing was quick.

"What's wrong?" asked Haymitch, his voice thick with both sleep and what was unmistakably lust.

She slithered on top of him, his breath catching, and said, "Make love to me."

He sat up on his elbows, his eyes clear, and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just really want you inside me, is all." He stilled as he stared at her, his eyes searching hers, that frown on his face. "You don't want to?"

He snorted and grabbed her hand, guiding it down his bare chest, down his body, until she came into contact with his length. "Does this feel like I don't want to?" She gripped him through his pants and he barely had time to smile before she lost control.

She leaned in again, and this time he kissed her back, hungrily, possessively. His hands traveled down from her shoulders to her back, and he didn't stop there. He caressed the curve of her ass, squeezing it.

Her leg slid even farther up his thigh, and he both jerked and moaned.

He flipped them over and she gasped. He assaulted her mouth and she realized very quickly that he had wanted this as badly as she had, and for probably longer. Haymitch had never struck her as the chivalrous type, but she had probably never struck him as a rebel, either. So before, when they were just fucking each other, he never held back. But now… after the war… to have shown up unexpectedly six months ago, only to flinch at his touch and to be afraid of the dark… it's no wonder he didn't give all of himself to her.

He would tonight, though. She'd make sure of it.

His lips were everywhere, and hot, hot, hot, so hot on her skin. His hands gripped her in all the familiar places, and he wasn't gentle, not like when they had nightmares, and she didn't want gentle.

That wasn't what she'd meant when she had told him to make love to her.

What she meant was for him to be unapologetically, completely himself.

He stopped kissing her and started unbuttoning one of the shirts she had stolen from him—one of a billion, it seemed like. She immediately stiffened but when he looked up at her, his face was set.

"I'm seein' you tonight, Princess," he told her firmly, and his hands went back to work. He didn't immediately take the shirt off, but once it was open, his lips were, again, everywhere, and all over, and she forgot about all of her scars, because they didn't seem to bother him in the least.

She relaxed in his arms, and he felt the change, she knew he did, because when he looked at her his eyes were softer.

"Fucking beautiful," he told her, and before she could respond his lips were on hers again. With some sort of magical powers he got his shirt off of her without ever breaking the kiss, and then she was only in her underwear.

"Clothes," mumbled Effie against his lips, and her hands found the way to his pants, pushing them down. He made a strangled noise, a cross between a moan and a hiss, when his pants came into contact with his length. " _Off_ ," she snapped, and he smirked at her lack of proper manners.

She wanted him.

And it was such a thrill to know she did.

When he was naked he went back to her, sliding off her panties and discarding them carelessly.

She wouldn't need them anymore tonight.

He kissed her again, and she was ready, so ready, but after he pulled away, he hesitated. She stared at him, afraid to break the silence, the trance.

"I could do one of three things," he told her, his voice dark with want, and she stared at him, confused, until she remembered all those stolen nights on the train.

"All," demanded Effie. "Do them all. Now. _Now_."

He smirked and climbed on top of her, but didn't enter her. "My aren't we impatient?" She nearly snarled at him but quickly arched her back and moaned when his finger found her center. She gasped and she felt him harden even more against her stomach.

He watched her, transfixed, his eyes undoing her more so than his finger. She heard him growl when she came, his eyes wide with awe. He'd only started doing this, thinking of other ways to please her, when he found out she was a rebel, and it was insane, really, the lengths he would go to please her.

He kissed her again, but she pushed him away, and pushed his head down, down, down, until he got the picture. She placed her legs over his shoulder, granting him access to her, and her back arched off of the bed when his mouth started working on her.

She'd have to remind herself to return the favor, if her brain hadn't turned to mush by the time he was done with this. It didn't take long for her legs to clench around his face, and for her fingers to grip his hair as the orgasm rolled through her.

"My turn," Effie said huskily, and he shook her head.

"Can't," panted Haymitch, and then he was at her entrance, guiding himself into her.

She placed her feet firmly on the bed, her hands sliding down his back, and he slid into her silkily, smoothly, surely. Her breath caught in her throat and he stilled, until she started moving. He grunted and she moaned as the familiar pleasure started to pump through her veins, their eyes locked.

This man, and his ability to give his all, even when he didn't know it. She clung to him, meeting his thrusts and moaning his name. God, how she had missed this. How the hell had she walked away from this, year after year, for five years? No wonder she didn't date in the Capitol—why would she? Men in the Capitol satisfied their cravings, and you better get off in time, or too bad for you.

Haymitch though… as much as he had hated her, as drunk as he used to be… he _always_ satisfied her. Knew her body better she knew he her own, and it was a slap in the face, it was, to know this man who hated her in sunlight loved her at night, and couldn't stay away from her anymore than she could stay away from him.

How it went from angry, hate-you sex to something more was something they had never discussed, but it was still there, those feelings, which he made obvious in this very moment.

She slid her legs smoothly around his waist and his eyes rolled back into his head as he started to pump faster. She chanted his name like a prayer, and he kissed her to silence her, because she remembered how he had told her once that the way she said his name always made him lose control.

He'd told her that while he was inside of her, drunk out of his mind, and that'd been it for her. She knew, at those words, that she was a goner, though she had suspected it for quite some time.

Haymitch grabbed her hand, linking his with hers, and she gripped his hand tightly, arching her back, her legs tightening even more around him.

She erupted, and he watched her, transfixed. "Fucking beautiful," he mumbled again, and he kissed her, kissed her until her head was spinning and she was breaking away, gasping for breath, relishing in the glory of oxygen and air.

He kissed her again, as if she was his supply of air, and he growled in her ear. She shivered at the sound, remembering it. She hadn't heard it since she'd been back, but she knew exactly what it meant: that he was more than turned on, and holding back, to make sure she got her release, and if she didn't hurry he'd demand that she'd cum, and she always did when he told her to.

She felt the familiar warmth in the pit of her stomach, that delicious bubble that only he could pop, that he consistently popped, and felt it shatter again. She felt herself grip him, clench around him, her nails digging into his flesh, his name on her lips, and a few seconds later she felt him explode inside of her.

It'd been so long, and she didn't recognize the noises of pleasure coming out of her mouth.

It took several moments for them to still—their hips still met for several moments after their climax. Eventually he buried his face in her neck, his breathing hard. She wrapped her hands around him, kissing every part of him that she could until her heartbeat returned to a normal pace.

After several moments he slid off of her, though his arms wrapped themselves around her and he shifted her so that she was practically on top of him.

"I've missed you," he whispered.

She stared at him for several moments. "I have a confession."

"What's that, Princess?"

"I'm still very much in love with you, Haymitch."

He didn't stiffen. He didn't take a sharp breath. In fact he didn't even move. But his eyes instantly switched to the guarded Rebel she used to know. The man who was trained in never letting his face reveal anything.

"I'm pretty positive you feel the same way," she continued, "even if you'll never be able to say it. I know you. You might not think I do, but I do. I get why you can't say it. But I felt like you should know, and I should tell you before it's too late. I don't know how you feel about me being an Escort—"

"Former," he said immediately, and she stared at him.

His eyes were still guarded, but his eyes had never left hers as she talked.

"Former Escort," said Effie softly.

His hand made its way to her hair, and he tucked a few loose strands behind her ear.

"You're gonna drive me mental, aren't you? Because somewhere under the fear and the nightmares is the Rebel I fell for, and she's going to nag me every day." Effie smiled.

"Well you do have some things that need to be changed. And I can't live in this décor. It has to go."

He traced her face with his index finger and then reached up and kissed her. She met him halfway, and he didn't let her go until his body relaxed. When he pulled away his eyes were softer.

"Marry me," he breathed.

She hadn't expected it. It was the last thing she ever thought she'd hear him say.

It was the closest she'd ever get to an I love you, and it was all she'd ever need from him.

And what his mouth couldn't say, his body did. His desire always spoke the words from his heart.

"Just a small toasting. Nothing extravagant like what you'd see in the Capitol."

She realized she hadn't answered him yet. "A toasting with you and our Tributes sounds perfect," whispered Effie, her voice thick.

"Then it's a yes?"

"Try a hell yes," she responded, and her lips were on his again.


	106. Push Gift

_I'm not sure who originally coined the phrase 'push gift' but I first heard Tamar Braxton talking about it on Tamar and Vince, and as a woman who hopes to be blessed with a child someday (and a husband for that matter) I can only pray that I too can get a push gift. It's only natural, after all._

 _Push present (or push gift, or baby mama gift) is a present a father gives to the mother to mark the occasion of her giving birth to their child._

 _I thought it'd be HILARIOUS for Haymitch to hear about this custom. There MIGHT be a follow up to this IF people can suggest a few gift ideas. Leave them in REVIEWS, though._

 **PUSH GIFT**

 **Rated K**

They barged into his house, asking a million and one questions, and didn't give him a chance to answer any of them. After a while he just sat at his kitchen table in silence until they finally decided to breathe.

"Are you both finished?" asked Haymitch.

"Not really," Katniss responded. "We want to know what's going on. We haven't seen Effie for _weeks_." She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you do?" He frowned at her accusatory tone.

"Why do you think I did sometihn'?"

"Because Effie isn't here. Duh."

"She always leaves," argued Haymitch, a smirk on his face.

"Yes we know. Every Friday for the past five years she's been going to the Capitol. And every Sunday for the past five years, she makes her way back to you. To us. Until now. So what did you _do_?"

Haymitch took a deep breath. He'd been dreading this conversation for forever. "Sit down. Both of you." They stared at him for a minute, and then did as they were told.

"Did you guys have a fight?"

"Why's that your first conclusion?" asked Haymitch with a frown.

"Because you're Haymitch Abernathy, and you wouldn't know love if it stood on your doorstep with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a distinguished Capitol accent."

Haymitch mouth twitched. "I expected that from the boy, but from you? There's this whole the pot calling the kettle black thing…."

Peeta snorted and cleared his throat when Katniss shot him a look.

"If you hurt her…" Katniss warned Haymitch.

"How do you know she didn't hurt me? Why am I always made out to be the bad guy?"

"Because you _are_ the bad guy," said Katniss.

"I don't know, Katniss," Peeta finally said, looking around. "The house is still clean. Haymitch is still sober. I don't think she left him. And she'd never leave without saying goodbye. It wouldn't be proper."

" _Thank you_ ," said Haymitch. "Finally someone who knows something. Even if it is about Effie instead of me."

"So where is she then?" Katniss asked.

He took another deep breath. "In the Capitol, bringing home our son."

They blinked at him.

"There's a lot you don't know. _A lot_. I told you Effie was a Rebel. You know that much. But she was a plant from the start, like Cinna and Portia. I was blindsided. I'd hated her fucking guts. God I hated her," he said with a shake of his head. "I hated everything she represented. And then she told me the truth and… I fell for her. I don't know how she did it. Half the time I thought she was playing me. Like maybe I was some secret part of the mission. We started playing Real, Not Real. I taught that to Finnick, by the way. Anyway… she got pregnant. It was an accident. She put him up for adoption because it was way too risky to do anything but."

They stayed silent for a long time, until Katniss blurted out, "So you're a dad?"

Peeta elbowed her but Haymitch only snorted. "Trust me, it took me years to accept it.

"Why are you just now bringing him home?" asked Peeta. "Who is he? What's his name?"

"His name is Ash, and it took me this long to really believe that we were safe. I had to make sure, didn't I? Had to make sure I could stay sober. Had to come to peace with it." The two of them shared a glance and Haymitch felt his heart drop. "You two don't believe in me, do you?"

Peeta's mouth dropped open and Katniss scowled. "You're the most protective person we know," Peeta said, clearly offended. "Of course we believe in you. I'm just surprised it took you so long to bring him here. I mean he's safest with us." Haymitch stared at Peeta, surprised.

"You're scared," said Katniss softly.

"Fucking terrified. I can't tell you how badly I want to drink. More than ever. The only thing that's stopping me is I couldn't bare to disappoint Ash. He doesn't know I'm a screw up."

"You're not a screw up," Katniss said firmly. "You've done some screwed up things. You've lived a screwed up life, and made some screwed up decisions. But you're not a screw up."

"Feels like it," muttered Haymitch, though he was quite touched.

"When's he coming?" Peeta asked.

Haymitch shrugged. "Effie's getting it all together. It could take a while."

"How many more secrets do you have?" asked Katniss. "First you're a Rebel."

"Not just a Rebel," Peeta corrected. "You _led_ the Revolution."

Katniss nodded. "Now you have a kid. Anything else?"

He shook his head, a smirk on his face. "Trust me. Nothing else."

"Well thank you for answering all of our questions, and then some," Peeta said quite awkwardly. Then he grinned. "Did you get her a push gift?"

"A what?"

"A push gift," repeated Peeta.

"What the hell is that?"

"The gift you're supposed to give the mother of your child for having your baby."

Haymitch frowned and stared at Peeta suspiciously. "Did she put you up to this?"

Peeta laughed. "Of course not. But if you haven't, she definitely needs something. It's only proper, after all."

"Yah, well, I don't do proper."

"Get her the gift, Haymitch," Peeta said firmly. "And what are you doing about Ash's room?"

Haymitch blinked. "I'm building him a bed now."

"I can decorate it. I can paint a mural or something."

"I'll help," and they both stared at Katniss.

"What? I can write or something."

Haymitch shrugged. "Effie would like that, I think."

Katniss smiled. "You're gonna spoil that kid rotten."

"Am not."

"Oh yes you are. You already spoil Effie rotten."

He frowned. "No I don't."

"I bet you're trying to figure out what you're gonna buy her for her push gift."

"No I'm not either." He was. But they didn't need to know that. "We can start on Ash's room tomorrow, okay?" He got up and started heading towards the door, his mind reeling.

"Where are you going?" Peeta asked.

"Mind your business, boy," snapped Haymitch, and the two of them laughed.

He ignored them as he made is way to purchase her push gift.


	107. A Rainy Day in 13

_Stole this prompt from myself. It's kind of similar to my one-shot 'First Snow Fall.'_

 **A RAINY DAY IN 13**

 **Rated K**

He knocked on Effie's door, and much like they used to do all those years on the train, he didn't bother waiting for her to answer. He just walked in and found Effie still in bed.

"Effie?" Haymitch was surprised at how soft his voice was, which only proved how concerned he was. Effie mumbled something incoherent and he swallowed back the fear. Effie didn't _mumble_. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Effie, but it wasn't nothing. It was the middle of the day and she hadn't gotten out of bed yet. That certainly wasn't proper, and if Effie was anything, it was proper.

"If nothing's wrong then get outta bed," Haymitch responded.

"Go away, Haymitch." He frowned. "I don't feel good, okay?"

Now Haymitch was really concerned. He could go get Mrs. Everdeen. "What is it, Princess? Plutarch says you haven't eaten all day. Are you coming down with something?"

She sighed and pulled the covers over her head without answering.

"Just tell me if I need to go get Mrs. Everdeen." He walked up to the bed, looking at her covered form.

"No. Just leave me alone."

Her voice was shaking, and Haymitch thought he knew what was wrong. "Is… is this about what we saw last night?" Effie choked out a sob and he sighed, sitting down on the bed. "I thought we had this discussion last night." She didn't answer. She just kept sobbing quietly. "Okay, Princess," Haymitch finally said after several moments. "Get up and get dressed."

"Leave me alone," snapped Effie.

"No." He pulled the cover away from her and grabbed her. She scowled at him but didn't put up much of a fight. "Get up, shower, and get dressed. You've got fifteen minutes or I'm coming back in here with a bucket of cold water."

He left and came back in twenty, giving her an extra five, a bucket of water in his hand. He realized almost immediately he wouldn't have to use it. Effie was up and ready, a scowl still on her face. Haymitch smirked. "Just consider this payback for all those parties you made me get ready for over the years."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want, Haymitch?"

He sat the bucket down. "Follow me," he said without answering.

She did as she was told with an annoyed sigh. "I'm not hungry," hissed Effie as they made their way to the cafeteria, but Haymitch didn't answer. When they passed by without entering Effie frowned and started mumbling.

"You shouldn't mumble. It's rude." Effie huffed but did as she was told, after giving him another scowl. They walked in silence for several moments as they headed towards their destination. Effie glanced around, not exactly sure where they were headed. They made several twists and turns, and walked down corridors and hallways. Eventually they reached a staircase and started making their way up.

"Where are we going?" asked Effie.

"Trust me, it'll be worth the journey." Effie followed him in silence, and after a while they made their way to a thick, steel door. Haymitch grabbed his badge from his pants and placed it against the card reader. It beeped green and the steel door started to rise.

Effie blinked at the sunlight pouring in.

"Oh my gosh," she breathed. "You're letting me outside?"

"Only if you promise to sop moping." He pulled her to him. "Peeta may not be okay, but he's alive. He's going to stay alive, because they're not going to kill him. They can't. They'd have nothing to hold over Katniss' head. Trust me, okay?"

"Okay," said Effie softly. He stared at her for a few minutes, and then they made their way outside. She looked around for a few moments, blinking against the sun's rays.

"C'mere," he told her, grabbing her hand. He led her around the ruins and followed the trail until he reached the creek.

"Oh, Haymitch. It's lovely." He rolled his eyes at her word choice. She let go of his hand and walked towards the edge, taking a deep breath. And then, Effie Trinket, in all her proper glory, sat down on the ground, removed her heels, and stuck her feet in the water.

He wasn't quite sure at how sanitary that was, but he didn't say anything for two reasons: one, he couldn't really talk about being sanitary when he lived in ruins, and two, it seemed to make her happy, so he let her be.

"Join me," stated Effie in a commanding tone.

"No thanks," he snorted. He left and walked towards a small field, filled with yellow flowers. He had no idea what. They could be anything: sunflowers, daisies, bulbinellas… anything. He bent down and picked a handful of them, and then marched over to Effie and handed them to her.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but the smile on her face took away the embarrassment and made it all worth it. She laughed, and it was such a lovely—hm… maybe it wasn't such a bad after all—sound that it had his heart pounding. She took the flowers.

"Well aren't you sweet?"

"Don't tell anyone," he warned. Finnick would never let him live it down if he found out.

"Don't worry, Dear, your deep, dark secret is safe with me," answered Effie with a smile. That smile thing was contagious, he realized, because he found himself smiling back at her.

She broke eye contact first, a faint blush on her cheeks as she turned, bringing the flowers to her nose and sniffing. After awhile she looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she realized he was still watching her.

"You better?" asked Haymitch.

"I am. But I'd do a lot better if you sat down next to me."

"No such luck. I'm old, and it takes too much effort to get back up."

Effie laughed, and he blamed it on her laugh for getting him distracted. He was Haymitch Abernathy. Not too much surprised him, or caught him off guard.

But when it came to Effie, he was always surprised and caught off guard, so he really shouldn't have been all that shocked when water hit him in the face. He'd been thinking about how he'd love to just freeze this moment, and then he was snapped back to reality.

"Trinket. I know you didn't just—" _Splash_! Another wave of water hit him in the face, and his mouth sprung open. "Effie!" She giggled and cupped more water into her hands, this time splashing his jacket. "Damn it woman, stop! Some of us have work to do, you know."

Effie stood up and splashed him again. "Serves you right. I've been working by myself for our entire career together."

"You splash me again, Effie, and I swear—" He coughed as more water hit him in the face, and he finally lost it. "That's _it_!" He walked towards her. "You're gonna bloody pay for that."

She saw the glint in his eyes and sobered up rather quickly. "Haymitch, wait. I only just splashed you." She started backing away from him, her hands up.

"And now I'm gonna drown you," Haymitch said, advancing on her.

"Haymitch, if you throw me in this pond, you're coming in there with me." She'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before she squealed as he picked her up. "This punishment honestly doesn't fit the crime! Let me go!"

"As you wish, Princess."

Effie gasped as he walked her towards the water. "Don't you dare!"

It was too late. She felt him start to release her. It was almost in slow motion. But she gripped him and jerked her body.

They both gasped as they came up for air. He looked murderous, and Effie bit her lip. Then, when she couldn't take it anymore, she burst out laughing.

"This is not funny," he barked.

"Yes it is," laughed Effie. "It's quite hilarious." He scowled. "Oh, don't be mad, Haymitch." She swam up to him and he stared at her through narrowed eyes.

"What if I couldn't swim?"

"I know you can swim."

"Well I wasn't in the mood for it today."

"Too bad, so sad."

"Get out. Now."

"Aw," pouted Effie. "But we just got in."

"Get out, or I'll pull you out." She arched an eyebrow. Great. A bloody challenge. She started swimming away from him. "I'm not in the mood for this, woman!" She ignored him and kept swimming away, until he reached out and yanked her back to him. She laughed again, until he backed up and pushed her against the edge.

He hadn't meant to do it. He only wanted to grab her so he could pull her out. But suddenly they were much too close, and her breath caught in her throat once she realized how close in proximity they were to each other. He all together forgot how to breathe.

Somehow his hands made their way to her hips. They loitered there for several moments.

This was different. This wasn't nighttime, or in the privacy of one of their individual bedrooms. This was broad daylight, and outside at that, and they had yet to share anything in the middle of the day, be it underground or above it.

 _She_ did it, he realized, once those blue eyes flickered down to his lips. She was the one who created this moment, this… _tension_. But it was he who made the first move, though, and he was surprised that they weren't electrocuted at the sparks that flew the minute their lips touched.

Before either of them could really get into it, though, a voice called out.

"Soldier Abernathy? Where are you?"

Effie sighed. "Her timing is always impeccable," she muttered. Her face was annoyed as he picked her up, helping her out of the creek. He pulled himself out as she grabbed her shoes, and, he was pleased to note, the flowers he'd picked.

When they reached Alma Coin her eyes narrowed to slits. "You know better, Soldier." Her disdain wasn't masked as she looked over Effie. "Go dry off, and then I want you in my office. Twenty minutes, Soldier."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow, ignoring the water droplets that slid down his nose. "I worked with Effie for twenty years, and she couldn't control me. I highly doubt you'll get me to listen to you. So save the lecture. I do what I want." Her jerked his head and he and Effie fell into step together, walking inside.

"Just one little correction, Dear," said Effie. He turned to her, still walking. "Twenty years working together and I'm the _only_ one who could control you."

"Yah, yah, yah."

As they made their way closer to their rooms, people started to appear. They all stared at them curiously. Effie kept her eyes lowered, blushing slightly, but Haymitch kept his head held high, not at all caring.

Until Finnick appeared, arching an amused eyebrow.

"It's pouring outside," Haymitch said, much to Effie's amusement. "Raining cats and dogs. Everybody should stay inside."

"Right," snorted Finnick. "Gotta love those rainy days. They're awfully… romantic." He winked at Effie. "Nice flowers." She flushed and Haymitch scowled, grabbing Effie's hand and walking off. Finnick's laughter rang in their ears.

In Command, Beetee quickly started to delete the footage of Haymitch and Effie kissing. Coin had, fortunately, already been on her way outside when that happened, and Beetee felt it was a moment that should stay between Haymitch and Effie.

Well, and him too, he guessed.

But it certainly wasn't any of Coin's business.

He smiled as he watched one last time, and then officially deleted the evidence.

He quickly edited the tape so the doctoring he did wouldn't be noticeable.

 _Good for them_ , he thought with a smile.


	108. Girls Night In

_Follow up to Making Friends (Chap 77), since you guys liked Morelle so much._

 _Also, I didn't get a lot of responses for Titanic…. What do you guys think, should I make Jack/Rose Hayffie?_

 _Also, I REALLY love getting you guys involved in my stories, because your ideas are BRILLIANT, so I HAVE TO ask this: I need a first name for Mrs. Everdeen. I DON'T want to use a flower name, because it's SO typical, and I also want to point out that Mrs. Everdeen was NOT from the Seam. She was originally from the Town. I've got a few ideas, but I wanted to give you guys the opportunity to WOW me, like you always do._

 _Looking forward to your ideas in a Review! Enjoy._

 **GIRLS NIGHT IN**

 **Rated T**

"What am I gettin' dressed for again?" whined Haymitch, and Effie shook her head as she walked to their closet.

"I _told_ you. The guys are getting together down at the pool hall tonight," Effie told him for what literally had to be the millionth time.

"And what's that gotta do with me?"

"I'm having a _girls_ night _in_. _You_ can't be here."

"Since when can't a man be in his own bloody house?"

"Since tonight," hummed Effie, grabbing a denim shirt. She turned and grabbed his casual khaki pants and brought them out. "Here. Put this on."

"Hey, you're not my Escort anymore. You don't get to tell me what to do."

Effie grinned. "Darling I'm practically your wife. Of course I do." Haymitch scowled and Effie walked up to him, handing him the clothes. "Do stop arguing and go ahead and shower and get dressed. The girls will be here soon enough."

Haymitch grumbled the entire time, and Effie stared after him, amused. She made her way downstairs just as Peeta came by with cupcakes. It was just one of the many sweet treats he had made for her today.

"You are perfection, Peeta," Effie breathed. "I do believe I'm going to be quite rude and eat one now."

Peeta smiled. "If you let me have one too, I won't tell."

"Deal."

Peeta grinned and they both grabbed a lemon cupcake. Effie moaned.

"That better be the boy's food, and not the boy making you sound like that." Effie laughed at Haymitch.

"Of course not," grinned Effie.

"Good. 'Cus I'm the only man that gets to make you sound like that."

" _Seriously_?" Peeta asked, looking disgusted. "That's _so_ wrong. I'm like your kid."

"You're right," said Effie. "We apologize." She turned to Haymitch. "You look very nice."

"I look like I let my wife dress me."

"That's ridiculous. I'm not even your wife."

Peeta snorted. "I'll see you in a little bit, Haymitch."

"Send Katniss over whenever," Effie stated, and then turned back to Haymitch. "If you promise to be _nice_ tonight, I swear I'll thank you in kind."

He arched an eyebrow. "Thank me how?"

Effie smiled. "I think I can think of a few things…." She pressed her body against his, her hands making their way down his pants.

"Well shit," grunted Haymitch. Effie kissed him, her heart hammering against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Don't start something you can't finish, Trinket."

"Maybe if we hurry," Effie panted, grabbing his hand. They made their way upstairs where they wasted no time. If they were good at anything, it was quickies. She lifted her skirt and he unbuckled his pants. They didn't even make it all the way up to the room.

It was strange how even after five and a half years of being able to do this nearly every day they couldn't keep off of each other.

They finished just as they heard the first knock. Her heart hammering he put her down, not immediately letting her go. He kissed her, roughly, his breath hot against hers.

Effie cleared her throat. "How do you _do_ that?" she asked.

"It's your fault," said Haymitch, smirking. "You make me want you all the bloody time."

Effie shook her head. "Do I look like I've been doing exactly what I've been doing?"

"You look relaxed instead of frazzled, so yes."

She pouted. "Just act natural around them. They all want to know how good you are in bed anyway."

Haymitch snapped his neck to her. " _What_?"

"It's _girl chat_ , Haymitch, what do you expect?" She smoothed out her skirt as another knock sounded. "Zip up your pants, and don't come downstairs with that 'My-girlfriend-just-screwed-me' smirk on your face."

"But my girlfriend did just screw me," he smirked, pulling her back to him.

"And she never will again if you don't let her go," said Effie.

He laughed. "You couldn't stay off of me if you tried."

She huffed, because he was right, but she finally escaped his grasp and made her way back downstairs. She immediately opened the door to find five ladies standing outside her doorway.

"We thought we had the wrong house at first," Morelle said.

"I'm so sorry. I was upstairs and couldn't immediately answer the door. Come on in!" Effie moved aside and let them all in. "Make yourselves at home."

There were blankets and wine in the living room, and a plethora of pillows all around. Most of the women huddled towards the couch, and a few of them got on the floor. Effie grabbed _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and put the DVD in the DVD player. Then she grabbed glasses and some of the cupcakes.

She was just putting them down when Haymitch came downstairs.

"Why are there so many of you?" he asked, clearly surprised.

Effie stared pointedly at him. "Don't be _rude_ Haymitch."

He rolled his eyes. "What are you guys watching?" Effie picked up the DVD and Haymitch snorted. "Should have fucking known. Pool sounds _so_ much better. If I find a girl named Tiffany I'll send her here."

The ladies burst into a fit of giggles and he narrowed his eyes at them. Strange. Everyone of them. The whole species.

At that moment the door opened, and in walked Katniss.

"There you are," said Effie with a smile.

"They got _you_ to come?" Haymitch barked out a laugh. "Tonight's gonna suck for you. You woulda been better off with me, and Peeta would have been better off here."

"That's what I said," muttered Katniss. "Peeta's outside."

"Alright Princess. I'm out." He looked around at the women. "I've no bloody clue when I'll be back."

They laughed again.

"Haymitch wait." Effie walked up to him and he sighed.

"I promise I'll be good. I won't drink, even though I'm going to a pool hall, where alcohol will _surely_ be in my grasp. I don't want to hear your mouth about my drinking for the rest of my life. That's why I quit in the first place. It wasn't because I was sick of drinking, or because it was sending me to an early grave, but because I couldn't bare the thought of being told off by you ever day for the rest of my bloody life."

Effie arched an eyebrow. "I was going to tell you to have fun, and to give those men a run for your money."

"Oh."

"You're an idiot. Goodbye."

She gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and was about to walk away when he grabbed her, pulled her to him, and kissed her, hot and heavy, until she let out an involuntary moan.

It was the bouts of laughter, the applause, and a " _Really_?" from Katniss that had her pushing him away, her face slightly red.

"You are insufferable fool," she told him, breathing hard.

He smirked at her. "Have fun tonight. I'll see you later." With a wink he was gone, and Effie turned back to face her guests.

"He's so dreamy," said Valora with a sigh.

"Ew," Katniss said.

"Yours is dreamy too," commented Althea, and the rest of the ladies nodded.

Katniss glared at Effie and she took that as her cue to turn on the movie.

They ate badly, drank too much, and sighed at every romantic moment on screen so that by the time it was over, they were all a bubbling mess.

Well, almost everyone.

"I don't get it," Katniss said. "Who was Tiffany?"

"Next time, she goes with the boys," said Morelle.

"You have to forgive Katniss. She and Haymitch are practically the same human being."

"I resent that," Katniss said, and the women laughed.

"So Effie," another woman said. "What was that kiss about?"

"I've no idea," Effie blushed.

Morelle leaned forward. "You're lying. You're blushing."

Effie stared at them all. "I might have promised him a treat if he behaved himself."

Katniss frowned but the rest of the ladies perked up. "He seemed in an awfully good mood when he left," Morelle said slyly.

"I've no idea what you're talking about." Effie stood up and poured another glass of wine.

"Right," snorted Althea. "If I had a man who looked like Haymitch, I'd never leave the house."

"I'd never wear clothes," stated a blonde woman.

"I'd have been pregnant in a day," Valora agreed

"Do you guys ever talk about it? Having kids?" asked Morelle.

"No." Effie's answer was immediate, and definite, and no one picked up on her tone, except Katniss, who stared at her.

"Why not? I'd give that man as many babies as my body could carry," Althea said

"So would I," agreed the blonde woman.

"Haymitch doesn't want children," Effie stated. "And even if he did, I wouldn't have them." She took a long drink of her wine, her fingers gripping the glass tightly. They were all staring at her. "I can't have children."

"Why not?" Morelle said. "I mean you're Capitol. You've got money. Haymitch has more money than God. You could fix… whatever's wrong."

"She's not Capitol," snapped Katniss. "She's a Rebel."

"Yes. Of course. I didn't mean… I meant she has _access_ to the Capitol."

"I can't get it fixed," Effie said firmly. "Besides, it doesn't matter. Haymitch and I would never have children. Victors don't have children."

"Is it because of what they did to you? In your cell?" asked Katniss gently. Effie jerked but didn't answer. "Haymitch wouldn't tell us what they did. And he wouldn't let us see your trial."

Effie stayed silent and Katniss reached out and grabbed her hand. She'd seen Haymitch do that sometimes.

But she wasn't Haymitch.

"Why don't you say we start another movie?" Morelle asked quietly, but Effie didn't answer.

"Effie?" called Katniss. "Effie."

No answer.

"Should we go get Haymitch?" Morelle asked.

It was Haymitch's name that snapped Effie out of it. "No," breathed Effie. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Katniss said. "Do you wanna call it a night?"

Effie looked around. "No. No, honestly, I'm okay. Let's put it in the next movie." She looked around, blushing slightly. "Unless… have I ruined everything?"

"Not at all," Althea said, and the rest of the women shook their heads. "What's next?" Althea got up and walked towards the DVD player.

" _16 Candles,_ " said Effie, and all the women perked up.

"Another classic," Morelle smiled, and Effie smiled back at her.

"What do you say we open another bottle of wine?"

"I say Haymitch has been a bad influence on you," joked Morelle.

Effie grinned. "He's been a good influence too."

They all laughed. "I bet he has," smirked Morelle.

Effie got up and walked to the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine, Morelle following her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she whispered.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Does that happen often?"

"Not anymore. It's definitely been a while."

They walked back over to the living room just as the movie was starting. Effie poured them all a new glass of wine. Determined to enjoy this night with her new friend, Morelle cleared her throat and got everyone's attention.

"To girl's night in," Morelle said, raising her glass.

"To girls night in," everyone repeated, and they clinked glasses.


	109. Twenty-Five Million

" _Ash and Haymitch argue about Haymitch not claiming him his first few years of life." –Happy5. WASN'T a very happy prompt, Happy5 LOL. This takes place far, far into the future. Ignore characters you don't know. Or not. Maybe you should wonder who they are =)_

 **TWENTY-FIVE MILLION MINUTES**

 **Rated T for language**

"Aren't you the absolute most adorably baby _ever_?" cooed Haymitch, and it was so weird seeing Haymitch coo. Johanna snorted, Katniss' eyebrows shot into her hair, Ava bit her cheek while Ember bit her lip, and Annie giggled while Rye and Willow just laughed. Haymitch ignored them all. Fin and his wife stared at their child fondly.

At that moment someone stepped forward. "Well that's kind of rude, don't you think?" Haymitch looked up to see his grown son of twenty-three years. Haymitch frowned at the look on Ash's face, but then Effie ran up to him.

"I missed you," squealed Effie. "How are you? Let me look at you."

"Stop smothering him, Princess," Haymitch snorted.

"Like you do with Finneas?" Effie turned back to Ash when Haymitch didn't answer, smiling smugly at her son. "Where are your bags? Why didn't you say you were here? We would have picked you up."

"It's okay. I got a room at a hotel in town." Haymitch looked at Ash, another frown on his face. Effie's smile faltered as well. "And I didn't say I was here because I figured you'd be… preoccupied." His eyes flickered to the bundle in Haymitch's arm, and his voice didn't sound like he was being courteous.

"Ash, what's wrong?" asked Effie.

"Yah," Haymitch said, handing Finneas back to Finn. "What _is_ wrong with you?"

Ash eyed his father coldly. "Nothing," the boy said, making it quite clear it was definitely something. Haymitch just arched an eyebrow. "I just think to claim Finneas as the most adorable little boy ever is an exaggeration. I mean have you _seen_ every little boy in all of Panem?"

Effie stiffened. "Ash, I don't like the way you're talking to your father."

"No," said Haymitch. "Seems like there's something he wants to get off his chest. Let him speak his mind." Ash stayed silent, so Haymitch continued. "You're right. I haven't seen every little boy in the world."

"Yah," Ash spat. "Including me." Aside from Ava's gasp the room was instantly silent, and if it was because of Effie's slap or if it was due to the death glare Haymitch sent his son, no one knew.

"Everybody out," barked out Haymitch almost immediately. No one argued. Johanna, Katniss, Peeta, Willow, Rye, Annie, Finn, and his wife all disappeared outside. Ava, Ember, and Effie stayed. "You three as well," Haymitch said to them.

"Haymitch—" Effie tried, but Haymitch sent her a look.

"I won't repeat myself." Effie stiffened, her eyes pleading with him, but he didn't budge. In the end Ava grabbed Ember and Effie's hand and they left, tears in Effie's eyes. Haymitch followed them as they left, and then his eyes rested back on Ash. "Start talking, boy."

"Do you have _any_ idea what it's like to see you holding another child? To know you never held me like that?"

Haymitch stared at Ash for several moments, things suddenly clicking into place. For the past few years or so things had been different between them. He'd call, but only talk to Effie. When they did talk it was always for a few minutes, and then they were hanging up. Ash talked to Effie every day, but not Haymitch. Things were different between them, and now Haymitch knew why.

"So you're upset I wasn't there the first few years of your life."

"No. I'm upset because you never apologized for it."

Haymitch wished for a bottle. It'd been probably a little over ten years since he actually itched for a drink: when the boy turned twelve, and the day of the Reaping that same year. He hadn't pictured himself with a bottle since then, but this? He wasn't quite sure how he'd recover from this pain. He thought of that shiny new bar in town.

"You know why it took us so long to meet?" asked Haymitch

"Because you didn't know if it was safe or not."

"But do you know what I wanted you safe from?"

"The Hunger Games."

"The Hunger Games," Haymitch repeated, nodding. "You ever seen my Games, boy? Not the shit they taught in you school, my _real_ Games?"

Ash took a deep breath. "No."

"You rember what happened?" Ash shook his head, much like he did when he was a child, and he knew he was about to get in trouble. "It was a Quarter Quell. Twice as many Tributes had their name picked that year. I went in with forty-seven other people. Eight of them died at my hands. Wanna know their names?"

"No." Ash's voice had turned to a whisper.

"Wanna know how they died? Cus I remember that too." Ash shook his head again, paling.

Haymitch walked towards the kitchen, because he needed to do something. He was so close to losing it. "Did I ever tell you how your grandmother died? My mother? Or why you don't have an uncle spoiling you rotten? President Snow killed them; because of the way I'd won my Games. Killed the girl I was sweet on, too." Haymitch took a shaky breath, remembering a time when he could pour himself a glass.

"Dad, I—"

"Shut up." Haymitch looked away, remembering it all. "I still remember your first day of school. Bloody terrified to leave you in someone else's care. I remember the first time you ever had a nightmare and screamed. I thought someone was trying to fucking _kill_ you. I thought the idea of monsters under the bed and in the closet was stupid, but I'd rather it be that than the fear of the Games. The fear never goes away. I still have nightmares, you know." Ash _did_ know. "So does your mother. And Katniss and Peeta. Johanna. Annie. So much death. Because even after my Games, I was a Mentor, and forty-eight other kids died at my hands. I still think about them all, especially without the drink."

He turned and faced Ash, faced his son. "The last drop of alcohol I had was the day Effie told me she found you, a year and a half after the war." He paused, clearly in another place, at another time. His hands trembled. "I still remember the day she told me she was pregnant. I'd never thought I could be more afraid, but I was that day. And I wasn't afraid for me. I was afraid for you. I knew you awaited a fate worse than me. Victor's kids always went into the Arena. _Always_."

Haymitch started pacing and Ash watched in silence.

"And the fact that you were the son of an Escort _and_ a Victor? You didn't stand a fucking chance. And your mother surely would have been killed. All I could think about was how I was going to save you. So with the Rebel's help, Effie put you up for adoption. To _save_ you. It took me five years to think you were safe enough to come home. Five years to convince myself that no one like Snow would ever lead Panem again. I was _so_ scared. It's been close to fifty years since my Hunger Game, and I'm _still_ scared. You know I still can't tell your mother I love her? It gets caught in my throat, every time, because I know what happens to people I love. Fifty years of no relief. That's more than twenty-five minutes of me being afraid. Should I break it down in seconds?"

"No," whispered Ash. "God, no."

"I'm _terrified_ to have you outta my sight, Ash. It makes me long for the days where it was illegal to travel in between Districts. But I fought for a world where your spoiled ass could leave home and go live in the very Capitol that took _everything_ from me, and I never thought about letting my fear get the best of me and stopping you, or asking you to stay, because you're fucking _brilliant_ , and the engineering field needs your mind. But for someone so bright, you really are an idiot to think I didn't have your best interest at heart those first few years. And you've got some balls walking into my house, questioning my decisions that saved your fucking life. Because you were all I was thinking about when we put you up for adoption. Because if Snow found out, you'd have never had a normal life. And you want a apology?" Haymitch snorted. "Go to hell, Ash. Because you're standing in front of me today, making me wish for the bottle for the first time in over ten years, because of my choices that ultimately saved your fucking life." Haymitch made his way to his front door. "When I get back here, you better be gone."

He ignored Ash as he called out his name and left, slamming the door behind him.

He walked down the steps, passing Peeta and Katniss' house, where Effie materialized out of nowhere.

He ignored her too.

When Johanna found him, he was at that brand new bar they all feared he'd be at.

"Effie's gonna kick your ass," Johanna said without preamble.

"They won't serve me," mumbled Haymitch, and Johanna breathed a little bit easier. "And no one will buy me a drink."

"Good," Johanna said firmly.

Haymitch looked at her, and she looked away, because there were too many emotions swirling around in those dark grey orbs.

"Am I bad father, Jo?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," snapped Johanna. "Don't be fucking brainless. Your kid was jealous. That's it. He was trying to hurt you, and he succeeded, and he feels bad for being stupid. Go and make up with him. That kid's adored you for like, ever."

Haymitch took a deep breath. "Go back to my place and tell Effie I'm fine. I'll be home later."

"Fine. But don't fuck up, Haymitch." She caught the bartender's eye and he gave her a thumb's up. She nodded her appreciation and headed back to Victor's Village while Haymitch headed to Town to try and find Ash. He went to three different hotels, none of them having any record of his son.

He was one question away from panicking until one hotel manager told him that Ash had checked out earlier.

 _Oh no_.

Haymitch made his way home as quickly as possible, intent on waking Effie and dragging her to the Capitol if he had to. He had to make this right with Ash. When he reached his house he saw that the kitchen light was on.

"Effie," Haymitch said immediately, slightly out of breath. God he was getting old. "Ash is gone. He checked out the hotel and—"

"Haymitch. Relax. He's upstairs in his room." He nearly sagged with relief. Effie walked up to him, cupping his cheeks.

"I'm fine," said Haymitch.

"Well I'm not." She looked at him. "I don't know if I should kill you or kiss you."

"I'm sorry, Princess." He allowed her to hug him, and she stiffened as she inhaled. "I went to the bar, but I promise I didn't drink. The bartender refused to serve me." Effie took a deep breath and pushed him away so that she could look at him. "I'm okay. Johanna set me straight. I told her to tell you I was okay."

"She did, but she didn't say…." Effie shook her head and walked away. She was angry, he realized.

"I'm sorry."

She took another deep breath and then slowly turned around to face him. "Go make up with your son. When you're finished we can discuss how you're going to make it up to me."

He smirked, relieved that he wasn't _that_ old.

Or maybe he was. He found himself winded as he made his way up the stairs.

He knocked on Ash's door. The response was almost immediate. "Dad?"

"Yah, it's me."

His sigh of relief could be heard, and then Ash was getting out of bed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean it."

Haymitch waved away Ash, and he sat back down on his bed. Haymitch grabbed the desk chair and sat it in front of the bed, and his son. "I only wanna know one thing. If this is how you felt, why didn't you just say anything? We could have had this discussion years ago."

Ash sighed. "Somewhere, a part of me knew I was being stupid. I just saw you holding Finneas and all these feelings of resentment came out of nowhere. It was foolish. I'm sorry, Dad."

"Me too," Haymitch said quietly.

Ash shook his head. "You don't have anything to apologize for. I was way outta line."

Haymitch snorted. "Which is it with you? Make up your mind." Ash grinned, and then winced, rubbing his jaw. "C'mon. Let's get some ice on that jaw. I've been on the receiving end of your mother's slaps, numerous times. I've found that crushed ice works better than cubes."

"Did you teach her how to hit?"

"No. That was all her." Haymitch told Ash to go downstairs and Haymitch made his way to his bedroom. "Don't fall asleep on me, Princess. I'm thinking of ways to make up with you."

"I'll be up," she told him.

"Good."

He made his way downstairs to spend more time with his son, before he left back to the Capitol.

Haymitch mentally ticked off the minutes as they passed.

 _Originally I wanted Haymitch and Ava to have a moment, but then it hit me that she wouldn't be old enough to get into a bar. Yah. So it ended up being Johanna. Didn't really like this one. It's not Hayffie per say. But I hope you enjoyed it._


	110. When the World's at War

_AHHHHHH! Saw MJ2 and HOLY ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ! It was amazing and depressing and the feels and the ahhh and the tears and the laughs and the angst and the death and the LIFE. SO GOOD yet so bad too. So OF COURSE I'm posting a 13 one-shot. I WON'T POST MJ 2 MOVIE SPOILERS UNTIL DEC TO GIVE PEOPLE TIME TO SEE THE MOVIE. Now on to THIS story:_

 _I know it's been done a million times, and I'm doing it a million and one, but who the hell DOESN'T think in the movie world Hayffie were together during the bombing in 13? So OF COURSE I'm gonna write my own version! Not a song fic, just a wee bit of inspiration. BeyNONsay (oops, Beyonce, whatever) One Plus One._

 _Darling you got enough for the both of us (so come on baby)_

 _Make love to me_

 _When my days look low_

 _Pull me in close and don't let me go_

 _Make love to me_

 _So when the world's at war_

 _Let our love heal us all (right now baby)_

 **WHEN THE WORLD'S AT WAR**

 **Rated M**

Effie easily spotted Haymitch despite the scared mob of people. He was standing sideways in order to see everyone, his face firm, his eyes scanning the crowd. He appeared calm, but there was a frown on his face.

He was looking for her.

She supposed she wasn't as easily spotted here in 13 as she used to be in the Capitol, but it bothered her nonetheless that he couldn't find her anymore. It was probably the wrong time, and the wrong thing to be concerned about, figuring they were probably about to be blown to smithereens, but she certainly felt better when his eyes _finally_ locked with hers.

The relief that flashed in his eyes was obvious, and it had her heart fluttering. He wad gone in a second, and she lost him in the crowd. She panicked, until he was in front of her, and she let out a shaky breath. His hand automatically locked with hers as he pulled her to him. He breathed her in, and she greedily accepted the contact.

"Shouldn't you be in Command, or with Katniss?" Effie asked in his ear.

"Katniss is fine," said Haymitch. "And I should definitely be in Command, but I needed to…." His voice trailed off and Effie gripped him a little tighter. He'd been worried about her.

"Coin's gonna be mad at you." Haymitch shot her a look that told her exactly how much he didn't care about that, and they started to follow the crowd, winding their way down the many flights of stairs.

"We need to find your bunker," said Haymitch once they were finally below ground level, and they headed towards the _T_ line so she could get her assigned bed.

"Trinket, Trinket, Trinket," the man mumbled, and then he found her. "Right. Bed 56. Head straight back, make a right, it'll be in the farthest corner." He handed her a bottle of water, a flashlight, a blanket, and one pillow, and then they were off, Haymitch's hand on the small of her back.

"We need to hurry. I don't know how much longer we have," Haymitch told her. She wondered if he meant until the bomb dropped, or how much longer they'd be alive. Neither thought were very comforting, and she suppressed a shiver.

Haymitch grabbed the blanket from her, unfolding it until he found the sheet. He handed her the blanket back and put the flat sheet on the bed, and then placed the pillow on top of it. He then grabbed the blanket back from her and placed that on the bed.

When he caught her looking at him he arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"I had no idea you could make a bed, Haymitch."

"Do you really think _now_ is the time?"

"I'm just saying," she said. He rolled his eyes and then motioned for her to get in. She crawled in, the water bottle and flashlight still in her hand. She slipped off her shoes and immediately got under the covers. Haymitch had just settled in beside her when the first bomb hit.

Her scream caught in her throat but then Haymitch was there, his arms around her, pulling her to him.

Shielding her, she realized.

Everything shook, and it was pitch-black. The only reason she knew Haymitch was there was because she could smell him and feel him. He was whispering sweet nothings, about it being okay, about it being over soon, but she knew them for what they were: meaningless words of comfort to try and keep her calm.

When they experienced silence for longer than a minute his grip on her relaxed. "Is it over?" she whispered.

He bit his lip as he stared at her, tracing her cheek with his thumb. "No, Princess."

"I don't want to die like this."

He jerked, scowling. "Don't _talk_ like that, Effie. I didn't bring you here to 13 for you to still die. You won't die. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"You can't promise something like that," she argued back. "You can't control death, Haymitch."

She didn't have to see his eyes flashing to know that they were. He gripped her, the anger radiating off of him. "Shut the fuck up, Effie. Now."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and then the next bomb hit. The screams surrounding them scared her more than the actual bomb. People were terrified, and it made her even more scared, even with Haymitch's arms wrapped around her.

"Trade me places," murmured Haymitch when it quieted down again. "I don't want you against the wall."

"Why, so if it comes crumbling down you'll be crushed?"

"Exactly," he said, and he was already moving around.

"No," hissed Effie. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Move, Effie, or get moved."

He'd do it, too, and was strong enough, but there was still a little fight in her left. "I will _not_. This bomb will either kill us both, or neither of us."

He yanked her on top of him, and then she was off of him, and resting in the spot he had just vacated. She didn't have time to argue as the next wave of fear gripped her, and then she was in his arms.

It amazed her how much safer she felt, wrapped around him. He kept her body pressed to his, her face buried in his chest, and she felt relieved that he was with her. If there was anyone she wanted to die with, or die for, or die because of, it was Haymitch Abernathy, as a member of his team.

"Some days," she whispered, her voice thick, "I wish to be back in the Capitol. It gets so lonely sometimes, and granted I was lonely there, too, but there was always something to _do_ that distracted me from the horrible place I lived in. I had people who were my friends, even if I wasn't really theirs. But here? Other than you, Finnick, and Katniss, I have no one. And most of the time you're busy, and so are Katniss and Finnick. I don't always feel needed, unless Coin's using me to help Katniss get prepped. I don't regret it, though, okay? I made the right decision to become a Rebel, even if no one else accepts that decision."

"Effie—"

"I just wanted you to know I would do anything for you."

"How about shut up, because you're only saying this shit because you think you're about to die, and I already told you I'm not gonna let that happen?"

She swallowed her retort when another blast rendered her speechless. His instincts were amazingly ridiculous, she noted, and the way he shielded her body over his answered every question she ever had in regards to how he felt about her.

"Make love to me," said Effie softly.

Haymitch stilled, and suddenly, for a few moments at least, it was completely silent. Even in the dark, Haymitch's eyes peered into hers.

" _What_?" The question was spoken quietly, and disbelievingly, as if he thought he had truly misheard her.

So she repeated herself. "Make love to me." It was a simple request, really. They'd been toeing on this line for years now, and it was always going to come to this. Why not here, right now, at this moment, when it could very well be their last?

"I don't know how they do things in the Capitol, but in 12 we don't do things like that in a crowded room full of terrified people who're afraid they're about to get blown up."

She wiggled a little so that her hands were free. He was still immobile, which was fine with her. She was used to doing all the work. She kissed his scruffy jawline, his cheek, his lips, which he responded to.

"We're at war, Haymitch. The days are low. I just want you to hold me close and make love to me." Her voice caressed each word, and he heard the underlying message in them. When her lips sought his again he was even more ready for her.

Her hands made their way down his chest. She was pulling and tugging, almost impatient, and he gripped her hands firmly.

"Slow down, Princess," he told her, and then he was back to kissing her, his kiss deep.

She obliged. Her hands were trembling as she snaked her way to his pants. He gasped when she grabbed him through his pants, and the sound sent thrills shooting up her spine.

"Sh," she said softly, capturing his lips again, even though she doubted anyone would be able to hear them.

His hands seemed to be working just fine as he started unbuttoning her shirt. When his calloused hands finally connected with her breasts she let out a moan. He arched an eyebrow. "Now who's being loud?" She gripped him harder and a growl escaped out of his mouth. " _That_ was rude," he said, and she smirked against his lips.

She finally let him go and started undoing his belt. She didn't even hear the explosion this time. It was nothing compared to the pounding in her ears at the way Haymitch was kissing her, and she wondered if he was trying to distract her.

It was definitely working.

When his lips left hers she let out a frustrated sigh, which was completely drowned out by the soft cry she made when his lips replaced his hands on her breasts. Patience be damned, she needed to get his pants _off_ , so she was back to fumbling quickly, this time with belt buckles and zippers.

How she got his pants and boxers off without them ever breaking apart was beyond her, but she was _thrilled_ , and her hands made their way down to feel him. He grunted at the contact and she smiled.

He wanted her.

"Stop being a bloody tease," he mumbled at her throat.

"Me? You're the one kissing me everywhere."

"Not everywhere. _Your_ clothes are still on."

"I always have to do all the work," said Effie with an eye roll.

"I'm working too," Haymitch argued, and before she knew it, her headscarf was off. He ran his fingers through her hair, and then his lips were on her neck as his hands found their way back under her shirt.

She found it incredibly difficult to get her pants off when he was _distracting_ her, and he finally took pity on her, smacking his teeth no less, and pulled off her pants, making quick work of it.

"You could have done that ages ago," snapped Effie.

"I was busy." His voice was low, and husky, and God, it was _doing_ things to her.

"Inside me. Now."

He snorted. "Not very proper."

" _Please_ ," she whined, her hands gripping him again.

This time he cursed, burying his face in her neck to block out the sound.

"So demanding."

"That's why you like me," murmured Effie.

"And then some, Princess."

She didn't have time to dwell on the statement. She thought she knew, but suddenly she couldn't _think_ anymore. He was slowly, meticulously, deliberately, sliding inside of her, and she couldn't breathe, let alone form coherent thoughts.

Oh, they should have done this years ago. Years and years and _years_ ago.

There was no war. No bombs falling. No prospect of death.

There was just them, and _this_ , in this moment, right here, right now.

Her back arched once he finally fully filled her, and the strangled noise he made sounded like the sweetest music. He stayed still for several moments, and she was growing quite impatient. She wanted him, _now_ , right now, so badly that it hurt.

With her heart hammering she wrapped her legs around him, attempting to slide him in even further, and in the process her hips started rocking on their own accord. She needed him, badly.

"God," she whispered. " _Please_ , move Haymitch."

"Can't," he panted. "You're gonna kill me. I might already be dead. Heaven's wonderful."

She rolled her eyes and started moving, hoping it'd get a reaction out of him, but he jerked and pressed her hips down, relinquishing all of her control.

"Stop that," breathed Haymitch, "unless you want me to explode without allowing you any pleasure. You said to make love to you. I'm _trying_ to. If I wanted to fuck you senseless, which I plan to do at the next available moment, so you can scream until your heart's content, I'd start moving right now. But if you don't wanna alert all of 13 to what we're doing, I suggest you be patient and shut the fuck up."

"Now who's the tease?" Effie asked, her own voice breathy.

She couldn't see it, but she could hear the smirk in his voice. "Guess you aren't always prim and proper."

"Start _moving_ so you could find out," challenged Effie.

 _Finally_ he put her out of her misery, and he moved in and out of her slowly, tortuously slow, but at least he was moving. His hands found their way back to her breasts, and she realized he liked them. She made a mental note—or she hoped she did, it was hard to _think_ now that he was doing things to her.

She wished she could see him. Memorize every feature. Get to know which moves made him react what way, so next time—and there'd be a next time, she vowed—she could know what to do. She wanted to do this forever and ever, with no one but him.

"Ah, Effie." His voice was edgy, a gentle warning in the simple phrase.

It was fine. She could feel her own climax building, and she wouldn't have been able to stop it even if she wanted to prolong it. Her body started to tremble as it prepared for its release. She'd been with a few men in her lifetime, but none of them had ever held a candle to Haymitch. None of them ever would.

So it was easy, entirely too easy, to moan out his name as the orgasm ripped through her. There was no other name she wanted to call.

And there was no other man she wanted to call her name. No one would ever make her name sound the way it did like the way it rolled off of Haymitch's lips, even with the thousands of four letter words he chanted. It sounded like a prayer, like he revered her.

He quickly followed after she came, and Effie wasn't sure what was shaking the bed: Haymitch's strokes as he erupted inside of her, or the bomb that exploded, practically right on top of them.

The pleasure literally overwhelmed her, and the scream was on her lips. It would have been blocked out from the bomb or the other people screaming, but Haymitch, her Haymitch, her dear, seriously misunderstood Haymitch knew her, and his kiss covered her scream, even as her body betrayed what they were doing.

Oh, when this was all over, she'd surely have her way with him, and there'd be none of this _making love_ business. She wanted him to pull her hair and she wanted to claw at his back. She wanted it rough, to make her feel alive, because they were entirely too close to death right now.

He was still kissing her as he pulled out, and it was a good thing, too, because it muffled her moan.

She clung to him until he finally stopped kissing her and sat up. He rummaged around for several moments, and somewhere, way in the back of her mind that actually still worked, she realized he was putting his pants back on under the covers. It was that same part of her brain that told her she needed to do the same.

Her voice still hadn't returned when she was dressed again.

He was shaking as he buttoned her shirt back up.

He was back near the wall again, his arms around her as she rested on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair still, and she listened as his heartbeat finally returned to normal.

She wasn't sure hers ever would.

"You okay?" Haymitch finally answered. How sweet. He was worried she regretted it.

"Never been better," said Effie, resting her chin on his chest so that she could try and make him out. He shifted a little so that he could still stroke her hair.

"Liar," he snarled, and she shrunk. "Did we make a mistake?"

"Of course not. It's just…." Her voice trailed, and she debated with herself for several moments.

"Spill it, Trinket." His voice held an air of impatience that told her he desperately wanted this to end, so whatever the problem was, she needed to go ahead and say it.

She should lay it on him gently, she thought. She wasn't sure how he'd react, and whatever happened, she should _not_ just blurt it out.

"I'm in love with you, Haymitch."

Yes. That definitely went according to plan.

She immediately turned away so she wouldn't have to see his face.

He didn't tense. He didn't even stop stroking her hair. He didn't even stay silent all that long. "I know," was all he said.

Of _course_ he knew.

She wondered if he knew he was in love with her too.

"Is that going to be a problem?" asked Effie, testing the waters.

He frowned. "Will it be for you?"

"No," she said immediately. She was used to it. "Will it be a problem for you?"

He finally stopped stroking her hair and took his hands so that he could look at her. She couldn't see much. She could hardly make out any of his features.

"No, Princess. It's not a problem for me. Not at all."

It was as good of an admission that she'd ever get, and it was perfect. She rested her head on his chest again, content.

She didn't know what would happen next.

The nation was at war, but she had a little bit of love.

And any time, and place, at any moment, she'd let him make love to her.


	111. Seeking Advice

_Don't ask me where this idea came from LOL but I liked it!_

 **SEEKING ADVICE**

 **Rated T**

"Come in," Effie sang at the knock on her door as she finished wiping down the counters. The door opened and Effie looked up, her smile faltering when she saw the stranger walk through the door.

Grey eyes. Dark hair, slightly flecked with grey.

Beautiful.

Stunning, really.

"I'm so sorry," the stranger breathed, looking around. "I must have the wrong house. I'm so embarrassed."

Effie took in the Seam grey eyes and the brunette hair. "You must be looking for Haymitch." The woman couldn't hide her surprise, and she quickly took Effie in: dark red hair, light blue eyes, freckles. Her eyes were curious as she tried to make out who she was.

 _Oh_.

"I'll go and get him," stated Effie, wiping her hands on her towel. "He's out feeding the geese."

"Geese?"

Effie smiled at her as she made her way to the backdoor. "I've asked myself that exact same question every single day." She opened the door and stepped outside, leaving it slightly ajar. "Haymitch, you have company."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll be in a minute to _mind my manners_ and speak to the girl I see every bloody day. I don't see why I have to ask how high every time Katniss says jump. Do that enough with you, don't I?"

Effie rolled her eyes. "I don't mean Katniss."

"Oh." He frowned. "Well who is it then?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't ask her name."

"You just let somebody in?" She heard the underlying panic, and saw it flash in his eyes as he immediately stepped up to the backdoor, his hand behind him, already gripping the handle of his knife, which he had no problem locking up at night, but still insisted on carrying around during the day.

"Don't be silly, Haymitch, she's not a threat."

He didn't look convinced and still pulled her behind him as he swung open the door.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

" _Hazelle_?"

 _Oh_ , Effie thought again. The woman who used to clean his house. It shocked her, that she remembered the name, except when she'd come to see him and found his house clean after the 74th Hunger Games and had been told the kids had hired some _woman_ to clean up after him, the name had stuck with her.

"Haymitch," breathed Hazelle, and then she was in his arms.

This Hazelle was _extremely_ lucky that Haymitch didn't hug her back, otherwise it'd have been war. She had learned the art of possessiveness from Haymitch Abernathy himself.

"What're you doin' here?" asked Haymitch.

She stepped back, but she was still much too close for Effie's comfort. "I need your help," she stated.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie sat the tea down and handed Haymitch his cup. He brushed his fingers against her, whether on purpose or accident she didn't know, but it instantly calmed her.

"Thanks," said Hazelle when Effie handed her the tea.

"So what's wrong with Gale?" Haymitch asked.

Hazelle blinked. "Oh, I'm not here because of Gale. Gale is… Gale's come to terms with everything that's happened during and since the war. I'm not here about Gale, though Gale _is_ why I'm here." Both Effie and Haymitch just blinked. "He worships the ground you walk on, Haymitch. In his mind you and Katniss won this war. For the first five years whenever he'd come to visit us—we live in Victor's Village in 2 while Gale lives in the city, close to his job—he'd always bring your file with him, almost like you were a class he was studying. That's why I'm here, because he always talks about how brilliant you are, and I could use a little bit of brilliant."

"Go on," Haymitch said, leaning back.

"It's Rory." Hazelle took a deep breath. "He's… not doing so well. I don't think he's ever… recovered from Prim's death." Effie stilled, immediately knowing where this was going. Haymitch just continued to stare at Hazelle. "He's… not well, Haymitch. He reminds me… _a lot_ of you."

Haymitch sat his tea down, his body slightly stiff. "He's drinking."

"A lot," Hazelle breathed, as if she was happy he'd figured it out. "He has been since he turned eighteen. Now that he's actually legal…. Some days he doesn't even leave his room. He's shut everybody out. Sometimes he'll leave late at night and come home smelling like the bars he's been in. I'll go into his room and see bottle after bottle. I don't know what to do." Her eyes welled with tears as she leaned forward. "I remember you, Haymitch. We were in school together, had every homeroom together. I remember who you were before your Games. And I remember your family, and your girl. And I know you don't like to talk about it," Hazelle continued quickly, "but you're the only one I know who understands what Rory's going through. How do I fix this?"

Haymitch didn't answer. He just kind of stared off into the distance for a few moments before Effie cleared her throat.

"Haymitch, could you excuse us for a moment?" asked Effie. He and Hazelle both blinked at her. "Why don't you go and make sure you didn't leave the pen open so the geese don't roam around Victor's Village?" She turned to Hazelle. "He does it like three times a week."

Hazelle just blinked at her, and then frowned when Haymitch actually got up.

Who _was_ this woman, and what power did she have over Haymitch to make him get up and actually do as he was told? She was beautiful, Hazelle noted, but Haymitch had never let beauty distract him before.

He smirked at Effie. "Okay, Princess," he said, and Hazelle realized he _loved_ her. It was obvious. He stared at her… with the same longing he used to stare at a good bottle of liquor.

When Haymitch was gone Effie turned back to Hazelle. "Listen, I know a thing or two about a man who's so broken that his only comfort is the bottle. First thing first, stop him from isolating himself. When you're isolated, it's easier to talk yourself into drinking. There's no one to hold you accountable. Secondly, get him help. PTSD is no joke. It's real, and there's treatment. But if you don't nip it in the bud early, it'll destroy him." She glanced at the door. "Also, love him. Just love him as best as you can. Whatever that means, do it. Try and stop it before it gets so bad that he won't be able to decide for himself. Haymitch loves me with every fiber of his being, but he loved his liquor more. There were some days I had to make the decision for him. Either me or it. As time passed it got easier for him to choose me. Also, make him realize it's not his fault. Haymitch blamed himself for every person who's died, like, ever, when really it was Snow's fault. Prim died because of Coin. It wasn't Rory. It wasn't Gale or Beetee. It was Coin. But people tend to glamorize people in death. I know your son cared about Prim, and that they were friends, but I'm sure she wasn't perfect. Help him remember that she was human, and so is he."

Hazelle just blinked at her. "Who _are_ you?"

Before Effie could answer the door swung open. "The pen is secure, Princess. Happy?"

Effie smiled at him. "Very." Haymitch walked back into the living room and sat down.

"Did she help?" Haymitch asked Hazelle

Hazelle paused and looked between them. They sat close together, their chemistry obvious. She seemed… familiar, but she couldn't quite place her. She noticed the wedding band on each of their fingers.

"Yah," Hazelle finally said, standing. "She did. Thanks for listening to me. I didn't know who else to turn to, and Gale always spoke so highly of you…. And I remember you in 13…. You were much like the kid I'd grown up with."

They walked her to the door, where she hesitated briefly, staring between them again. Gale hadn't mentioned that he was married now, but it didn't matter. She gave them a brief smile and then she left.

"She loved you," Effie stated.

"I think, yah. We were friends… Close friends. Like Katniss and Gale close…."

Effie arched an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"I dated Nova, and then I was Reaped, and… then nothing."

"Never?" Haymitch shook his head. "Not even when she cleaned your house or while you two were in 13?"

"Do you not know the definition of never?" Effie just looked at him. "I don't know her. I'm not the same guy she grew up with, and then she went on and got married… and… I have no idea who she is. I wasn't much a friend, not even when her husband died in the mining accident."

He frowned at that, and then turned to the kitchen.

"You had things in common."

"Not really. She had kids, and… well I wasn't gonna risk them anymore by giving the Capitol any leverage. I'd lost enough people I cared about, thanks." Effie walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Except you. You're worth the risk. After all, I do love you with every fiber of my being."

He was teasing her, but she blushed nonetheless. "It is quite rude to eavesdrop, Haymitch." He laughed, pulling her closer. "Relax, Princess, I'm only messing with you. And it was good advice."

"I should know," muttered Effie. He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Haymitch?"

"Hm?"

"You didn't actually check to see if you closed the pen, did you?"

"No. Why?"

" _Because the geese are running around the Village_." Haymitch cringed. He'd be in for it now, which he knew without having to see the death glare from Effie.

He hastily made his way outside to collect the geese.


	112. Model Behavior

_AHHHH! I GOT MY CALENDAR STORY! SO excited! Hope you guys like it as much as I do! FINALLY! Those of you who've been following my stories know that I've been trying to write this one for ages. It finally came to me. Also this title SO reminded me of that OLD ASS movie with Justin Timberlake. Does anybody remember it? God please bring back the 90s!_

 **MODEL BEHAVIOR**

 **Rated T**

"Oh my gosh! I found it!" Portia squealed as soon as she got off the elevator.

"Portia, I don't think she's going to be excited about," said Cinna, quite seriously.

"If _Haymitch_ had found it, maybe. But _I'm_ her friend," Portia argued.

"How'd I get into this?" asked Haymitch, walking into the living room, looking as dapper as ever. He had on one of her suits, though Portia doubted that he knew it. It was navy blue with black leather lapels and fit his shape perfectly. When he was sober and cleaned up, Haymitch Abernathy was still quite the catch.

"You're not," Portia hummed. "It's just Effie loves me, so she won't be mad at all, will you?"

Effie walked up to them, her eyebrows raised. She wore a navy blue two-piece that matched Haymitch. Portia and Cinna had taken to making sure the two of them matched, as risky as it was. It wasn't necessarily unheard of, particularly after Victories. However, in Effie and Haymitch's case, it was a symbol to remind them that they were on the same team—which, frankly, they needed reminding of, and quite often.

Rebels or not, they still fought like cats and dogs.

"What'd you find, Portia?" asked Effie.

"Your calendar!" The squeal was back, and Cinna cringed

Effie stopped walking. "What calendar?"

" _The_ Calendar! The one that Pin-Up Magazine released that highlighted all your best work after you guys won. _You_ are a _babe_ ," Portia said, clearly excited.

Effie's mouth dropped open and she blushed crimson. " _Why_ would you… _where_ did you… _how_?"

"Honestly, Effie, complete sentences," snorted Haymitch, and her blue eyes flashed in his direction. He chuckled. "Relax, Princess. It's just a couple of pictures that probably show you how much you've aged. No biggie."

Effie scowled at him.

"Not quite," Portia grinned, flipping through it until she found the picture she was looking for. Then she turned the calendar to Haymitch. "What do you think of _this_?"

Haymitch's mouth sprung open. "Holy _shit_!" Portia and Cinna both laughed. Haymitch walked up to her and snatched the calendar, clearly stunned. He was eyeing it closely, taking in every detail, when suddenly it was taken out of his hand. "Effie!"

"That is quite enough," she scolded. "Portia, you had no business bringing this magazine in here."

Cinna knew his woman enough not to say I told you so, even if it was on the tip of his tongue.

"Why not? You're beautiful."

"I—" What she would have said next was interrupted when Haymitch took back that magazine and jetted off to his room. Effie stood there for a few moments, shocked out of her mind, until her face contorted with rage. "If I were you, I'd disappear. You do _not_ want to be in my line of fire."

Portia and Cinna scrambled to the elevator.

Effie took a deep breath and walked to Haymitch's room. She wanted to be diplomatic about this. She calmly knocked on his door, but was unsurprised when he didn't answer. She wasn't at all surprised when his door was locked.

"Haymitch," said Effie as calmly as possible, "if you don't open this door in the next _two_ seconds, you can kiss all your liquor goodbye." He still ignored her. "Haymitch, give me that _calendar_!"

After several attempts she finally marched to her bedroom, muttering darkly. She headed to her vanity, grabbed her set of keys, and marched back to Haymitch's room. She shoved the key into the door, unlocking it, and swung the door open.

"If you're quite finished," she said, her voice shaking with rage, "I'd like very much if you could—" Her words choked in her throat as his eyes left the calendar and rested on her. He was already on the last page she saw, and her heart dropped. Sighing she stepped inside of his room and closed the door. "All right. Say what it is you have to say."

"Why'd you quit modeling?" asked Haymitch, but there was a seriousness to his voice that had her heart hammering.

She stared at him for a few moments, and then made her way towards the bed and sat down next to him. "I think you already know the answer to that question. The pictures should have told you."

"You got sadder."

"I became unhappy," she corrected. She gently took the calendar away from him and flipped to the first page. It was when she'd been crowned Pin-Up Girl. She'd been hot, and young, only eighteen. "I was the youngest Pin-Up girl in history. I was so _proud_ of myself…."

Haymitch traced the picture. "You're beautiful." He grabbed the calendar and flipped through a few pages until he saw the picture that looked so drastically different than all the others. "What happened?"

"I experienced my first Games." She looked at the picture and shook her head. "I'll never forget that shoot. The photographer was so _angry_ at me. I couldn't smile. I'd just burst into tears. I ended up writing him a check to buy his silence. It took a few more shoots for me to get it. Another photographer took me to the side and told me I needed to be careful. I was the first model turned Escort. Panem was watching me twice as closely. I needed to play the part. I'm pretty sure she was the first Rebel I'd ever been in contact with in the Capitol, though I hadn't known it then."

Haymitch turned the page. "This shoot was after my second Games. I'd learned how to master my mask by then, but from that moment on, shoots started taking twice as long."

Effie grabbed the calendar again and flipped through until she found the one she was looking for. It was the last picture. "This shot a week after the 60th Hunger Games. I had my first break down. We lost Chriss and Almond that year."

He inhaled sharply. Those two hadn't even made it to the Cornucopia. The Careers had snapped their necks within seconds.

"That, mixed in with seeing your Games all week…." Effie shook her head. "Plus I had just broken it off with Seneca, and I'd just walked away from my modeling contract. I hated it, Haymitch. I couldn't keep _pretending_. Photographers claimed I was hard to work with, and I suspect they were right. I couldn't smile anymore. It was becoming so difficult to be happy…. So afterwards I used to practice in a mirror, until I had perfected Capitol Effie. And I just waited for an opportunity to present itself so that it'd all change."

Haymitch stayed silent, once again flipping through the calendar's pages. "I can see the changes."

"I know. I hate looking at the pictures. I hate that they even made this calendar. Anyone with half a brain can see how miserable I am. And then I hate the oldest pictures, because I was so naïve and stupid."

"You didn't know, Effie."

She grinned. "Look at you, defending me."

"Well you're defendable now." He glanced at the calendar. "Looks like you always were. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice."

"Yes, well, you were drunk out of your mind most of those years."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. He held up the calendar. "Wanna burn it?" The grin on his face was mischievous, his eyes glittering with mirth.

"Honestly, Haymitch, we're late enough." But she doubted very much she could hide the amusement in her voice.

"We're gonna be late regardless," said Haymitch, tossing the calendar behind him.

Effie stared at him. "Oh no. No, no, no. Absolutely not." Effie backed up as Haymitch advanced on her.

"Oh yes," he said with a grin.

When the door stopped her from backing up anymore he pulled her to him, his lips finding hers. "Seriously we don't have _time_ for this."

"There's always time, Princess." He nibbled on her ear.

"Cinna and Portia are going to think I killed you." He snorted, slipping his hand under her skirt. When he slid his finger inside of her she jerked. He stared at her, an eyebrow arched, both asking for permission and challenging her to say no. Taking a page out of his book she scowled. "Well get on with it then," she snapped.

She silenced his laughter with a kiss.

 _SPOILER NOTE:_ _ **STOP READING NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT MJ2 SPOILERS:**_ _JUST WROTE MY FIRST SPOILER FOR MOCKINGJAY 2! It'll be a missing scene where Effie gets the news that everyone is dead (after they've gone off to the Capitol and Caesar announces their deaths—it'll be before Coin makes her speech). It's gonna be about Effie remembering Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta. It's gonna be oh so sad, but oh so good!_

 _Also, I just got the prompt of all prompts from a Guest. I wish I could respond to them to let them know I'm SOOOOO excited!_


	113. The Arranged Marriage

" _You're killing me! The way haymitch proposed to Effie is very them. I loved it. Can you write a fic where Haymitch and Effie were forced into a arranged marriage by President snow right after haymitch wins his game? Snow saw it as punishment but they ended up falling in love.(maybe still have his girl still alive?) please?!" -_ _AVikingandhisHeartbrokenQueen_

 _THIS WAS A PREVIOUS PROMPT THAT I WROTE AS ITS OWN STORY, BUT I HAD ONLY DONE SO BECAUSE IT WAS SO LONG. I REALIZE NOW THAT I HAVE LONGER ONE-SHOTS THAN THIS, SO I DECIDED TO ADD IT TO THIS COLLECTION._

 **THE ARRANGED MARRIAGE**

 **Rated T**

THE YEAR BEFORE

For the past five years he had been dreading this day. The day she turned eighteen.

Haymitch would have to marry her this year.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR ONE

He had vowed to hate her from the beginning. After he had won his Games President Snow had given him two options for his rebellious actions: kill those closest to him, or marry Effie Trinket, Capitol model extraordinaire. Snow had left him no choice. He obviously didn't want his family dead, but to have had his choice of marriage taken from him, before he even knew if he even really ever wanted to get married, was torture.

She was the most annoying bitch he'd ever known. They lived together, in a large mansion in the Capitol, because there was no way President Snow would let them settle down in 12. He couldn't keep an eye on Haymitch in 12. So they lived in the center of the Capitol, not too far from the President's mansion.

He never got any peace.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR TWO

Aside from having to play husband, he also still had to play Mentor.

Effie became his Escort the same year they had gotten married.

He was never without her.

Unless they were in the house together.

They didn't sleep together.

They didn't even _fall_ asleep together.

She had learned to ignore the screams that woke her up in the middle of the night from his nightmares, and she had never asked about them again after he threw the knife at her.

She had managed to duck out of the way, but the fear in her eyes stayed with him.

He never apologized.

They stayed out of each other's way, which was fine with him, and the sadness in her eyes, the rejection… well she fucking deserved it.

She also deserved the tears every time one of their Tributes died.

She hadn't learned how to numb the pain.

He had.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR THREE

It was official. He was definitely an alcoholic. There were some days he did nothing but drink until he forgot his own name.

Effie didn't try to stop him, nor did she try to help him.

He'd have slit her throat if she had.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR FOUR

She found him at the table, empty bottles all around. He wasn't asleep like he normally was, which meant this wouldn't take as long as she thought.

She approached him and he looked at her with bloodshot eyes. "What is it?" he slurred.

She hesitated, briefly, and then spoke. "They want us to throw a party this year. In honor of the anniversary of your Games."

He stared at her for a long time, and without saying a word, grabbed a full bottle and stumbled off to his bedroom.

When they had the party, she used the excuse of drinking the blue drink as to why she kept throwing up all night.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR FIVE

She walked into the living room one day, dressed in a cobalt blue dress and dark silver hair. He was laying on the couch, a drink in his hand, a bottle on the table next to him.

Chaff was there as well, sitting in a chair.

She let them be.

There was nowhere for him to go, nowhere he needed to be.

Their Tributes were already dead.

Again.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR SIX

The first time he was ever arrested changed how he saw her.

Haymitch and Chaff had debated for hours who they would call—his Escort, or Effie, and in the end, they went with Chaff's Escort. She openly laughed in his face and hung up, so Haymitch ended up having to call Effie anyway.

It was the middle of the bloody night, but she answered.

He was too drunk to hear the concern in her voice, but he could appreciate how quickly she got there to bail them out.

She had insisted that Chaff stay at the house since it was closer than Headquarters, but Haymitch reminded her that they were all technically supposed to be staying at Headquarters. Since their Tributes were already dead, Effie had opted to go back home.

Tonight, though, she told the driver to take them to Headquarters.

She helped them both, as difficult as it was, and eventually, exhausted, she got them to the elevator. There was no way she'd be able to make two trips by stopping on Chaff's floor, so she led them both to 12's Penthouse Suite, leaving Chaff on the couch and helping Haymitch to his room.

The next morning, when Chaff woke up with a blanket covering him and a bucket next to him, he was shocked.

"Your wife is something else," Chaff had told Haymitch the next day.

"Don't call her that," snapped out Haymitch. "She's either my Escort, or Effie. She's not my wife."

Chaff stared at him for a long time. "She's different, you know. From the rest of 'em. In all my years of working with my Escort, she's never once made an effort to cover me up with a blanket."

Haymitch didn't comment, but he realized that his friend was right.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR SEVEN

Something was different with Effie. He wasn't quite sure what.

She stopped modeling.

The tabloids had said she was burned out. An exclusive interview with an anonymous source said that she had lost her edge, her spark.

The rumors didn't even bother her, or if they did, he didn't know.

She just stayed holed up in her room.

He hardly saw her.

In fact the most he saw her for the next few years was during the Games, where she wasn't his wife, but his Escort.

He drank so that he wouldn't worry about her.

He drank even more when he realized he was drinking not to worry about her.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR EIGHT

Their Tributes had actually shown promise this year.

And then they died at the Cornocupia.

Effie didn't even cry this time.

As he walked to the bar, she walked out of the Penthouse.

He didn't even think she blamed him anymore.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR NINE

Effie picked his girl's daughter's name.

It was funny that he still thought of her as his girl, even though she hadn't been for years now.

Nova.

He wasn't sure he had ever loved her. They had dated before he had gotten Reaped. He'd liked her, that was for sure, but by the time he had gotten home, Snow had made it clear that he would have an arranged marriage.

By the Victory Tour he had known it would be Effie.

He had spent as much time with Nova as he could, up until he was forced to marry.

Neither of them had cried when he had gotten on that train to the Capitol.

The next time he saw her, at the Reaping, she was married.

A year later she'd been pregnant.

Now fifteen years later, her daughter was going into the Arena, and he couldn't do anything to help her.

He wondered if Snow had had anything to do with it.

After her daughter's death—Juniper—Nova killed herself.

He charged that to Snow's death toll count.

He wondered when he stopped blaming Effie and started blaming Snow.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR TEN

She walked into the living room one day, and he knew she was nervous.

After ten years together, he knew her pretty well.

"Haymitch?" she called softly, and he took a long drink, because whatever this was required him to do so.

"What?"

"If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?"

He snorted. "No." She looked so pitiful at his answer that he rolled his eyes. "What is it, Princess?"

"I…" She glanced at the television screen, and then back at him, lowering her voice a little. "Do you think…? I mean… no Victor ever really has before, besides a few, so I figured….? I mean not just the women…. The men don't have any either."

He blinked at her. "Can you fucking speak English?"

The fact that she didn't complain about his language shocked him, and had him sitting up. She sat down next to him, still nervous, her back straight, her hands in her lap, clasped together so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

"Can you get me pills to make sure I don't get pregnant?" She said it all very fast, but he heard her. He heard her loud and clear.

He stared at her for several moments, these foreign feelings crawling through his blood and pumping its way to his heart and stomach. It felt like possessiveness, and jealousy, and other similar emotions, so that the longer he stared at her, the darker his scowl was.

He sat back, trying to get his emotions under control, because despite the fact that he didn't love her, they were _married_ , and he'd never broken their vows, because they mattered to him, even if he had been forced to marry a Capitol bitch.

He took another long drink from his bottle and then stood up.

"How many men?" he finally asked.

She stared at him. "What?"

"How many men have you slept with?" She stared at him, confused. "Has it been that many?"

"What? Of course not!"

He continued to stare at her, and when she still hadn't responded he said, " _Well_?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" His glare had her shrinking under his gaze. "Only Flux Ivory."

"How long?" She looked even more confused. "How fucking long have you been cheating on me?"

She looked stunned at first, and then she fixed him with a glare that his heart pumping.

She stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "I have _never_ broken our vows, Haymitch, despite the sham this marriage is." Her voice was cold, and had him stepping back a few feet. He'd felt her wrath before, and wasn't too keen on dealing with it tonight. "Flux Ivory was the man I lost my virginity to before I was told I had to marry you."

"Then why do you need anti-fertility pills? I mean we don't—"

"I know we don't, thank you." Her voice was ice, and he actually had to force himself not to shiver. "President Snow has been pressuring me to get pregnant for the last several years, and has made it quite clear that if it didn't happen soon that he'd kill my family. Since we _don't_ have sex, I thought maybe you knew how to get me some pills, so that when I can go to the doctor and they run tests, they can see I can't get pregnant."

He blinked at her. "Snow's been pressuring you to have kids?"

"Of course he has. What do you think the point of this marriage was? He wants us to reproduce so our child can go into the Arena."

He stood there, stunned, for several moments. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say? And it's not like you would have cared. I'm only asking now because I'm desperate. I realized Victors hardly ever had kids, and if anybody knew anything, it'd be you. I have to do something. I don't want children. I can't send my child into the Arena."

"Yah, then you'd know what it'd feel like to love a child who got picked. I bet it wouldn't be all 'Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor' if you picked your own child's name."

The slap she gave him stung his cheek for the rest of the night.

For the first time he couldn't drown out her crying with a bottle.

She pretended he didn't exist for a few days, but when she woke up one morning, there was a bottle of pills on her pillow.

Plan A, they were called.

 _So there's never a need for plan B_ , was its tagline.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR ELEVEN

The first time they slept in the same bed was a night when Effie came home drunk.

Drunk as a skunk drunk.

Could barely talk, let alone walk drunk.

He wasn't sure how she'd made it home drunk.

She made it to the front door before throwing up all over the floor, and he wasn't fairing too well himself. Still somehow he found the strength to clean her up—and her mess—and he carried her off to her room, where he stayed with her.

For the first time he didn't have nightmares.

When he woke up, his arms were around her.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR TWELVE

After twelve years he couldn't ignore her screams anymore.

One night he staggered his way into her room where he climbed into her bed and pulled her to him.

He couldn't keep pretending the Games didn't affect her.

She always woke up with their Tributes names on her lips.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR THIRTEEN

They kissed for the first time on their "anniversary"—not that he'd call it that. They were having an argument and she was just _so bloody fucking loud_ that he did the only thing he could do: shut her up with a kiss.

Turns out the number thirteen wasn't so unlucky after all.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR FOURTEEN

She was broken.

Just like him.

He realized it during an argument they were having, and she had grabbed her things, claiming she was leaving, and he wasn't quite finished with her yet, so he grabbed the strap of her purse, intending to pull her to him, only he didn't know his own strength.

The strap broke, and the purse fell, spilling all its contents.

Dozens of blue pills scattered across the floor.

They were only sleeping pills, but she was dependent on them nonetheless.

Addicts, both of them.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR FIFTEEN

Sometimes, when a nightmare was too bad, she'd come into his room.

He'd never remember, but in the morning, his knife would be in the corner, and they'd be wrapped around each other. He tried to deny it, but after awhile it was obvious: he slept better next to her.

And those kisses they used to share to shut each other up started turning into kisses of comfort.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR SIXTEEN

He slept with her for the first time— _really_ slept with her—the night he finally saw her without her wig and makeup.

She'd let her guard down.

He'd been stunned stupid at how beautiful she was. Pure blonde hair. Big blue eyes. And a body to die for— literally, he sincerely almost died. He couldn't breathe by the time he had slid out of her.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR SEVENTEEN

At some point they started staying in the same room. His room.

It was easier, they told themselves, and each other.

She stopped wearing the wigs and makeup around the house. He didn't ask her to, but he didn't have to.

She knew him.

And he knew her.

She was happier.

It made him happier, and he spent many nights watching her sleep, wondering what she had done to him.

He was falling for a Capitol, which he proved when he went and bought her a real wedding ring.

They threw away the one Snow had gotten for them.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR EIGHTEEN

Haymitch helped her to their room, where she immediately fell asleep.

He followed closely behind.

When he woke up, she was gone, and so was all of her stuff.

He panicked, until he heard her crying in her room.

The room she hadn't used in over a year.

She didn't touch him after that day.

He couldn't understand why she was upset. They had already told each other they didn't want kids. They knew what would happen if she got pregnant.

Those pills were supposed to ensure she didn't.

Out of all the 99% that didn't, she would be the 1% that did.

He wasn't sure what hurt him more: the top-secret abortion, or her distance.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR NINETEEN

She walked into his room on the train, closing the door softly behind her.

"It's been confirmed. Seneca's Head Gamekeeper this year."

Haymitch stared at her. "I think I can work with that."

Effie walked up to him, looking at the small cut on his face from when he fell off stage. "She's different," she said.

"That she is."

"This year will be different."

"That it will be."

When Katniss and Peeta won, they didn't celebrate. Not like they should have. Instead she turned to him.

"The time for pretending is over," she whispered fiercely. "If Katniss isn't careful, she'll await the same fate we did. We can't have that."

Haymitch just stared at her.

"I know you, Haymitch. I know you better than you think. Fix this. Talk to Chaff, Finnick, Johanna, whoever. There will be hell to pay for this. Fix it."

And then she was Capitol Effie again.

 **XxXxXx**

He took her to bed that night, on the train back to 12, for the first time since her abortion.

She was just as incredible, as wonderful, as perfect as he remembered.

He asked her why she'd never said anything, about being a Rebel, and she'd shrugged, telling him that she thought he wouldn't have really cared.

He frowned into the night, realizing she didn't know him as well as she thought.

He blamed himself, especially because he didn't know her all that well either.

 **XxXxXx**

YEAR TWENTY

The announcement of the Quarter Quell sent him over the edge, until Effie rushed home one day, in tears, talking about how Cinna had said Plutarch had said it was all part of some giant scheme, and that he wouldn't go back into the Arena.

It didn't stop the fear, though, because he'd grown to care for the kids.

They worked relentlessly, up until the very end, playing their cards right.

They did what they were supposed to, and had to depend on the others to play their part.

When he left her for 13, without even saying goodbye, he thought he was doing the right thing.

When he found out she'd been taken, he blamed no one but himself.

 **XxXxXx**

EPILOGUE

When he rescued her, he had to fight to keep her alive.

He stayed with her for as long as he could, until Paylor dismissed him back to 12 to take care of Katniss.

His betrayal had broken Effie more than the drinking, the cursing, the contempt.

She told him she wanted a divorce.

He hadn't lived in 12 for twenty years, but Victor's Village had remained remarkably unchanged.

He went back to drinking—this time he had different ghosts keeping him awake.

He raised geese as something to distract him when the liquor ran out.

He thought it was one of his geese pounding on the door one night, and he marched to back door, swinging it open, convinced he'd cook the bastard right then and there for disturbing his sleep, except he was greeted with air.

When the pounding started again he realized it was the front door.

The last thing he ever expected to see was Effie.

She stood there, suitcase in hand.

Her wedding ring was still on her hand.

It was the first thing he noticed, and his thumb absentmindedly brushed his own.

Without a word, he moved aside.


	114. Guys Night In

" _Ash and Finn have a play date and Haymitch is the babysitter!"- Much happier request, Happy5_

 **GUYS NIGHT IN**

 **Rated K**

Effie was going to kill him. He already knew she would. He should enjoy this moment for what it was, while he had the chance. He could blame the kids, because really it _was_ their fault, but she'd never hurt them. She'd never yell at them. Soft, that one was.

But she should know a thing or two about being cast under Ash's spell, so maybe she'd take pity on him and keep him alive. Maybe if he begged, and pleaded. Because he hadn't survived a Quarter Quell and a war just to die at the hands of a beautiful Capitol woman and her unnaturally sharp nails.

Or maybe she'd be too drunk to notice. That was least likely to happen, but he could hope, couldn't he? She was technically having a girls night out with Katniss, Johanna, and Annie. And 12 had just opened up that new restaurant downtown that served liquor from ten o'clock at night until two in the morning. Effie was a lightweight. A couple of shots in, she was a goner. And she was with Victors, and married to a Victor, which means she wouldn't have to drop a dime tonight. And she was with Johanna Mason, who could drink like a fish.

Maybe she'd be so drunk that she'd decide to stay at Katniss'.

And then she wouldn't see the mess he made.

Ash was a handful by himself, but add Finn O'dair to the mix…. It was a bloody disaster waiting to happen.

"Uncle Haymitch, Uncle Peeta, can we make a cave?" Finn had asked.

Before Haymitch could respond Peeta stiffened. He still had trigger words, though they knew most of them. Cave wouldn't have been on the list, though, because none of them would have ever had a reason to say it. Haymitch immediately stood in front of Peeta.

"Ash, Finn, I want you two to stay right here for a minute. Don't move," he said sternly, and then he was walking Peeta outside, who started taking deep breaths.

"I'm okay," gasped out Peeta, but Haymitch shook his head.

"Go on and head home," Haymitch said softly.

Peeta took a few more deep breaths. "No. I'm okay."

"No you're not."

"Haymitch, you can't handle them both by yourself. You'll start drinking again."

Haymitch scowled. "I resent that," he muttered. "Okay, why don't you go and make some cupcakes or something? If in that time, you haven't had a real flashback, you can come back."

Apparently he _had_ had a flashback, because he hadn't come back. And apparently Peeta was right about Haymitch not being able to handle Finn and Ash. For one, they made him feel old. He couldn't keep up with them. Second of all, they couldn't sit still if their lives depended on it.

And they'd come up to him, about an hour ago, asking _again_ if they could make a cave.

"How on earth am I supposed to build you a cave?" asked Haymitch.

"With blankets and things," Finn said. "Mom does it all the time. She just grabs the blankets from the bed and we sleep under them."

"Oh. You mean a tent. Or a fort."

"That's what I said," said Finn, and Haymitch rolled his eyes at the five-year old boy who so resembled his father.

"Okay. Ash, go grab your blankets off your bed." Ash ran upstairs as fast as his little six-year-old legs would allow, and then he came back with his blanket. Haymitch immediately knew that that blanket wasn't going to be big enough.

After an hour he had used every single blanket in the house, tied them together, and used the couch, the chairs from the table, and the walls to help hold up the blankets. Peeta came back halfway through, a plate of cookies in his hand, and quickly caught on to what he was doing.

"I'll be right back," Peeta told him, and left him alone with two kids high off of sugar. They were running around, playing some stupid game called Peackeepers and robbers that Finn had taught Ash while they left Haymitch to do all the work.

Peeta returned with a box of lights and more pillows and blankets. He also had a few more snacks in his hand.

"Are you crazy?" hissed Haymitch.

Peeta smiled. "Duh. Flashbacks, remember?"

Haymitch let out an annoyed sigh at Peeta's little joke. He didn't have _time_ for this. "We absolutely can _not_ give them anymore junk food. They're already animals."

"It's a sleepover, Haymitch. And we're building a fort."

" _I'm_ building a fort. _They're_ running around like maniacs, and you keep feeding them sugar."

"What's a tent without s'mores?"

" _Damn it_!"

"Ooh, Daddy said a bad word!" said Ash.

Haymitch scowled at his son. "Zip it, pipsqueak."

"I'm telling Mom!"

"You won't either."

"I won't if you let us have another cookie."

Haymitch stared at his son, his mouth open. "You little weasel," Haymitch said.

"Mommy says you shouldn't call people names. It's not proper."

"Your mother isn't here right now," snapped Haymitch. "That means I'm in charge. And I say I'm not about to be taken advantage of by my six-year-old. Now if you want to have fun and sleep in the tent, shut your pie hole."

" _Rude_ ," Ash said under his breath, and it was so much like his mother that Haymitch rolled his eyes in defeat. He was a momma's boy. If Effie ever got pregnant, he wanted a girl, so that he could have a little girl who adored him.

Haymitch muttered to himself while Peeta started entertaining them while _once again_ he was stuck doing all the work. He wrapped the lights around the blankets to give the tent a warm glow, and then crawled under the tent so that he could sit down the couch cushions and other pillows so that Ash and Finn wouldn't be on the hard ground. Afterwards he put down a blanket on top of the pillows—taking special care not to hit his head on the covers and make the whole thing come tumbling down.

"Okay it's ready," said Haymitch, breathing hard.

Finn and Ash yelled out a 'yay!' When Peeta chimed in Haymitch narrowed his eyes at him. Peeta ignored him and the three of them crawled under the tent. Haymitch walked towards the kitchen, missing the days he used to drink.

He could hear Peeta showing Ash and Finn how to make s'mores. Haymitch had a mind to go in there and check on them. Fire was dangerous, and Peeta was as much his son as Ash and Finn, but he knew Peeta could handle it.

After a few moments Ash was beside him, a messy s'more in his hand. "Here you go, Daddy. I made this one just for you."

Haymitch smiled at Ash. "Thank you, Tyke," said Haymitch, taking a bite.

"Will you come in the tent with us?"

Who could deny him? Spoiled rotten, this little boy. Every time Haymitch tried to talk him out of something, he remembered how smart Ash was. He got good grades, he normally always did what he was told, he kept his room clean. He was a good boy. So what if he got a little rowdy every time Finn visited?

Haymitch sighed. "Yah. I'll get in."

So they played games under the tent, until Peeta started to fall asleep, and he finally made his way back to his own place. Left alone with two kids damn near drunk with sugar, they wrestled each other for a while.

The kids won.

Haymitch didn't stand a chance against two people souped up on cookies and s'mores.

And Haymitch was old.

When they finally wore themselves out, Haymitch covered them up and crawled out the tent. That's when he got a good look at the mess he'd made.

Everything was everywhere.

It's when he came to the conclusion that Effie was definitely going to kill him.

He thought about what he should do with his last night alive, but before he could start, the door opened.

Dread filled his heart.

Effie stumbled in, being supported by Johanna. Her eyes brightened when she saw him.

"Brainless, grab your wife. She won't stop talking about boning you," Johanna said.

"Sh," whispered Haymitch, glancing at the kids as if he could see through the tent and walking up to Effie, who was swaying. Haymitch grabbed her. "How trashed is she?"

"She challenged me to a drinking game." Haymitch rolled his eyes. As brilliant as she was, Effie was truly an idiot. "I'm gonna head back to Katniss'. I'll see you tomorrow." She took a look around the living room. "Or maybe not."

Even Johanna knew he was done for.

Effie sighed. "So pretty in here," she mumbled, and Haymitch shook his head. Oh she was drunk all right.

"C'mon, Princess. Let's get you upstairs."

He supposed he'd spend his last night on earth taking care of his very drunk wife.

And he thought the kids were a handful.


	115. Thankful

_Don't think Panem celebrates Thanksgiving, but I can still write a Thanksgiving fic, can't I? And in the spirit of Thanksgiving I have a few shoutouts:_

 _To EVERYONE who was left a prompt: THANK YOU! (****_ _ **PS: I COULD DEF USE SOME CHRISTMAS PROMPTS! PLEASE LEAVE THEM IN A REVIEW!**_ _****)_

 _To Blackcat46, Bella184ever, Nkneeshaw, Karmicsamadi86, and ItsMeGetOverIt THANK YOU for being my most consistent Reviewers, it means the WORLD to me._

 _To every Guest who was Reviewed and/or left a prompt, you are appreciated._

 _Also, to every random person who's left a prompt/review, thanks. To the people who have Favorited or Followed the story, you're amazing. To all the READERS who haven't done ANY of these things, but just enjoy these stories: you are appreciated as well._

 _Lastly, to all the new-comers to the WONDERFUL couple that is Hayffie, welcome! A lot of my old Hayffie stories have been getting attention since Mockingjay 2 came out, Loosen Your Corset, Princess' traffic is up. I'd like to encourage all the new comers to no be afraid to leave a prompt IN A REVIEW._

 _You all are SO loved and appreciated, and I'm truly thankful and grateful._

 _-thamockingjayandpeeat_

 **THANKFUL**

 **Rated M- smut**

Effie crawled into his bed, not necessarily startling him awake, because he _knew_ her: he knew the way she breathed, the way she sighed, the way she talked. And he even knew the way she crawled, because she'd been crawling into his bed on random nights on and off for the past six months.

The fact that she practically slithered on top of him had his breath catching in his throat. _This_ he hadn't quite gotten used to. She'd been here for a year, having come to the children's wedding, and she'd been quite the actress for the kids, but _he knew her_ , and he'd convinced her to stay by simply telling her to.

She hadn't even argued, but she was a shell of the woman he'd used to know, and she'd barely talked to him—she'd barely _looked_ at him—until her screaming had shocked him awake, and he'd thundered into her room only to find her having a nightmare.

He took a page out of the kid's book and had climbed into bed with her, and she'd clung to him like a lifeline.

When he'd woken up she was gone, and he thought maybe she hated him, because before then she hadn't allowed him to touch her, and after her constant flinching he had stopped trying to.

She'd stayed at the kid's place all day, only to return for dinner, and had the nerve to _apologize_ for inconveniencing him, and did he hate her terribly? Maybe she should move in with the kids. He needed his rest, after all, and he'd done the only thing he could think of, remembering all those days in the Capitol: he kissed her to shut her the _hell_ up.

"You're not an inconvenience. Trust me, out of all of our years together, for _once_ , you're not inconveniencing me. If you need me, you know where to find me. No one expects you to heal alone."

He stalked off towards his bedroom then, but she'd called after him.

"You do. You heal alone."

He'd slowly turned her. "I tried to, Princess, but you never let me. You were _always_ there. At least until I left you." He mumbled the last part, but she cringed nonetheless. He left up to his room, and a few hours later, she was crawling in next to him.

She didn't always sleep with him. He decided to stop trying to guess when she would come to his room, even as he started to crave her like he craved his alcohol. He didn't think _she_ knew when she would come. Effie, who'd always had her schedules and points and purposes would act whimsical and just appear whenever she saw fit.

It drove him mental, but he always found it was worth it when she wrapped herself around him.

"I feel different today," she told him, her lips against his neck. He willed himself to stay calm, because her breath was warm against him, and _doing_ things to him, and he felt she was doing it on purpose, the little minx.

"Yah? How so?"

She looked at him, and the first thing he noticed was that she was _smiling_. He nearly smiled back at her, because he was relieved, quite relieved, because he hadn't known she could smile again, that she would smile again.

"Do you feel this?" He gaped as she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.

Well _that_ had all his blood going down south, and she didn't help matters at _all_ once she placed her hand on top of his chest.

"What exactly is it I'm supposed to be feeling, Princess?"

"My heart is beating." Oh. Her heart. Right. "I forgot what that meant, for a while, but I remember now. I could have died in that cell, Haymitch." He sucked in a harsh breath. "It's true, Haymitch. Some days I wish I _had_ died."

"Effie." His voice was laced with the quiet warning he always used whenever she talked like this.

"Just let me talk for a minute, okay? You know it hasn't been easy for me to come to grips with what happened. I was so _angry_ , and then I was sort of _numb_. I spent a lot of time locked away in my own head… you know that. I kept thinking about the kids I'd killed. I'd _deserved_ that cell, I told myself. But I'm _tired_ , Haymitch. I'm tired of the self-pity, and the hurt, and the pain. I think I am quite happy now."

He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"I've felt this way before, but then the guilt would get to me. What right do I have to be happy? All the blood on my hands…." She frowned for a second, her eyes going vacant, and Haymitch stiffened.

"Effie." He sat up, cupping her cheeks, and she blinked rapidly.

"Sorry," she whispered. She shook her head, as if to clear it, and he dropped his hands. "I know what roles I've played in the Games. I've come to terms with that. But Peeta and Katniss… they don't hate me. And you don't hate me anymore, either."

"I never hated you."

She smiled sadly at him. "I think your lack of alcohol is still affecting your memory," teased Effie. "You _did_ hate me, but it's okay. I deserved to be hated. But I'm not your Escort anymore. I'm not a Capitol citizen anymore, either. It feels good, to let it go. I'm more than happy. I'm actually… I'm actually quite thankful."

 _Thankful_?

"Everything that happened… was supposed to. I'm okay with that. I'm okay with the fact that I'm here, currently in bed with my schoolgirl crush who has _somehow_ become the man of my dreams, even if he is insufferable and annoying and a _slob_."

He gripped her waist, his heart pounding.

"Man of your dreams?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I think you are what I am most thankful for."

And she proved it by placing her lips firmly on his.

He responded probably way too eagerly, and she quickly backed away, her face flushed.

"You are not upset with me, are you?"

He snorted. "Do you hear me complainin'?" He reached up and placed his lips back on hers, his hands running up her back and up to her hair. She shivered at his touch, deepening the kiss, and she moaned softly.

"Do you have _any_ idea how long I've wanted to do this with you?" Effie mumbled against his lips as she gripped him.

"Since you were thirteen and I was crowned Victor?" He pushed her to the side and lowered down is pants. She wasted no time in climbing back on top of him.

"You are intolerable," and he smirked, sliding his hands under her nightdress. She stiffened slightly when he brushed a scar, but he ignored her and palmed her breasts. He figured she forgot about them too.

 _He_ forgot anything but her the minute she sunk down on him.

"Well _shit_ ," he grunted out.

She found for once she didn't mind his language. She smiled, arching her back and throwing her head towards the ceiling as she slowly adjusted to his length. After a few minutes she started to move, and he gripped her hips tightly, digging his nails into her flesh. She looked at him, gently biting her lip as the pleasure started to build.

She moaned softly, his name on her lips, and he thought it was the best thing he'd ever heard.

Suddenly he had a lot to be thankful for too.

…

Katniss and Peeta made their way into the house, calling out Haymitch and Effie's name. When no one answered Katniss stared at Peeta, worry evident in her eyes.

"Let's not panic yet," Peeta said softly. "Maybe they just went to Town and left a note."

"But they were supposed to meet us for breakfast. It's not like them to forget."

"Maybe Effie's having a bad day."

"Haymitch would have _said_ something." She looked around. "Maybe they finally killed each other."

Peeta sighed. "C'mon. Let's head upstairs."

They made their way upstairs and had just reached the top step when they heard a low moan. Katniss glanced at Peeta, a frown on her face. They'd never actually heard Haymitch having a nightmare before. He'd only been sober a few months, and Effie had somehow convinced him to start sleeping during the night, so he slept when they slept now.

When a whisper of "Haymitch," escaped out of Effie's mouth, Katniss lurched forward.

"Wait," Peeta said, grabbing her arm. "I don't think—"

"He's—" She was going to say he was hurting her, and Effie's moan nearly proved her point, except… something wasn't quite right.

Effie whimpered, and Peeta scrunched up his face.

"Haymitch," she moaned, and Haymitch followed with a grunt of his own.

"I think… I think they're fine," stated Peeta, blushing.

"Are they… they're not…." Katniss looked mortified, and the two of them fled down the stairs. "Peeta, please tell me they weren't just…." She couldn't even _say_ it.

"Do you think that's how he got her to stay?" panted Peeta once they reached their own house.

They'd never been privy to how Haymitch had convinced Effie to stay. She'd arrived on their wedding with her Escort smile, her Capitol attire, but her eyes had been vacant, and they found themselves quite relieved when Effie ended up staying.

He'd asked Haymitch once, after Effie had been there a month, how his Mentor had convinced their Escort to stay.

"I have my ways, boy," was all he had said, and Peeta hadn't thought much of it then, but now his mind wandered back to that conversation.

He found himself extremely thankful that Haymitch hadn't revealed the details to him


	116. May the Magic be Ever in Your Favor

_Eeek! Part two of my HP/HG crossover! This one takes place during the Order of the Phoenix! This title came from my own head, FYI. First "chapter" is District 9 and ¾ (90)._

 **MAY THE MAGIC BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR**

 **Rated T**

"Haymitch this is _not_ what I meant when I told you to be careful last year. This is _dangerous_." Haymitch just blinked as Effie Trinket paced the length of his living room, her purple silk robe floating behind her as she walked. He thought she might break her legs with how high those heels were, but she was a pro at wearing them apparently, and stayed upright, even with the cluttered bottles on his floor.

Haymitch sighed and sat back in his chair. He wasn't sure if he was more annoyed or amused at the fact that she was here, in his bloody house, lecturing him. It wasn't her first time here. There had been many occasions she'd barged in here, uninvited and unannounced, to get him ready for some Ministry shindig. He found that going along with her tended to shut her up, so he tended to listen to her because she was the most maddening nagger _ever_.

He'd never seen her quite like this, though. She was huffing and puffing, her hands on her hips or waving around in the air, making her shirt tighten in all the right places. She was clearly exasperated and fed up, and she wouldn't let him get a word in edge wise. She was on a rampage, and couldn't be silenced.

Finally having had enough he stood up. "Am I being fired or not?" he finally boomed out.

That had her quieting down, and she stopped walking to face him. "Don't be ridiculous. The Ministry doesn't know for sure that you wrote the article. They have absolutely no clue, and Xenophelius Lovegood won't betray you, of course."

Haymitch blinked at her. "If I'm not being fired, and there's no proof, why are you here?"

"Because you daft dimbo _I_ know you wrote it, and I want to know why you aren't taking my advice and _being careful_." She eyed him, her hands on her hips, a frown on her face. "You're not letting the magic world work out in your favor, you know, and when you behave badly, it reflects poorly on all of us."

He blinked at her. "Are you trying to set me up, Trinket?"

"You're such a fool, Haymitch. You could find the lost diadem of Ravenclaw and you'd _still_ be a bloody fool." Well that was certainly rude. "I know just as well as you know that no listening devices can get through. Your Mentor is Moody, and if he taught you anything, it was how to protect yourself. Why do you think I told you I'd meet you here? You have the safest establishment, other than Hogwarts and wherever the location of the Order of the Phoenix is." He kept his mouth shut. "Don't try to change the subject. I want to know why you wrote that article in the _Quibbler_ , and so soon after Harry Potter released his version of what happened to Cedric Diggory."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Haymitch. He was itching for a drink, but he hadn't had one since she'd shown up in his office earlier today, saying she desperately needed to talk to him after work, and off the clock, and that she'd be by at seven on the dot. He vowed that when she was around he'd be as sober as possible, because she was quick.

She glared at him for several moments. "You don't trust me," she finally said, her voice quiet.

He snorted. "No shit, Princess."

She eyed him for several moments. "Why not?"

His mouth dropped open. "Are you seriously asking me that? _Seriously_?" She kept quiet, and that was answer enough. "Because you're fucking _Ministry_ , that's why. I don't trust _any_ of your lot. You lie, you scheme, and your loyalty is twisted. You prefer to side with whoever has the most money. Your Minister is out for blood and he will stop at _nothing_ to get people on his side. Too bad it's the _wrong_ people. So _yes_ , I wrote that article, okay? And I can say that in full confidence that you won't have any proof other than your word that I did it."

"Didn't I say I already knew you wrote it? I could have turned you in but I didn't." She walked up to him. "There's a reason for that. I _believe_ you, Haymitch. I believe Dumbledore, and Harry. I stand with _you_. All I want is for you to be more careful, because Fudge _is_ out for blood. And this new Ministry hag he hired to be High Inquisitor… Dolores Umbridge—"

"You mean the woman who's now the head of _your_ office?"

"Yes, _her_. She's Fudge on steroids. I wouldn't be surprised if we come to find out she's right there in Voldemort's inner circle. She's evil." Haymitch blinked rapidly at the fact that Effie had just said Voldemort's name. He'd never heard anybody except Dumbledore say it. "All I want is for you to be _careful_ , Haymitch. People are disappearing. And worse, they're dying."

"That's the second time in a little less than a year that you've sounded as if you cared, Trinket."

"Damn you Haymitch, I _do_ care."

He froze as he realized she was serious. Too serious. He stared at her for a few minutes before finally turning away and heading towards his kitchen, intent on grabbing the largest bottle of Firewhiskey he owned. He poured himself a large glass and then drank most of its contents.

When he turned back around Effie was still in the same spot. He could see her from the kitchen. That's how small his apartment was.

He leaned back against the counter and stared at her. She'd discarded her witch's hat at some point, her dark red curls rivaling that of the Weasley's. They were Purebloods too, and he wondered if she and them were related, somewhere down the line. Figure she'd be a bloody redhead. Hot headed. Hot tempered.

Just plane ole _hot_.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she finally asked him, breaking his train of thought.

"I'm trying to think of the nicest way to kick you out of my house." He'd said it casually, calmly, but it had her back going up nonetheless.

"You think I'm playing you." It was something about the way she asked that his heart hammering.

"Aren't you?"

She shook her head. "You honestly know nothing about me, do you Haymitch?"

"I know you were probably a Hufflepuff, which means you're too loyal for your own good. You're Pureblood, which is why you look down on others who aren't, and you're a right pain in my ass _every bloody day_. You're probably much too young to even remember the First War, so you probably have no idea what's currently at stake, and you've probably never lost anyone close to you before. Does that about sum it up?"

She approached him, her heels clicking loudly against his tile, and he watched her, amused, as she stepped over his many bottles of Firewhiskey.

"How is it, in the name of Merlin, that you've known my for ten years, yet you don't know _anything_ about me?" It took every ounce of training for him not to show her that he was afraid. She looked lethal at the moment, and he couldn't understand why. "I was _not_ a Hufflepuff! The Sorting Hat seriously considered it, but in the end it decided to put me in Ravenclaw. Do you know what that means? It means my intelligence outweighs my loyalty, Haymitch. That means I'm not bloody stupid. Also, I'm only a few years younger than you, thank you very much. I very _much_ remember the First War, particularly since that war got my mother and father killed. My parents _were_ sympathetic to Voldemort, yes, but it was his own Death Eaters that killed them. I don't know why. Do you know how I was spared? A vanishing cabinet. I spent the last two years of my life as an underaged wizard in an _orphanage_. Do you want to know who was my source of comfort? Albus Dumbledore. I consider him very much like a father. He put in a good word for me and got me this job at the Ministry. And you know what? _This_ Ministry is _not_ the Ministry I signed up for."

He blinked at her for several moments. "I'm sorry. Was I supposed to believe that sob story?"

She slapped him so hard he didn't even see her take out her wand. He was caught complete off guard, which proved that his skills were seriously lacking. Moody would have him by the balls if he could see him now.

She stared at him, her face fierce, her eyes shining with tears, her wand pointed as his throat. He had to give her credit. Her hand wasn't trembling and those tears never fell. After a few moments she lowered her wand.

"I quit," she told him softly. "I can't do this with you anymore. It's what you've wanted for all these years right? To break me? Well you win, then, okay? I'm done. But just know I'm also denying your request to rejoin the Order of the Phoenix." She reached into her robe and pulled out his letter. "I'm telling Dumbledore you're not a good fit. Your judgment is skewed."

She shoved the letter to his chest and he was too stunned to move. It fluttered to the floor as she turned and walked away. She had reached his fireplace when she turned around to face him.

"You were right, you know. I am too loyal for my own good. I've been loyal to _you_ for too long, but you couldn't even see that." She shook her head. "Take care of yourself, Haymitch."

"Effie. Effie, wait." He called after her, but it was too late. He saw the flames erupt, and he was left very much alone.

He drank to hide the fact that he was definitely going to miss her, even if he refused to acknowledge the things she said.

 **XxXxXx**

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here." Haymitch nodded, staring at the wizard with the half-moon spectacles. "I'm here to discuss your letter." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I talked to Effie Trinket a few days ago. She seemed to disagree with reinstating you in the Order." Haymitch tensed. "I think… I'm going to overrule her."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Effie can't be overruled."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I actually think you're right. I asked for her to reconsider her position, and after a few days, she did. I'm quite relieved. She can be a force to be reckoned with when she's angry."

"Don't I know it," snorted Haymitch.

"With her blessing, I'd like to bring you back on. I think you could be useful. But you and Effie have to continue to work together in regards to the Ministry. She can relay what's going on to you in the Ministry and you two spending time together won't raise any suspicions. You, in turn, can relay what she tells you to the Order."

"Did… you run all this by her?"

"I did."

Haymitch stared at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Did she get her wand in knot?"

"Oh, she needed a bit of… persuading, but in the end she came around. She always does. You just have to know how to talk to her."

Haymitch sighed. "Or she just has to like you." Haymitch stood up. "She doesn't like me. She hates me."

"Ah, my dearest Haymitch," said Dumbledore, also standing. "I do believe that when it comes to love and hate, there is but a thin line. I'm sure it won't be too difficult to persuade her." Haymitch shook his head. "You don't believe me? Tell me, have you ever seen Effie's Patronus?"

"No."

"You're a lion if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore smiled. "Ask her to show you one day." Haymitch just blinked at the old wizard. "I'd have you leave by Floo or a Portkey, but Dolores Umbridge, along with the Ministry, is keeping a close eye on things. I know I risked having you Floo here to get here, but I think I'm going to have you Disapparate."

"I thought you could Apparate in and out of Hogwarts."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "You can't. But I find that being me… has its perks." He handed Haymitch a folder. "I want you to go straight home before you go to Effie's," and how Dumbledore knew he wanted to go to Effie's was beyond him. "This is high level information and I want you to go home and put it in a safe place first. Effie will still be home when you get there."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'll see you at the next meeting, Haymitch. Don't forget to ask Effie about that Patronus." Haymitch nodded and started to turn, intent on doing just that. "Oh and Haymitch?" He looked up at Dumbledore. "May the magic be ever in your favor."

 _REMINDER: CHRISTMAS PROMPTS PLEASE_


	117. Lost Loyalties

_To the Guest who requested more one-shots with the Victors, I couldn't respond to you to let you know that I'll do your prompt, just know there are several more to take place before yours, FYI, so please be patient =)_

 **LOST LOYALTIES**

 **Rated T for language**

Haymitch walked into the cafeteria, his eyes immediately finding Finnick, Plutarch, Beetee, Gale, and Katniss. He frowned when he didn't see her. It took him a few seconds to find her. She was sitting at a table in the back corner, all alone. She looked unhappy, he realized. She was eating, but there was a frown on her face.

Effie must have felt his stare, because at that moment she looked up. Her eyes locked with his, and he saw the sadness in them. She watched him until he made his way over to Finnick's table. She looked down, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Why isn't anyone sitting with Effie?" Haymitch said without preamble. Silence greeted his question as he stared at all of them. He scowled. "Okay, the rest of you get a pass, but Finnick? Katniss? You two _know_ her."

Finnick sighed. "It's not easy, Haymitch."

"Oh, really?"

"It's not black and white," agreed Plutarch.

"It looks pretty fucking black and white to me," he said angrily. "Has she helped plan this fucking rebellion or not?" They all stayed silent. "How the hell are you Victors? You're fucking cowards." Haymitch rested his eyes on Finnick. "She's had your back just as much as she's had mine, Finnick."

Finnick sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm not all here right now, Haymitch, okay? Annie is…." His voice trailed off for a few seconds. "Annie is gone. I'm just trying to get through each day. So I sit with people who know what I'm going through." As soon as he said the words he frowned. "Saying it aloud sounds even more fucked up. I didn't mean that."

"So Effie's spent every meal period since she got here by herself?" Nobody answered. "Wow." Haymitch grabbed his tray and walked over to Effie, who looked genuinely surprised to see him there. "Why didn't you tell me you're eating by yourself?"

Effie didn't answer. She just took a small bite, her eyes lowered.

They ate in silence for a while, Haymitch watching her.

"Here." Haymitch grabbed his plate and put his mashed potatoes on hers. She stared at him curiously. He rolled his eyes. "We've worked together for twenty years. I know damn well you hate cooked spinach. I'll eat your spinach, and you can have my potatoes."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Haymitch sighed and leaned forward. "Listen, Effie, I know you're probably still mad at me for bringing you here—"

She shook her head. "I'm not mad, Haymitch."

"You should be."

She smiled softly at him. "When have I ever been able to stay mad at you?" He didn't answer. She never could. "Besides, I should be thanking you. You saved me. You could have left me behind."

"No I couldn't have," he told her quietly.

At that moment Katniss and Finnick arrived.

"I'm sorry, are we interrupting?" grinned Finnick. Finnick sat down next to Haymitch while Katniss sat next to Effie. Katniss didn't even look at him. So she was still mad at him. Oh well.

"Of course not," Effie blushed, pretty much giving away that yes, they were interrupting.

"Actually you were. Why don't you go back the other table?"

The atmosphere changed.

"I'm sorry, Effie," Finnick said. "You're my friend. I shouldn't have left you alone."

She shook her head. "It's okay—"

"It's not," interrupted Finnick. "I've been stupid. Will you forgive me?"

Effie stared at him. "Of course I will."

"Me too, Effie," Katniss chimed in. "Not just for how I've acted in 13…. I mean overall. I didn't have a clue about your involvement."

"Katniss, you definitely don't have to apologize. I'll admit my feelings _were_ kind of hurt. We did have that moment, where we talked about Cinna, and I thought…. But that's neither here nor there. It's okay."

"You're welcome to sit with us anytime, you know," said Finnick. Effie smiled at him. At that moment Plutarch came up to him, jerking his head. Haymitch got up and walked over to him.

"Are you gonna go with Katniss to 12? She's set to leave after lunch."

"There's no way I could face it without a bottle, Plutarch. Send Gale to go with her."

"Okay," Plutarch said. "She'll need to be prepped. She's gonna make a propo."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "I'll talk to Effie, since apparently I'm the only person who will."

"It's Coin," whispered Plutarch. "She told us all to pretty much ignore her."

"And you listened, because you're all puppets," he spat. Plutarch scowled. "You need to figure out which side you're on, Plutarch. I'm anxious to know where your loyalties lie."

"Why can't you and Coin work together?"

"Because I don't like her."

"You know what I think? I think that you don't know how to let someone else be in charge."

"I don't take orders from anyone," Haymitch said.

"I get that. But it's not Coin versus Haymitch here. We're all one team."

"Tell that to Effie," Haymitch said coldly, and walked away. When he got back to the table he looked at Effie. "You need to prep Katniss before she heads to 12." Effie nodded, frowning. As Haymitch sat down Effie stood up, grabbing her tray.

"Listen, I don't know what the problem is between you two, but you two need to figure it out. We're a team." Effie stared at both Katniss and Haymitch, and then turned around and left, a frown on her face.

Haymitch stared after Effie, and then glanced at Plutarch. "Sometimes you don't care too much for the people you work with." With those words Haymitch got up, grabbing his own tray, and walked away.


	118. Of Crystals, Glass, & Reflections

_One of my absolute favorite stories that I've done. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The feel of this is much more of a story than a one-shot. Wrote this ages ago, and I'm glad I'm finally posting it!_

 **OF CRYSTALS, GLASS, AND REFLECTIONS**

 **Rated T**

With shaking hands Effie attempted to place the key in her door. It took her several tries, but finally she succeeded. She walked inside the apartment, wondering how it had remained remarkably the same when everything else was so different. She took a tentative step forward, looking around.

She would have never known Plutarch had been here, had he not shown up in her hospital room with a bag full of her things—the bag she'd left in his mansion. Everything was exactly as she had left it.

The only thing that had changed was the occupant.

She walked through the foyer, staring at the oversized pictures of herself. She had had some of her favorite pictures of herself blown up and framed to the wall. They were old pictures, all of them black and white, and they'd all been taken before she'd become an Escort.

She was happy in those pictures.

She had a lot of pretty things, she realized. Her apartment was bright and cheery—nothing like that cell she had been in for the past few months. The walls were neutral, but that was because the furniture stood out. Ebony wood floors against posh white furniture. Depending on the time of the year she'd change out her accessories colors, making sure they matched with the seasons. Right now her accents were tiffany blue: there were vases, marbles, flowers, paintings, pillows, and shams, all in the turquoise blue color.

They were out of season now, though.

There were crystals and mirrors everywhere: a crystal chandelier in the center of her living room, glittering the sun's reflection; a bowl full of tiffany blue and glass blue crystals; a large glass coffee table; a large accent mirror; two mirrored side tables.

Effie avoided her reflection, passing her bright kitchen, and headed towards her bedroom. The hallway was narrow, but long, and was filled with more pictures, this time of beautiful and fashionable women she had always admired: Audrey Hepburn, Jackie O, Dorothy Dandridge, Meryl Streep, Lupita Nyong'o, Lucille Ball, Michelle Obama, Maureen O'Hara, Lena Horne. Countless women who had made a difference in the world.

Women she had wanted to be like.

But not like this. She hadn't wanted it like this.

When Effie reached her bedroom she paused outside the closed door for several moments. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened her bedroom door. It was spacious, chic, sophisticated, and bright. The entire left wall was made of windows, from the ceiling to the floor. This was the reason she'd bought this apartment. For the view.

Not _this_ view. Not the view that still showed smoking buildings and destruction and _death_.

She had spent many years looking out this very window, in this very spot, wishing the Capitol was a different place, that someone would take Snow out and Panem would be free. She used to dream about democracy, and voting on a leader, or impeaching one who was unfit, and having rights.

But not like this.

She hadn't wanted it like this.

Effie looked up at the crystal chandelier. It used to be her absolute favorite thing about her room. It was over-the-top and pretty and shiny, and everything that Effie loved. It was custom made. She'd gone to Tiffany's and had helped the jewelers design this chandelier.

And now it showed a skewed version of her reflection.

Effie looked away and her eyes rested on her en suite bathroom. It too was large and spacious, and bright. There was a bay window next to the claw foot club. Plush rugs. Double sinks. Granite counter tops that matched her kitchen.

And a large mirror that was the size of the main wall.

Taking another deep breath Effie finally turned and looked at herself.

Her pink wig was crooked, but she suspected no one who had seen her cared. She'd been wearing the same wig for a week. Plutarch hadn't bought her any more options. She had never suspected that Katniss would shoot Coin, and would have to await trial. She had been forbidden to leave Plutarch's, so she was stuck wearing the same wig and clothes.

Her suit was slightly wrinkled, and hung off her body. She couldn't fit it anymore. The makeup had been carelessly applied, and she could just make out where her hands had started shaking, moments before the panic attack hit her.

Before she had to get Katniss prepped.

Effie stared at herself, stared at the woman in the clown suit.

That's what Haymitch used to call it.

 _Haymitch_.

The tears filled her eyes then, as she thought of her Mentor. The man that was so much more than a Mentor to her. The Mentor who she now knew saw her as more than an Escort. She'd waited fifteen years for him to notice that she'd changed, that she was _different_ , and it took him nearly losing her to really get it.

Fifteen years of waiting on him to get it, and when she'd finally had the chance to love him, she'd turned down his invitation.

Now she was here, all alone, and Haymitch was halfway back to 12, Katniss in tow.

She knew she hadn't made a mistake. She couldn't go back with him, not now. Not yet. One day, she figured. She'd waited for fifteen years. He could wait a few. For now, she needed to figure out who she was.

And as she stared at her reflection, she knew at the very least who she _wasn't_.

She _hated_ the woman she was looking at.

She shocked herself when her fist smashed into the mirror, but she didn't even really feel the pain. She kept hitting the mirror until pieces started to fall. She took both hands, balling them into fists, as the anger, the disgust, consumed her, and her knuckles were bloody.

When her wall mirror was finally destroyed she sunk down the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She ripped off her wig, throwing it across the room, vowing she'd never wear any of it again.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie wasn't sure how long she stayed on her bathroom floor. Days passed, for sure. She heard her phone ringing, but never bothered to get up and answer it. It wasn't like it'd be Haymitch. Sometimes she thought she heard a faint knocking on her door, but she couldn't tell if it was just her head or not. She'd had a headache for hours.

Eventually her thirst won out. She could care less about eating. She hadn't eaten properly in months. Haymitch had encouraged her to eat little portions, and to never overeat, but she felt like she'd never be able to eat again.

But the thirst? The desire for water? That was undeniable, and she'd been denied the ability to drink for far two long. Her body shaking, Effie finally slowly got up and made her way to the kitchen, discarding the heels before she did. She drank to her heart's content, and then burst into tears.

 **XxXxXx**

Time passes. Months. Some days she didn't leave her bed for hours. Other times weeks. She slipped in out of reality, spending a lot of days locked inside her own head.

She didn't eat.

She hardly slept.

When she did sleep she was plagued with nightmares.

She briefly thought about those little blue pills her mother had given her all those years ago. She was pretty sure she had a bottle in her medicine cabinet, but it seemed so far away. It wasn't worth her getting out of bed to fetch.

Nothing was worth getting out of bed for.

Her parents came around every now and then. Not often. She didn't want them to. She didn't want to be around them. They didn't know that she'd been tortured. They'd be horrified—not at what she'd gone through, but at whose side she was on.

Her parents didn't make much of an effort to get Effie to come around, and she was okay with that. She didn't want their pity. She didn't want to see their frowns and sorrowful faces. Nor did she want to hear her mother chastise her for moping around, looking the way she did.

The only useful thing they did was fix her bathroom mirror.

The phone still rang a lot. Oftentimes it went unanswered. When she did find the strength to answer, she found herself talking to Annie and Johanna. Johanna surprised her the most. They had never really gotten along, but they'd shared a cell for a while. She put on a brave front for a while, but if anyone understood her, it was them, even if her pain couldn't amount to theirs.

Every time she talked to Annie she was reminded that Finnick hadn't made it, but he'd left them all Finn.

She always said she'd visit, but it was an empty promise. They knew it, and she knew it.

One day Effie felt the urge to get out of bed. She wasn't sure what happened. She literally woke up one morning, the sun shining brightly, and decided that today was going to be different.

The first thing she did was go to the bathroom. Her new mirror—smaller, a true vanity mirror—showed a woman with haunted eyes, matted hair, and chapped lips. She drew herself a bath, staying immersed in the water until she resembled a prune. She combed and washed her hair until her mane resembled the soft curls she used to know.

She got out of the tub, dried herself off, and looked at herself again. She had scars. Lots of scars. Most of them faded, but some of them remained. Even more would fade over time, but some of them were permanent. She still looked unhealthy. Her cheeks were hallow, her skin slightly yellow. Her hands shook as she continued brushing her hair.

One hundred strokes, Mother always said.

She willed herself on.

She slipped on her robe and walked to her computer and ordered several thousand dollars worth of new clothes that'd be delivered to her doorstep tomorrow.

Afterwards she made herself a salad, briefly wondering who the hell had been buying her groceries. She thought she remembered Plutarch coming in and out every now and then, but who the hell knew? Tomorrow she would go the grocery store and get the things she liked.

After lunch she made her way to her walk-in closet and looked around. So many dresses and wigs and jewelry. It overwhelmed her, and she could feel herself starting to slip away, so she left, closing the door behind her. She'd try again tomorrow.

When her new clothes arrived she put all of them in her guest bedroom. Then she attempted to clean out her closet again, using the boxes that her new clothes came in. She had only finished a third of her closet when the need for food forced her to stop. She showered and dressed in one of the new, simple dresses she had ordered, grabbed a pair of designer shades, and slipped on a pair of heels—some things would never change—and left her apartment for the first time in nine months.

She could feel the stares as she walked, and they made her uncomfortable. Some times she'd sneak into an alley and cry until there were no more tears.

But as the months passed, she found she didn't really care all that much anymore.

When she finally finished cleaning out her closet, late one night, she took a deep breath, and smiled. The shelter would have another several dozen boxes donated to them tomorrow.

She wiped her hands on her dress and made her way to the bathroom. Like she did every night, she stared at herself in the mirror. She smiled at herself, but it was still forced. Her eyes were still sorrowful.

She wad disappointed. She just knew once she had gotten rid of all her old things she'd be happy again.

She was _counting_ on happy, damn it.

But she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy because she was lonely.

Suddenly she felt like a fool.

 **XxXxXx**

She signed the check and handed it to her landlord.

"It's been a pleasure knowing you, Miss Trinket," he said. "If you ever want to come back home, you'll always have a place here."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I won't be back. Take care of yourself, Rafio." He grabbed the door for her, and Effie smiled her thank you, her bags in hand, and handed them to the cab driver.

The train ride took longer than she remembered, but when she arrived, she got off with shaking legs. It was late, the train station mostly empty, particularly since it was raining softly.

She didn't care.

She walked the familiar path, glancing around. There was still a lot of destruction, but a lot had changed, too. There were lots of new buildings, and a lot of reconstruction going on.

She'd take the time to look at it all, but not now.

When she approached Victor's Village she remembered the last time she was here.

The day of the Reaping.

She'd walked through these gates scared out of her mind that Haymitch would be going back in that Arena.

Taking a deep breath she walked on, noticing that some of the houses had lights on. She saw that Katniss' house was dark, but Peeta's house was bright, and she wondered what that meant.

She didn't have time to dwell on it. At that moment she noticed the silhouette of a man that was unmistakably Haymitch. He was sitting on his front porch, a bottle in his hand, rocking back and forth in his rocking chair.

She slowly approached him, wondering how he'd react to her showing up unexpectedly like this.

She stood at his steps and could tell at once that his eyes were closed.

He hadn't yet noticed her.

It wasn't until he'd raised his bottle to his lips, a few moments later, that his eyes finally fluttered open.

They immediately rested on her.

He couldn't hide his shock. The liquor fell to the ground, shattering, and he stood up so quickly that Effie never even saw him move.

"Hello, Haymitch," she said, and she was proud of herself for her voice staying level and unwavering.

He stood there, stock still, staring at her for several moments, his mouth open. A gust of wind blew and she could smell the fumes from his broken bottle.

"Effie," he finally whispered, and his eyes roamed over her, lingering on her bags. He stepped down and faced her, and Effie kept his gaze, even as she felt herself blushing. "I didn't know you were coming. The kids didn't say…." He scrunched up his face. "Or maybe they did. I dunno. Hazy day."

"They don't know I'm here."

"How long you visiting?"

Effie took a deep breath. "I'm not." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I'm staying," she said softly.

The emotions swirling around in his Seam grey eyes were evident. "It's about bloody time, Princess," whispered Haymitch, pulling her to him.

He tasted like liquor, but also like strength, and second chances, and _healing_.

It started to rain even harder then, and it was like something out of a movie, the ones she used to watch as a teenaged girl that made her sigh with content and envy, because neither of them even cared. Before long they were soaked, but it didn't matter. Effie dropped her bags, wrapping her arms around Haymitch's neck, and he picked her up, lifting her off the ground, Effie's legs bending behind her.

When he finally put her down and they broke apart they were dripping wet. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing the side of her mouth.

She wasn't sure if the love in his eyes was just a reflection of her love for him, but she followed him inside nonetheless.


	119. Dribble Drabble

_A collection of drabbles that I have in my head that were way too short to become one-shots. They will_ _vary in ratings per story, but overall I'm putting K. These contain a couple of prompt, one from a Guest: "_ _Prompt: Hayffie first kiss, pre-mj." And another from It's Me, Get Over It: Effie laments with Haymitch (or Peeta) that she knows Katniss doesn't care for her anywhere near as much as Effie cares for Katniss. She has nothing but a resigned acceptance about what she means to Katniss. I don't mind if its refuted or agreed." Prompts will be underlined so you know which ones they are._

 **DRIBBLE DRABBLES**

 **Rated K**

* * *

 _ **REVELATION**_

 **Rated K**

Even though she'd put on a good front with Peeta, Effie was still mentally exhausted. Being around Katniss Everdeen could do that to a person. She _cared_ about the girl, sure, but did she necessarily _like_ her? It seemed to Effie that Katniss took special care to make sure people didn't like her.

She still had a slight headache, even if her session with Peeta had gone much better. Such a good boy, he was, and handsome too. He was well behaved, took direction well, and didn't drive her up a wall.

Or to the nearest bar.

Taking a page out of Haymitch's book, Effie headed towards the bar cart as soon as their Tributes were off to their Interviews.

Haymitch came up next to her, pouring himself a drink as well.

"I take it your session with Katniss was just as bad as mine?" he snarled, throwing back the contents of his glass.

"It was worse," said Effie, pouring another glass. "She's… I don't like to speak ill of children but she's… _insufferable_. Pig-headed. A know-it-all. Impatient. A royal pain in the—"

"Ass is the word you're looking for, Princess."

" _Yes_ ," Effie hissed. She took another drink. "I have a headache. She's _impossible_. She's—" Effie clamped her mouth shut as she stared at her Mentor. He arched an eyebrow as she stepped back, looking him over. "Oh my God. Haymitch she's… she's _you_."

His mouth dropped open. "Okay, that's harsh, even for you."

"She _is_. She's you with _boobs_." Effie closed her eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "I can't do this. I can _not_ handle _two_ Haymitch's."

"That girl and I are _nothing_ alike. She's impossible to talk to. She has a nasty temper. She's rude and arrogant. And I'm really just helping your case, aren't I?"

"I'm quitting. There was absolutely _nothing_ in the contract stating I had to deal with two hardheaded people from the Seam. I refuse. One Haymitch Abernathy is _enough_ thank you very much." She slammed her drink down and Haymitch stared after her, slightly amused.

He wondered if she had any clue how fondly she'd stated all those facts.

He bet she didn't mind that Katniss was like him all that much.

And _he_ didn't mind that _she_ didn't mind.

* * *

 _ **THE MILLION-DOLLAR QUESTION**_

 **Rated T**

Effie was surely on her way to getting very drunk. She knew she shouldn't be, but she was, so there's that. She took another swallow of the white liquor, no longer grimacing at the taste.

She was just about to pour herself another glass when the elevator dinged. She glanced up and saw four figures—two Haymitch's and two Cinna's. She nearly fainted at the thought of two Haymitch's, but then she shook her head, and suddenly there were only two people.

"Where's Portia?" asked Effie, hoping her voice was steady.

"She had to stay with Peeta," Cinna responded grimly. "He lost his leg."

Effie nodded, taking another sip. "Not surprised." She pictured that cut and frowned. Then she turned back to her Mentor and stylist. "Where have you two been?"

"Fighting with the surgeons," Haymitch said, his voice clipped. He walked over to the bar and grabbed a glass, and then sat down next to Effie and grabbed the bottle. He arched an eyebrow. "Thirsty much?"

"Oh you can't talk, you insufferable drunk." She took another sip and Haymitch snorted.

"I don't know whether I'm more hungry or tired," commented Cinna.

"Sit down and relax. I'll fix you a plate." Effie slowly stood up, the room tilting slightly. She looked down at her heels and frowned. Without really thinking about it she slid out of them and headed towards the kitchen, intent on fixing a plate for Cinna.

"Thank you, Effie," said Cinna with a smile as she handed him a plate and a cup. "You're awfully talented to be able to serve a plate while drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Effie lied. "And it's only proper for a woman to bring a man a plate."

Cinna grinned. "Why aren't you married, Effie?"

She tensed, and didn't immediately meet his eye. Instead she poured herself another glass and took a sip before answering. "That's the million-dollar question isn't it?" She paused and then looked at Cinna. "Because there aren't men like you in the Capitol."

Haymitch's head jerked to Effie, but she ignored him.

"Men like me? Do tell?" Cinna took a sip of his drink, his eyes dancing.

"I don't know. Clever. Selfless. Kind. _Real_. Genuine. It's all smoke and mirrors in the Capitol, right?" She stared off into space, taking an absentminded sip, and missed the way Haymitch's eyes narrowed at her.

"I know somebody like me," Cinna told her. Effie arched an eyebrow. "His name's Haymitch."

Haymitch glared at Cinna and the stylist burst out laughing, until he saw the way Effie shot back the rest of her drink.

"Stop teasing me, Cinna," said Effie, slamming her glass down on the table.

"What? Haymitch and I have a lot in common." Effie poured another glass and Cinna reached across and took it from her. "Though I think you two might have a lot more in common than I thought."

Effie took a deep breath and stood up, swaying slightly. Haymitch's hand shot out automatically, steadying her.

"I think you are much better at getting drunk than I am," Effie told Haymitch.

"No shit, Princess," smirked Haymitch. When she didn't correct his language he frowned. "What's wrong?"

She took another deep breath. "I think the million-dollar question is what's _right_?" Then she slowly made her way to her room.

Cinna counted to ten, and sure enough, Haymitch got up, making a thousand excuses about being tired, only it wasn't sunrise yet, so Cinna wasn't at all surprised when Portia finally came back, and they made their way to their room, that Haymitch's door was slightly ajar and his room empty.

They had _one_ million-dollar question answered: she wasn't married because she was in love with Haymitch.

* * *

 _ **NIGHTTIME RITUAL**_

 **Rated K**

"I think I'm going to head off to bed," Effie told Haymitch, rising up off the couch.

"Okay. I'll be up in a minute," said Haymitch without looking up from his book.

She bent down and kissed his forehead. "Don't stay up too late." Then she ruffled his hair and made her way upstairs. She took off her clothes and changed into one of Haymitch's shirt she'd stolen, and then hung up the day's clothes. Exhausted she climbed into bed, bypassing her side, and snuggled onto Haymitch's side, taking a deep breath.

His side smelled like him.

When he found her an hour later she was where she always was when she went to bed first: snuggled up on his side, the cover covering up half of her body. Her hair was splayed across the pillow, its red hue clashing dramatically against the white of the pillowcase.

Haymitch took off his shirt, leaving his sweats on, and climbed into bed. Effie immediately woke up, pulling the covers back so that he could get in. She scooted over, but not by much, and once he was settled in she buried her face in his chest, his hands wrapping around her waist.

"Night, Princess," he whispered.

Effie smiled in the dark. "Goodnight, Haymitch."

* * *

 _ **HALLOWEEN NIGHT**_

 **Rated T**

Haymitch couldn't decide if he should drool or scowl. On one hand, the man in him was _very_ pleased at her outfit. It was red and daring and left little to the imagination. On the other hand the husband in him frowned, because it was red and daring and left little to the imagination.

 _Mine_ , he heard himself thinking, so he settled on the scowl.

"You are _not_ leaving the house like that," Haymitch stated immediately, and Peeta and Katniss both snorted. Ash laughed, but they weren't sure at what.

Effie arched an eyebrow as she walked down their stairs. "Oh really?"

"I'm serious," said Haymitch. "I forbid you to walk around 12 like that."

"Really? Honestly, _you_ suggested the Jessica Rabbit costume."

"That was before I knew it looked like lingerie. It looks like the hot little number you wore last Christmas."

" _Seriously_?" blushed Katniss. "That was _so_ unnecessary."

"What? It's true." Katniss made a face and Haymitch smirked. "This isn't worse than when I had to pick up your birth control prescription, so suck it up."

Katniss' mouth dropped open. "You _promised_ you'd never mention that."

At that moment the doorbell rang. "Oh! Our first trick-or-treaters," Effie exclaimed. She rushed to the door, grabbing the plastic pumpkin full of candy. She opened the door, a smile on her face.

They all saw the way she tensed, and they were immediately on alert. Haymitch felt his heart give out yet somehow he beat Katniss and Peeta to the door, though they were closer.

They all just stared, stunned.

"Hello," the little girl said. "Are the odds in my favor?" She was talking about the candy, he knew. Halloween had been around long enough for kids to know sometimes some families gave out shitty ass candy, but this… it was unacceptable.

She was dressed as Effie.

Effie the Escort.

The girl's mother was behind her, and as soon as she caught Haymitch's eyes, her smile faltered. He didn't know who she was. She hadn't lived in 12 before, but with her brown hair and brown eyes she looked like she could be from the District 1 or 2.

"Effie? _Effie_?" Peeta's voice brought him back, and he turned. Effie had gone pale, and the pumpkin fell out of her hands. She immediately started shaking. Haymitch stood there for a second, frozen.

"Mom? Mom what's wrong?" Ash's voice brought him back to reality.

"I want you guys to go ahead and take Ash out," Haymitch said immediately. "I'll take care of Effie." He ushered them out of the door and they all turned back to the mystery woman, and the little girl who was frowning now. "You two will _fucking_ pay for this."

"It's a _costume_ , Haymitch," the woman stated. Her voice told him District 1. He should have known. "Halloween is all about dressing up as scary things, and—"

"You better hope she's okay, or I'm pressing charges. I will have you removed from this District."

"You can't do that."

Haymitch tilted his head, and was about to respond when Katniss spoke.

"He won't be fighting this alone. If I were you I'd take your little brat and get home and start packing. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

The woman looked scandalized.

"I'd listen to them," stated Peeta. "When the two of them want something, it happens."

"This is _ridiculous_ —"

"Go ahead and take Ash. I'll pick him up tomorrow, okay?" He was surprised his voice was level as he talked to Katniss and Peeta. They nodded.

"I wanna stay with Mom," Ash said, his voice nearly hysterical.

"No. Don't argue, Ash, okay? Let Daddy take care of Mommy."

He wasn't happy about it, and neither were Katniss and Peeta, but finally they left.

Haymitch slammed the door and turned back to Effie. "Princess, _breathe_." He grabbed her cheeks and looked in her eyes. She was gone, he knew, and his heart stopped. Haymitch led her to the couch and sat her down and immediately walked to the kitchen and made her some warm tea, wishing to God he had a fucking bottle.

It'd been a while since she'd had a relapse.

His hands were shaking as he handed her the cup of tea, and he frowned when she just stared ahead, her hands folded in her lap. He bought the tea to her lips but to no avail.

"Please, don't do this, Effie. It was just a stupid costume." He sat down next to her and pulled her to him, caressing her back. He gently kissed her forehead, reminding himself to breathe. Just breathe. She'd be okay. She was always okay. "You're not that Effie anymore. You never really were. You're okay, Princess. I need you to be okay."

It wasn't until he'd started to doze off, in the same spot on the couch, when he felt her move. His breath quickened when he realized she was moving against him, her hands gripping his arms.

"Haymitch," she whispered, and then she was underneath him, and he was moving inside of her, relieved. He was gentle with her—he always was after—and when they were finished she cried on top of him.

"Don't do this to yourself, Princess. Please. You know I hate to see you cry."

It took another time inside her to get her to calm down, and she finally did once he convinced her that he didn't hate her.

Haymitch figured as he rocked her to sleep that Halloween night was more trouble than it was worth.

* * *

 _ **FIRST KISS**_

 **Rated K**

"Do you remember our first kiss?" Effie asked Haymitch as they lay in bed.

He snorted. "I remember our first kiss when I was sober. I remember our first kiss after I found out you were a Rebel. I remember our first kiss after we got married. But our _real_ first kiss?" He shook his head. "I don't remember much of anything those first few years."

Effie stayed silent for several moments, until it dawned on Haymitch that she might have had a real, true, genuine reason for asking. He shifted so that he could look at her, his eyes tracing her face. They were older now, but she was still damned beautiful.

"Do you remember it?" asked Haymitch.

"Yes," Effie replied softly. "You were definitely drunk. Drunk out of your mind. I'd dreamt about kissing you since I was thirteen years old, but I didn't want it like that."

Haymitch frowned. "What happened?"

"Everything happened. It was incredible. It took my breath away." She stared back at him, her Capitol eyes looking into his Seam grey ones. "I fell in love with you that day, even if you were asleep by the time I pulled away."

He snorted again. "No I wasn't."

She smiled. "Okay, you weren't. But it was a damned good kiss. It made my toes curl. You moaned, you know, and it sent shivers down my spine. I remember waiting for the next morning, wondering if you'd felt it too, but you just continued to look at me with the same quiet disdain that you normally did."

He frowned and traced her lips with his finger.

"It wasn't a bad first kiss," Effie said. "But I'm glad it wasn't our last."

He pulled her closer to him. "Me too, Princess."

* * *

 _ **THE WOES OF EFFIE TRINKET**_

 **Rated T (***Title taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix—the Woes of Mrs. Weasley).**

Haymitch nibbled on Effie's neck, ignoring the annoyed sigh she let out. She'd been in a funk for the past few hours, and he was determined to make her forget about her problems, whatever they were, if only for a little while.

She wasn't making it easy.

She'd never been so distracted before, and he wondered, briefly, it was him. He knew she was angry with him. He'd been drinking—a lot—since he'd gotten back home, but he couldn't bloody _help it_.

She'd poured out most of the liquor on the train as she made her way to 12, so that by the time Haymitch was heading to the Capitol for their _Victory Tour_ , he had been distraught with the thought of no liquor. But he'd known her, and he'd packed a few things in his suitcase, only she proved that she knew him as well, and she had poured that out too. And she wouldn't and couldn't be reasoned with. He'd damn near _begged_ her not to do it, even going as far as threatening to withhold sex from her.

She'd laughed in his face about that one, and now he knew why.

He couldn't stay away from her.

She knew it, and he knew it.

She was useful, he realized, and a bloody incredible distraction, if she _stopped ignoring him_ and ruining the mood with her exasperated sighs.

" _What_ is it, Princess?" snarled Haymitch. "Normally you're just as eager as I am, and face it, without the liquor, I _need_ you." He was practically whining, but he sobered up as he noticed the tears in Effie's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Katniss _hates_ me," she sniffed.

Haymitch blinked at her. "Are you _serious_ right now? I'm about to give you the best dick of your life, and all you can think about is a stubborn girl who has a nasty attitude?" He climbed back on top of her, his lips finding its way to her favorite spot, but she shrugged him off.

"It hurts, Haymitch. She has no idea, really, how scared I am for her. For both of them. I want her to like me."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "You guys aren't in bloody _school_ ," he spat.

"I care about them, okay? You and I… we've worked hard to keep people at a distance, and then here they come…. I was so nervous when they stopped reading their cue cards. I was so afraid, Haymitch. When I heard those gunshots…."

Haymitch sighed, shifting so that he was lying next to her. "I know," said Haymitch. "If it makes you feel any better, Peeta hates me. He found out I'd only been sending Katniss Sponsors last year and… he's not too happy with me either."

"That's different. Peeta feels betrayed, and a little left out. You and Katniss have this… _bond_. I don't know if it's a Seam thing, a grey-eyed thing, or what, but… I find myself envying it every now and then myself." Haymitch snorted. "But Katniss… Katniss just thinks I'm stupid and shallow, and it hurts."

"She doesn't know you, Princess. I thought the same thing, up until a few years ago, didn't I?" He turned her so that she was facing him. "She'll see the real you one day. You'll have to reveal it to her, because she won't figure it out on her own. I didn't."

"Impossible. Both of you." She was cross at him now, and he realized he probably wasn't going to get any sex tonight.

"It was our loss, okay?" He played with her hair to keep himself from looking at her. "If it makes you feel any better, I really feel bad for being so blind. You're incredible."

Effie blinked rapidly. "You're just trying to turn me on," pouted Effie.

He shook his head. "Not true. I'm being honest. If it so happens to turn you on, then so be it."

She laughed, bringing her face to his. She kissed him, realizing this was one of the times she wished she could tell him she loved him.

That was another woe, for another day.

* * *

 _ **LETTING THE ARROW FLY (A/N FAVORITE DRABBLE- INSPIRED FROM THE MOVIE, BUT**_ **NOT** ** _A SPOILER, SINCE IT'S BASED ON THE BOOK)_**

 **Rated T**

He watched her walk, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Everything they'd ever done depended on this moment. For the past twenty-five years he'd been waiting for this to happen, and a part of him wished it were him pulling the arrow.

All eyes were glued to Katniss, the crowd quieting down instantly at her appearance. She looked fierce, and fearless, and he found himself partially proud of her.

He hoped this moment didn't destroy her.

He looked at her, like everyone else in the crowd was doing, and thought about how much weight she had on her shoulders. They were all counting on her, not just her friends and family, not even just Panem. Those who had died for this cause were counting on her too. Those who had suffered.

Cinna.

Portia.

Finnick.

Chaff.

Mags.

Effie.

He tried not to think of Effie. Effie, who he had cornered and told to immediately head back to Plutarch's as soon as Katniss' arrow flew.

Things were going to get hectic, he knew, especially if Katniss was going to do what he thought she was going to do. He'd grabbed Effie and told her sternly that no matter what happens, no matter what Katniss does, she needed to head to Plutarch's and lock herself in the room, _no questions asked_.

She'd seemed to understand that something big was about to happen, even if she was dazed and confused.

He'd stared into those vacant blue eyes, the eyes that used to be lit with a fire that he could never match, though they had always provided their own spark into his, trying to will her to understand, and she had nodded.

He kept his eye on Effie as the crowd quieted down, but she seemed to only have eyes for Katniss. So did everyone else. Haymitch suspected he probably should have been focusing too, but he'd spent too much damn time _not_ focusing on Effie Trinket.

It was dangerous, having her here, but Coin was vindictive.

Still, she'd get hers, he knew.

That thought had him glancing away from Effie, in her gold wig and tattered dress, and focusing on their Mockingjay. He held his breath, blood still pounding in his ears.

This was it.

She was fierce, he realized. Fiercer than he'd ever given her credit for, and he hoped they'd all survive this when it was over. He kept a close eye on her, saw the way she drew back her bow, Snow her target.

He wasn't sure anyone else would catch it beforehand. He only caught it because he'd been watching her bow, not her, wondering if his assumption had been correct.

The second it shifted, Haymitch held his breath, his mind immediately going to Effie. He didn't have time to glance at her again. He wanted to will her to safety, but she'd have to make it there herself.

 _Get to Plutarch's_ , he thought, hoping she still had the ability to hear his thoughts.

He wouldn't have time to shield Effie. He had the unfortunate responsibility of always having to choose the Mockingjay over her, and it was no different in this moment, right here, right now, as she let her arrow fly through Coin's skull.


	120. Brown Liquor and Blue Pills

_Warning—angst. Don't know WHERE this came from, but rating it M due to sensitive material_

 **BROWN LIQUOR AND BLUE PILLS**

 **Rated M—substance abuse**

"What are you doing?" The voice startled her, and she gasped, nearly dropping the object in her hand down his bathroom sink. She took in the frown on his face as his eyes stared at the bottle of pills. When he locked eyes with her again, there was betrayal evident in his eyes.

"It's not what it looks like, Haymitch," whispered Effie.

"No? Cus I'll tell you, from my point of view, it looks like you're bloody _cheating_." Effie shook her head. "Where'd you get that bottle?"

Effie looked at him. "I found them at the bottom of my suitcase," Effie said softly. "I didn't know they were there, I swear. I saw them and…." Her voice trailed off. What could she say? She'd finally found the strength to unpack everything. For the first few months she'd been living out of her suitcase, not that she was wearing her clothes. She'd taken comfort in plenty of Haymitch's things, though, and she didn't need to go into her suitcase for anything other than the necessities.

Now, though, things were… different. They were getting better for her. She had decided to unpack a few hours ago, and she'd just so happened to find the bottle of blue pills. She'd been shocked out of her mind. She hadn't seen these pills since the Quarter Quell, and any addiction she _might_ have had to them had been kicked while she'd been in that cell. She'd had no access to them then. When she'd found them she'd immediately gone into the bathroom, intent on throwing them out, until one simple word crossed her mind:

 _Relief_.

She thought she'd had nightmares before…. Back when she relived her Tribute's deaths. Now? Now they were ten times worse. Her dreams were filled with remembering and pain and hurt and hunger. She woke up during the night, a scream on her lips, more times than not, and the pills she had wanted to flush down the toilet moments ago suddenly seemed like a godsend.

"They would stop the nightmares," Effie told him gently.

"If I don't get my brown liquor, you don't get your blue pills." His voice was firm, but was laced with understanding. She hadn't realized she was crying until he'd approached her, wiping her cheek with his thumb. "There is no easy way out here, Princess. Give me the bottle."

She didn't hesitate. She handed them to him, and she saw the relief flood his eyes. She wondered if he was remembering it too: that night in the Penthouse when she'd nearly overdosed. She'd just wanted it to all _end_ , all the nightmares, all the death, and lately the pills hadn't been helping as much, so she had taken the initiative and upped the amount she took.

If Haymitch hadn't stumbled in on her, asking about more liquor, she'd probably have died. If Chaff hadn't known a Rebel doctor, she'd be dead, be it from an overdose or Snow if he'd gotten wind of the fact that one of his Escorts wasn't happy and chipper.

He'd called her stupid, and a hypocrite, and a stupid hypocrite, and what business did she have trying to _kill herself_? She'd kicked the habit for about a year, before going back to the pills when _she couldn't sleep_ , upping the dosage.

She made sure to be more careful.

It'd been two years since she'd had them, though, and she realized they hadn't quite lost its appeal to her.

Maybe if the nightmares weren't so bad….

Haymitch grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap, immediately tipping the bottle over so that all the pills fell into the toilet. He arched an eyebrow and Effie instantaneously bent over and flushed the toilet, sending the blue pills down the drain.

They looked at each other for several moments.

"Was that the only reason you wanted to take them? To stop the nightmares?"

Effie frowned. "Of course it is, Haymitch." His eyes searched hers for several moments before he finally turned around, apparently deciding to believe her. "Last night wasn't a mistake," she told him, and he stopped. He didn't turn around though. "It was… freeing. I feel better." She walked up to him, facing him. "I was able to unpack today. I've been here for six months and haven't touched my suitcase. I was able to do that tonight."

"That's because you couldn't wait to take over my closet."

Effie snorted. "I didn't move my things into your closet. You're afraid of commitment, and you would have freaked out."

Haymitch frowned. "I'm not completely afraid of commitment," he mumbled, and Effie laughed. She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips, surprisingly, found hers, and she responded in kind.

"Last night was not a mistake," she assured him, her lips on his throat. "I promise it wasn't." To prove it she slid her hands down to his waist and started unbuckling his pants.

Where last night had been gentle and soft and surprising and delicate this time was rough and hard and purposeful and over powerful. It was overwhelming, how anxious he was to get to her. He picked her up, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist, and walked towards his bed. There was biting, licking, sucking, scratching, and screaming, and by the time he was done with her his shirt was ruined and Effie's nightdress was in tatters on the floor.

Effie, still breathing hard, snuggled into Haymitch, suddenly exhausted. His arms wrapped around hers, his lips on her neck.

"Move your stuff into my closet," he told her, and she tried very hard not to turn and stare at him in surprise.

"Are you sure?" asked Effie.

"Wouldn't have asked if you if I wasn't, would I?"

No, she supposed not. She refrained from smiling, and from asking what that meant for them.

"You're ten times better than any brown liquor, that's for sure." His lips were on hers neck again, and she realized he'd just answered her question.

This time Effie couldn't quite hide her grin. "And you're better than any bottle of blue pills."

She felt him smile against her neck, and she turned to kiss him properly.

Maybe he wasn't so afraid of commitment. Telling her she was better than liquor was as good as an admission of love, and if he kept _this_ up, with the way he was kissing her again, she'd never need to _think_ about her blue pills to help her fall asleep.


	121. Merry Christmas, And Happy New Year

_SO, I'm posting CHRISTmas one-shots, because it's only the bestest holiday like EVER! Eeeek I LOVE this time of year! SO let's keep those Christmas prompts coming! I'm trying to do like an ABC Family 25 Days of Christmas type thing. I'd love to have 25 prompts to post (don't worry, they won't be similar at all, so it won't get redundant) but I'm also going to still post regular prompts, too. If I could get a few more Christmas prompts that'd be great. Thanks y'all! Enjoy. PS: This was not a prompt from anyone._

 **MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND HAPPY NEW**

 **Rated T**

Effie found that she was quite nervous. She wasn't sure why. She just knew this bubble of fear had been in her stomach since Katniss had threatened Panem with those berries.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the fear.

She was hoping that the holidays would cheer her up. Normally she got into the holiday spirit. It was just Christmas Day she hated. She always spent it with her over-indulgent parents and the day was never personable or fun or filled with love like in all of those holiday movies that played on television.

But this year would be different. She'd be spending it with Cinna and Portia, and she couldn't be more thrilled. She'd been touched at the offer, and hadn't really expected it. Though she considered them friends, she wasn't sure that she'd ever see them outside of the Games. And then, two weeks after they had won, Portia had called her to go shopping together, and then Cinna was inviting her to lunch another day…. They were _real_ friends. But were they close enough to spend the holidays together? Christmas was for family, and Effie knew how intimate of day Christmas could be.

She nearly wept when she got the formal invitation to attend.

She'd sent her parents a text, knowing they'd probably never get it, because they hardly ever used their cellphones, and then she went and got her dessert for the Christmas party. She was a horrid cook, and even more of a horrid baker, so she went and purchased Patti LaBelle's sweet potato pie. Cinna and Portia had both made it clear that they did not like pumpkin pie and were much more partial to sweet potato pie, and she would not be rude and even _attempt_ to make such a dish and insult her friends by trying.

Afterwards she dressed in her holiday best. It was one of Portia's designs. She preferred Cinna's designs—he seemed to know her mind, body, and soul—but Portia had outdone herself with this silk red number and Effie just had to have it. She wouldn't even tell Portia that she was wearing it. She'd just show up. Portia would be thrilled, because Portia and Cinna always play argued about whom Effie belonged to.

She was so fond of them, and couldn't wait to spend the holidays with them.

She just hoped being around them didn't make her madder for Haymitch.

It was always difficult for her, around the holidays.

She loved him.

He didn't know it, of course. Or maybe he did. He was smart, brilliant really, and if giving herself to him that night on the train hadn't proven it, she wasn't sure what else would. Still she'd lost track of how many Christmases she bought him a gift, with every intention of sending it off to 12, only never quite having the courage to do so.

Sending him a gift now, after what they'd done, would cause him to go into a panic. Commitment-phobe, that one was, so much so that she didn't even bother going out to get him a gift that she'd never send. She had a collection, ten years' worth, all placed neatly on her top shelf in her closet.

It didn't matter, though. This year she'd be around people she _really_ cared about, and was hopeful that she could escape from the sadness and fear in her life, even if only for a few hours.

When she arrived at Cinna's there were hugs and kisses and gushes of how beautiful she looked. Portia couldn't keep her eyes off of her, and it was obvious she was touched that Effie would wear one of her dresses.

The small party had been going on for a few hours when Cinna pulled her aside.

"I think I'm going to call Katniss," he told her. "I thought you might want to join me in the kitchen?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because there's a certain drunk that eats dinner there with them every now and then, and maybe you'll get lucky and he'll be there."

Effie blushed. "Is it that obvious?"

"That you're in love with him? Only to the trained eye. Even Portia isn't one hundred percent sure. You play your part well." Effie kept quiet. "Come on. At the very least you can wish him a Merry Christmas."

Effie bit her lip, and then followed Cinna into the kitchen.

 **XxXxXx**

Prim saw him passing her window and frowned. He didn't even glance at their house as he walked passed it, and that had her hopping up and running outside.

The cold instantly hit her, but she ignored it.

"Peeta!" called Prim, and he turned to her. He gave her an easy smile, but she knew that it was forced. He walked up to their porch.

"Hey, Prim."

"You're still not sleeping well," Prim stated, looking him over. "Nor are you eating."

He instantly dropped the smile. "It's been a long six months, Prim," sighed Peeta, and he rubbed his eyes.

"At least the Victory Tour's coming up soon."

"Yah. Right. There's that." He paused and stared at the girl. She was growing up, he quickly realized. "How is she?"

"No better than you," Prim responded sadly. "I wish you two would make up. You need each other."

He shook her head. "She never needed me. I know that now. It's okay, though."

It wasn't, but she thought perhaps it was best to let him think it was. "Why don't you come in for a little while?" Peeta hesitated. "Katniss is taking a bath. She'll be up there for at least an hour. You can come in, say hello, and drink a cup of hot chocolate, and she'd never know you were here."

For someone who was a Victor, he was a coward, he realized, and he stepped inside.

Mrs. Everdeen's breath caught in her throat once she saw Peeta. He could barely look at her. He never thought about what his admission did to her, or his family. He could only imagine. She was polite, though, even if she hardly could look him in the eye.

She was nicer than his mom, that's for sure.

"I'll get your hot chocolate started," Mrs. Everdeen stated, and then she was gone. Right as she was leaving the phone started to ring. Prim went to answer it.

"Hey, Cinna!" Peeta perked up. "No, Katniss is taking a bath. But Peeta's here." She paused. "Okay." Prim looked at Peeta. "He says there's someone there who wants to talk to you." He walked towards the phone.

"Hello?"

"Peeta!"

"Effie?" Prim watched as Peeta gave his first real smile since he'd come home. Since Katniss has broken his heart. "I'm great, how are you?" The lie slipped easily enough off of his lips.

"Merry Christmas!" sang Effie.

"Merry _what_?"

She must not have heard him. "Is Haymitch there too?"

Peeta snorted. "No. Of course he isn't."

"But… but it's Christmas."

"What's that?"

"What? Oh. _Oh_. That's right. The Districts don't celebrate the holidays." She paused for a few seconds. "Can you… can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"When you go and check on Haymitch… can you tell him Merry Christmas for me?"

Peeta frowned at phone, wondering what that meant. "Sure, Effie."

"Thank you so much. Oh I miss you two so much. I can't wait to see you in a few weeks. You two take care, okay?"

"Yah," Peeta said, and Katniss walked in right as he hung up, that genuine smile still on his face. At the sight of her his smile faltered, and then he was back to fake smiling. Prim frowned. "Hey, Katniss."

"Hey yourself." She stared at him, the air already awkward, and noticed the circles around his eyes. His skin was pale, and he looked thinner. She felt her stomach drop but pushed it away.

"Thank you for inviting me in, Prim, but I should go."

"But you haven't had your hot chocolate yet."

He gave Prim a real smile. "I'll have to take a rain check, okay? Effie wanted me to check on Haymitch, and then I have to go into Town to meet Madge."

Katniss stiffened at that, but neither Peeta nor Prim noticed.

"You've been spending a lot of time with her," noted Prim with a slight smile.

"Well she's a nice girl," Peeta laughed. "I'll see you around."

"Don't be a stranger."

Peeta nodded and walked away. He gave Katniss a gentle goodbye, but was gone before she could respond with her own. Her eyes followed him out of the door and watched him as he walked towards Haymitch's.

"You're an idiot," Prim declared, and Katniss scowled and marched upstairs.

 **XxXxXx**

"Haymitch?" Peeta called. He heard a low moan from the couch. Carefully stepping over bottles Peeta made his way to the living room to find Haymitch facedown, a bottle in his hand, and dressed only in sweats.

It was the same outfit, and he was in the same place that Peeta had left him in earlier. The bread that he'd bought Haymitch remained untouched. He was going to kill himself, Peeta thought with a frown.

"Haymitch, I have a message for you."

Haymitch sighed. "What?" he snarled.

"It's from Effie. She called a little while ago, and she wanted me to tell you Merry Christmas."

He saw the slight shift in Haymitch's demeanor, and found himself surprised when Haymitch made the effort to roll over. He squinted at Peeta, Peeta knowing that Haymitch was probably seeing double.

"She said what?"

"She said Merry Christmas."

Haymitch just stared at Peeta, as if he didn't believe him. In fact he stared at him for so long that Peeta started to feel uneasy. He started backing away, Haymitch watching him like a hawk, until Haymitch called out to him once he'd reached the door.

"Do me a favor, boy, and don't forget. Call her back and tell her… tell her Happy New Year."

Peeta had no idea what that meant either, but he couldn't help but feel like Effie should have wished _him_ that instead of it being the other way around.

He walked out of his Mentor's house and headed to Town to spend time with Madge. When he got back it was late, and he debated on if it was late enough for him to be called rude by Effie. In the end he shrugged and dialed the number. It rang several times before finally going to voicemail, where he left a message.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie got in well after midnight. Cinna had wanted her to stay, but she was terribly drunk, and being drunk made her lonely, and she didn't think she could handle staying there tonight. He and Portia had already been staring goo-goo eyes at each other for the past few hours, and she wasn't too keen on hearing them tonight.

She'd been down that road before, a few weeks ago, and had learned that her stylists were _loud_.

So they'd called her a cab, and she had come back to her apartment.

Her empty apartment.

She stumbled to the phone when she saw the red light that meant she had a message. She pressed play and immediately perked up when she heard the voice.

"Hey, Effie, it's Peeta. I'm sorry for calling so late, but Haymitch made it pretty clear that I was supposed to tell you this, and I only just got in. I hope you're not asleep, because I know this is quite rude, but it seemed important to Haymitch." Peeta paused and Effie held her breath. "Anyway, he told me to tell you Happy New Year."

With her legs like jelly, and it had _nothing_ to do with alcohol anymore, she made her way to her walk-in closet and found her travel bag. It was empty—she always unpacked as soon as she got home—except for one item.

She grabbed the button-down shirt she'd stolen from Haymitch six months ago, when they were bringing their Tributes home. Their _alive_ Tributes.

They'd slept together for the first time that night, the _only_ time they had done so. She'd stolen it while he was still asleep, and he was so out of it the next morning she doubted he even noticed.

So when she unraveled the shirt, which she had kept in the suitcase as to preserve its scent— _his_ scent (coal, alcohol, and musk), she gasped at the tiny piece of paper that fluttered to the floor.

She stared at it for a few moments before opening it up.

 _Enjoy, Princess. See you on the Victory Tour_.

 _-H_

She flushed, because she had no idea how he'd known, but she couldn't stop the smile from appearing on her face. She undressed and then slipped the shirt on, sniffing it as she cuddled in bed.

She _missed_ him.

She hoped that, even though the Districts didn't celebrate the holidays, that he did indeed have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.


	122. Let Me Count the Ways

_Not a Christmas fic. "13. Promt for you this has been in my head since I watched the film. 13 different times haymitch let slip that him and effie are together. Such as a hickey or like lipstick or Effie wears his hat stuff like that." FYI this isn't referring to MJ2. This prompt is referring to part 1. Hahahahahaha thanks Fatbumper for this prompt. OBSESSED!_

 **LET ME COUNT THE WAYS**

 **Rated M**

 _ **1\. BEANIE - Beetee**_

Beetee stared at Haymitch out of the corner of his eye, and then persisted in getting Katniss' weapons together. He continued to explain which colored arrow did what, but he was distracted. He wasn't sure Haymitch picked up on it, though.

Beetee wasn't sure how much of anything Haymitch picked up without his usual supply of liquor.

"Spit it out," Haymitch said at that moment, and Beetee blinked at him, surprised. Scratch that. Haymitch was still sharp as ever, and probably always would be. That's why he was the leader.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry. I guess I'm just wondering why your Escort is walking around with your beanie on." He could barely hide his surprise when Effie walked into the cafeteria with it on this morning. At first he thought maybe Effie just had one of her own, but then Haymitch walked into the cafeteria—conveniently all of two minutes after her—and his hair was showing for the first time in weeks.

Haymitch Abernathy actually _blushed_. Beetee refrained himself from smiling. Haymitch would definitely kill him; he didn't doubt it for one second.

"Effie's coming down with a cold," he mumbled, and then he turned away and walked out the door.

Guess he no longer cared about Katniss' newly remodeled bows.

* * *

 _ **2\. JACKET – Plutarch**_

Haymitch shivered again and scowled as he felt Plutarch's eyes on him.

"Cold?" asked Plutarch.

"Obviously," Haymitch said.

"Where's your jacket? We all have one." Haymitch shrugged and Plutarch dropped it.

He couldn't say that he was all that surprised when Effie showed up at lunchtime, dressed in his coat.

* * *

 _ **3\. SHIRT – Laundry Lady**_

She hummed to herself as she walked up to dirty clothesbasket marked 15. Room 15. _Effie Trinket_ , the laundry lady thought to herself. She knew all the names of the residents of 13, and which room they were in. It was her job to know. Coin had expressed to her very early on that she was to… collect evidence of any wrong doings, and bring them back to Coin.

The laundry lady did as she was told, because she knew her job depended on it. She couldn't say she told on everyone at every time, about everything, but important things… like if a wife had a ripped shirt, or a bloody shirt, it could mean she was being abused, and it was her duty as the laundry lady to report that kind of thing to Coin.

If she so happened to find a pair of women's underwear in a man's laundry basket, she might let that slide, if the two of them were of age and both single. She didn't see the harm in a little extra curricular fun.

But when she found Haymitch's shirt—and she knew it was Haymitch's because it _smelled_ like him (he'd always smell like booze, no matter what)—in Effie's laundry, the laundry lady frowned. The two of them were close, yes, but this confirmed her suspicions, and would definitely add to the gossip that was spreading about those two in 13.

It didn't have to _mean_ anything. He might have just taken his shirt off because he'd spilled something on it.

Except she found no stains on it whatsoever.

After another minute or two she shrugged and added it to the machine.

She didn't think Coin needed to know about this.

* * *

 _ **4\. PERFUME – Alma Coin**_

"That concludes the meeting for tonight," Coin said, rising. "Soldier Abernathy, if I could see you for a minute?" Haymitch could feel the stares of his fellow comrades, and he ignored the smirk on Plutarch's face as they all left.

Haymitch sighed, wondering what on earth this woman had to say to him now. He got out of his seat, grabbing his folder and tucking it under his arm, and made his way to the President of 13. "Madam President?" He tried desperately to keep the disdain out of his voice.

"You smell like your Escort." Her voice was cold, her eyes colder, and her words had his back going up.

"Excuse me?"

"You _smell_ like your Escort," she repeated, colder still.

Haymitch stared at her. "I really don't think who I smell like is really any of your business." His voice was just as cold as hers.

"Quite the contrary, Haymitch. It is very much my business. _Everything_ that happens in this District is my business."

Haymitch burst out laughing. "That's truly amusing."

"What is?"

"How much you sound like that bastard Snow." Haymitch scowled and stepped closer to her. "I didn't take orders from that piece of shit, and I won't take orders from you. You got a problem with my scent, don't fucking breathe."

With those words, he walked out of Command.

He was definitely going to break Effie's bottle of perfume.

* * *

 _ **5\. COLOGNE – Katniss**_

Katniss scowled and turned around, expecting to see Haymitch behind her.

Her face turned to surprise when she saw Effie falling into step instead.

"Hello, Katniss, dear," said the Escort.

"Hey," Katniss said, glancing around.

"What are you looking for?"

Katniss kept looking for a few more minutes before answering. "Nothing," she finally said. "I just thought Haymitch was around."

"Oh, no dear, he's with Coin." There was a slight edge to Effie's voice about Coin, but Katniss didn't pick up on it. "Why'd you think he was around?"

"I don't know. I thought I smelled him." She sniffed. "Can't you smell it? It's like a mixture of bad cologne, spirits, and aftershave."

"Don't be ridiculous, dear," said Effie, her face slightly flushed. "Haymitch can't shave." Katniss just stared at Effie. There was something there, tickling the back of her mind, but before she could dwell on it, Effie brushed passed her. "I should go. I'll see you at dinner, yes?"

In a somewhat rude twist of events, Effie left without waiting for Katniss' answer.

The thought was gone a few seconds later, as was the scent.

* * *

 _ **6\. ROOM – Finnick**_

"I don't want to leave," she whined, kissing his neck.

He shifted, willing himself to keep calm. _Stay down, boy_ , he told himself, because he'd already had her _three times_ tonight, and he thought he might truly die if he went another round with her, especially now that it was finally sunrise.

"Princess, I _have_ to get some sleep, okay? You gotta go back to your own room."

"But it's cold." She scooted closer to him and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Then wear my jacket." Effie didn't move. "Trinket, go to your room _now_ , woman!"

She tsked, sulked, and pouted, but he refused to change him mind. He was _exhausted_. Unlike _her_ he had work to do. It made him miss the days when he was the drunk Mentor and she was the bossy Escort.

Well she was still bossy….

"Bye, Felicia," he said, and she sighed and slipped out of bed. He decided to definitely _not_ peak as she slipped back into her clothes. "C'mere," called Haymitch when he heard her start heading towards the door. She came to him and he bent down to kiss her, slowly, sweetly, softly. "I'll see you later, okay? Try to get some rest. You didn't get much rest last night either."

He felt quite pleased as he realized she'd actually taken his jacket.

Effie slid out the door, making sure she closed it quietly. She turned around, intent on sneaking down the hall to her own room, when a pair of sea green eyes nearly made her yelp.

Finnick stood there, a smug smile on his face, a bowl of _something_ in his hand.

She blushed and looked away. "Not a word, Finnick," she said after awhile, and then made her way back to her room, head back, chin up, smile on.

* * *

 _ **7\. STARING – Prim**_

She saw the way he stared at her as she got up and left her lonely table. His eyes followed her as she discarded her empty tray, and then walked out of the cafeteria.

Prim changed directions and sat her tray down across from Haymitch.

"Why didn't you eat with her?" asked Prim.

He scowled at her, but he didn't scare her. She just kept looking at him until he rolled his eyes.

"Because Coin would have me by the ba—" he cleared his throat. "Because Coin wouldn't be pleased, kid."

Prim sat down. "Why do you care?"

" _I_ don't. But I don't want anyone treating Effie badly. She already sticks out like a sore thumb." He mumbled the last part, and then frowned.

"I don't think she'd care about what anyone said, as long as she knew you had her back." Haymitch just stared at her. "I was a few tables down when I heard you telling off Katniss and Finnick about how they were treating Effie. The way they let her sit by herself while you were in Detox. Now you're doing the same thing."

"Am not. I _talked_ to Effie about the way it complicated things. I just need her to lay low for a while. And I'll just draw more attention if she's constantly around me."

Prim pushed her tray away and leaned forward. "I don't know if you know this or not, but you're kind of a big deal around here. You're just as important as Katniss." Haymitch snorted. "You are. These people worship the ground you walk on. They don't understand why Effie's here, but if you told them that _you_ bought her here, they wouldn't question it."

Haymitch shook his head. "She's an Escort," he scoffed, and Prim frowned.

"She _was_ an Escort. If you're going to let that bother you, then you're not as badass as I thought you were." He arched an eyebrow at her language. "You care about her." Haymitch sighed and hunched his shoulder.

"What the hell do you know about it, kid?"

"Just because I've never loved someone romantically doesn't mean I haven't loved. I love my sister. My mother." She paused, and added softly, "I loved my dad. Love is the only thing that can't be explained. There's no rhyme or reason to or for it. I'm sure you don't even know how it happened. But it did, at some point. You shouldn't run from it. You shouldn't fight it."

She stared at him, as if she was waiting for him to say something, but he kept quiet.

"I get I don't really know you, Haymitch. But everybody knows you're a fighter. You're the leader of this Revolution, the brains behind most of this. We're going to war because of you, and people like you, who were unafraid to fight for justice. But love?" She shook her head. "You shouldn't fight against love. Not _real_ love. Not _true_ love. You and my sister are a lot alike…. She's miserable without Peeta. It took her losing him to realize how much she cares about him. Effie's here. She's safer than ever. You shouldn't lose that."

Haymitch just shook his head again. She was young. What did she know about fear and heartache?

"You're not the only one who lost someone, you know. Everybody knows what happened to your family." Haymitch jerked. "But you're not alone in this. My dad's dead too, remember? And I still hope that one day I'll find someone who looks at me the way my dad looked at my mom. The way Effie looks at you."

She stood up, clearly upset, taking her tray with her. Then she turned around. "You and my sister… you take it for granted. Love. You're fighters, so you fight everything. It's destructive. Sometimes I wish you two weren't so much alike. You two are miserable inside. There's only one person that can bring her hope, just like there's only one person that can bring you hope. Katniss' hope is probably being tortured in the Capitol as we speak. Your hope? Your hope is in room 15. Stop fighting it."

* * *

 _ **8\. SEX – Next Door Neighbor**_

She sighed and rolled her eyes. _Yup_ , she thought. _Just like clockwork._

She shook her head, trying to figure out of if she was annoyed or not. She supposed it was punishment. She wasn't _really_ supposed to be here. She only had a fifteen-minute break from the kitchen, but she often came to her room to take a thirty-minute catnap.

At least she used to.

Ever since those two had shown up, it was impossible.

Haymitch was definitely supposed to be in Command, but just like every Wednesday, he made his way to Effie's room instead, and the two of them went at it like rabbits. It's like he needed his midweek fix or something.

She couldn't say she was all that surprised. The sexual tension between them was always right there, on the surface.

A stifled moan had her rolling her eyes again.

She didn't even know why they bothered to try and be quiet. They were lousy at it. Truly, genuinely lousy at it.

She heard Haymitch let out something that resembled a hum. _He_ she could never really hear. He could be moaning, groaning, cursing for all she knew. He slipped, every now and then, but mostly it was just a soft hum, clearly base filled, clearly his.

 _Effie_ on the other hand, moaned out Haymitch's name as if the man were a god, which she very much didn't doubt. With the way Effie climaxed every three seconds, Haymitch was definitely _something_ , especially with how _long_ they lasted. Haymitch was no minuteman, that's for sure. She can't say she was surprised. He _was_ a Victor. A _Quarter Quell_ Victor at that. He definitely had stamina.

And she couldn't blame Effie. Not in the least. Even going through withdrawals Haymitch was a looker. Nothing compared to when he was a boy, but he still had it. _Obviously_. She wasn't sure what it was: his slightly muscular physique? His air of quiet indifference? The fact that he didn't give a fuck about anything? Or was it because he was brilliant? Or maybe it was his curls, or his eyes?

Or perhaps just all of the above.

Effie was cumming again, and it was always right about here that she started to feel guilty for eavesdropping. Not that she was trying to. They were just _loud_. She never stuck around to hear Haymitch cum, and today would be no different.

She slipped out of bed, shaking her head, wondering why she had to be assigned to room 14.

* * *

 _ **9\. EATING – Everybody**_

Finnick smirked as he watched Haymitch and Effie out of the corner of his eye. They were so routine now.

Johanna snarled as Haymitch dug into Effie's cake, and she let him.

Plutarch had to bite his tongue from asking how Haymitch knew to pass Effie the pepper without her having to ask.

Beetee arched an eyebrow as Haymitch turned his tray so that she could eat his mashed potatoes.

They were _so_ together, those two, even if they didn't know it.

* * *

 _ **10\. HOSPITAL – Mrs. Everdeen**_

Mrs. Everdeen looked at her clipboard and frowned as she read the next name.

 _EFFIE TRINKET_ , it read.

She left the room and walked to the visitor's lounge and called Effie to the back. Effie got up and followed Mrs. Everdeen, her heels clicking against the tile.

"Okay Ms. Trinket. How can I help you?" asked Mrs. Everdeen.

"Uh… well… I…." The woman blushed, and it made her look, if possible, even prettier. Her Capitol blue eyes darted left and right before finally locking with hers. "God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be. I'm a professional. What do you need?"

"Does 13… I mean there are hardly any children here so… it only seems like it _would_ , but…." She bit her lip, clearly nervous, but Mrs. Everdeen waited it out. "Does13havebirthcontrol?"

Mrs. Everdeen blinked. "Excuse me? You want to try that again?"

Effie took a deep breath. "Does 13 have birth control?" Her face was redder than ever, and Mrs. Everdeen nearly took pity on the poor woman. "It's just mine will be up in a few days and I obviously can't renew my subscription and…."

Mrs. Everdeen tuned her out. So the rumors were true, then.

She couldn't say she was surprised. Well she could…. She'd never known Haymitch to ever be with anyone, besides his girlfriend back when he was sixteen. But Effie was here, in 13, and Haymitch told any and everybody that Effie was apart of the team, that she was a Rebel. Katniss stuck up for her too, so Effie Trinket was all right in her book.

"No, Effie, 13 doesn't have birth control. But there are condoms. I can give you a few boxes."

"Please," said Effie, barely meeting her eye. Mrs. Everdeen grabbed a couple of boxes and handed them to Effie in a discreet bag.

"Don't worry," Mrs. Everdeen called. "I won't tell anyone about your visit."

Effie left, relieved.

* * *

 _ **11\. FLIRTING – Cressida**_

She had a director's eye, because she directed, so it was easy to spot it. Easy to spot _them_. It probably wasn't as obvious to everyone else, but she saw what no one else did.

She'd watched Haymitch talk to other women.

She'd watched other women flirt with him.

He was oblivious.

Enter Effie Trinket, and all of that went out the window.

Cressida doubted very much that Haymitch knew he had a smile reserved just for Effie. His eyes brightened—sparkled, if you will—and hers twinkled. She touched him a lot, and her hair, and he stood too close to her than what was respectable.

Had it been anyone else, they'd be invading each other's space.

Haymitch reached out and tugged at her scarf, and she slapped his hand, but giggled.

That wasn't so subtle.

* * *

 _ **12\. LIPSTICK – Johanna**_

Haymitch sat down next to her, and she tried not to scowl. It was already fucking crowded enough as it was. It was like everybody wanted a piece of them—the Victors who had been rescued.

"I know you don't do mushy shit," Haymitch said, "but I'm glad you're okay."

The words shocked her and she stared at him. "Your Escort's got you goin' soft."

Haymitch stiffened. "How the fuck have you possibly heard anything? You only just got out the hospital this morning."

"It didn't take long to figure out."

"There's nothing to figure out." He'd said it so firmly that she almost believed him. It was crazy how easily all of them could lie, and sound so convincing. So Johanna snorted and rolled her eyes at his words. "Don't believe me?"

"Fuck no."

"Why not?"

"Cus you've got lipstick on your collar, brainless."

Haymitch would _not_ blush, but _fuck_ he was going to kill Effie.

* * *

 _ **13\. HICKEY – Peeta**_

He was actually surprised when Haymitch walked into his quarters. He hadn't really seen much of him, and he wasn't quite sure why his 'Mentor' had come now. He'd been in here, tied up, for a few weeks now.

"How you doin' kid?" asked Haymitch, his voice gruff.

"What do you want Haymitch?" Peeta asked warily. He was so tired.

"Nothin'. Just wanted to check on you."

Peeta snorted. "Took you long enough."

"I wasn't sure if you hated me or not."

"I kinda do. Not a lot. Not like I hate Katniss." His voice was filled with so much dislike it made Haymitch's stomach churn.

"You don't hate Katniss, boy. You love her."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "Did Effie tell you to come visit me?"

"She kinda got on me, yah."

Peeta stayed silent for a few moments. "She's nice. Kinda like I remember her. Only… different."

Haymitch snorted. "You summed it up perfectly."

"She's pretty. And happier than I've seen her. I guess you showed her you weren't blind."

Haymitch frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Peeta could have told him it was because he could see the hickey on his neck, and the fact that he'd seen similar marks on Effie earlier really forced him to put two and two together, but he thought his Mentor might die of embarrassment from that, so he resisted.

"She got you to come see me, didn't she?"

Haymitch grinned, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head. "She certainly has her ways, boy."

Petta grinned. He bet she did.

 _LOVED this one in the end. At first I was kind of reluctant, and let me tell you, it wasn't as easy as it seemed LOL. I didn't just want to show the typical characters. I think Finnick, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are my favorite. The next door neighbor inspired its own one shot. Look out for that. Also, how about that "Bye Felicia" moment? I know it's TOTALLY not ANYTHING REMOTELY related to THG, but it's such a fun expression. Hope you all enjoyed!_


	123. Spin the Bottle

_UHHHH OMG DID ANYBODY ELSE SEE THE WIZ LIVE?! JUST… GLORIOUSLY GLORIOUS. AMAZING. JUST LIFE TIMES INFINITY. I LITERALLY WANTED TO CRAWL THROUGH MY TV AND BOW DOWN TO THE GENIUS THAT WAS THE CAST AND CREW._

 _Anyway. Ahem. Just a random A/U that'll never really happen with all our favorites! Minus Everlark. Another Christmas story, from my own head._

 **SPIN THE BOTTLE**

 **Rated M**

Effie walked into Snow Mansion, immediately discarding her winter coat and hanging it up on the coat rack next to the door. Mags, her manager, gave her a warm smile, and then grimaced.

"What is it?" asked Effie.

"It's Haymitch. Guests have been complaining all night about how loud they're being."

Effie sighed. She'd nearly forgotten about Haymitch and his annual weekend getaway with his friends. Every year it was the same thing. She had just returned from a _wonderful_ evening with some girlfriends, and now she was about to babysit him all night.

"I'll take care of it, Mags. Why don't you go ahead and head upstairs? The storm will hit any minute now and I doubt we'll get any more guests. Most people are where they're supposed to be for the holidays."

"Sure thing, Ms. Trinket. Goodnight."

It wouldn't be, Effie knew, but she smiled goodbye to Mags as she made her way to the elevator. Gritting her teeth Effie walked towards the Penthouse elevator and cued in her code that would get her to Haymitch's room the quickest.

" _Mr. Abernathy_!" Haymitch turned around and locked eyes with the hot little number who was currently scowling at him. It wasn't every day a beautiful woman was calling his name. "Would you _please_ keep it down? I shall not ask you again!"

"Calm down, Princess," sighed Haymitch. "Have a drink, Sweetheart, loosen your corset." She gasped, clearly furious.

"That is no way to talk a lady," Effie said, her lips forming into a straight, thin line.

Haymitch looked her over: golden blonde hair, bright blue eyes, firm lips, and a body to die for, and the Christmas-red dress she was wearing expertly showcased every nook and cranny. "When I see a lady, I'll let you know."

Effie's eyes turned to slits. "You keep that up, you will no longer find yourself allowed to stay here. No other hotel will accept you. You're blacklisted, and now I know why. You disturb all the guests with your loud music and _drinking_ and—"

"Aye, Trinket, relax," slurred the familiar voice of Chaff. She turned and saw him stumbling towards her. He wrapped her arms around her shoulder. "You know Haymitch just likes to yank your pretty chain."

"You know you like it." said another voice, and Effie's blue eyes rested on the haughty face of Johanna Mason. "You and Haymitch have _always_ had a hard-on for each other. Frankly I think you two should just stop being brainless and fuck already."

"Effie's taken," and Effie grinned at Finnick O'dair. "Aren't you?" His sea green eyes twinkled as he walked up to her, and Effie laughed. "Tell them all how we're going to runaway together, as soon as the snow clears up."

"And what would we do with your lovely fiancé, Finnick?" Effie's eyes darted to the redhead in the corner, dancing in the corner to the music.

"Annie knows about our… _thing_ , Effie, don't worry. She's not really the jealous type."

Effie laughed. "I do adore you, Finnick."

"Stop flirting with the boy," snapped Haymitch. "You're, what, three times his age?"

Effie glared at Haymitch. "Yet here you are, pushing what, seventy, eighty, and still hanging with the likes of Finnick and Johanna?"

"As opposed to you, who mans this entire hotel by herself?"

"I've never seen you with anyone on your arm, Haymitch. Is it because of all the alcohol you drink? Perhaps you can't get it up anymore?" Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "Don't play with fire, Mr. Abernathy. You know _nothing_ of my personal life, even if you have been coming here for nearly twenty years."

"That's not true," Chaff said. "He knows you were engaged to that one guy with the funny beard. What was his name?"

"Shut _up_ , Chaff," snarled Haymitch.

"Seneca was his name," Finnick said, ignoring Haymitch, and Chaff nodded.

"That's it. Haymitch was quite pissed about that. Didn't shut up all year about that. When's the wedding, anyway? Haven't you two been engaged for two years now?"

"Seneca and I are no longer together," Effie stated, though she was looking at Haymitch. He kept his face blank, his eyes guarded.

"See? Now you can fuck her, buddy," smiled Chaff.

"You've had quite enough to drink, I think," Haymitch said, his voice deathly low.

"Well look at the pot calling the kettle black," and everybody's attention turned to Cinna. "Well to what do I owe this pleasure? They said you owned this hotel, but…." Cinna's eyes glittered as he smiled at Effie, slowly approaching her. "I have to say, it is an honor to meet you." He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Cinna. You are certainly as charming as the tabloids say you are," grinned Effie.

"And you're just as beautiful now as when you modeled." He kissed her hand again. "If I wasn't very much in love with my partner Portia, I'd make you mine."

"Hey, back off. She's mine," Finnick stated.

Effie laughed, shaking her head.

"Don't be ridiculous," stated Seeder, appearing out of nowhere. "She's Haymitch's."

"Now _that_ is ridiculous," Effie said firmly. "Now it is late, and I don't want to be a stick in the mud—"

"That'll be the first," muttered Haymitch, and he winked at her when she shot him a look.

"I just came down here to ask you all to keep it down. I don't mind you celebrating, but I do have guests, and they need their beauty sleep, and quite frankly, so do I."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cinna said, smiling. "You could stay up for a few more hours and party with us. It's Christmas, after all, and someone as beautiful as you shouldn't be spending it alone."

"Who says I'm alone?"

Cinna arched an eyebrow. "I apologize. Of course Effie Trinket isn't alone. You must have men throwing themselves at you."

"And women," purred Portia, and Effie smiled at the pretty woman who stood by Cinna.

"Well I certainly don't swing that way, but looking at you it's quite tempting. You must be Portia. May I say, pictures don't do you justice in the least."

"I'm being complimented by Effie Trinket. Pinch me." Cinna did, and Portia shot him a death glare that made Effie's heart swell with pride. "We shouldn't keep you from your… boyfriend? Husband?"

Effie sighed. "There's no one."

"Then you'll join us?"

"Absolutely not. It's not proper. My guests are quite furious with you all, you know, and I cannot be seen in such company." Her eyes darted to Haymitch when she said that, and he frowned.

"You own this fine establishment, do you not? I say you can be wherever you want. I have to admit, I'm quite a fan, and it'd make my entire Christmas if you decided to stay for a game."

Effie stared into the earnest eyes of Cinna, and then glanced at everyone else. "Fine. Just _one_ game."

"Great. We're playing spin the bottle."

Effie's mouth dropped open. "We most certainly will not. If there's any game that is inappropriate, it is that one. Besides, the majority of these people are taken."

"Only Finnick and Annie are truly taken. Portia and I don't mind if the other… dabbles every now and then, but _only_ on nights we're together."

Effie frowned. "You guys sleep around on each other?" She blushed scarlet at those words. "That was highly rude of me to ask. What you do is you business."

"We don't _do_ anyone else," Portia stated firmly. "Though if I wanted to kiss Haymitch, I don't think Cinna would care."

"And if I wanted to make out with you, Effie, Portia would be okay with that."

"That is… unique."

"You don't approve," grinned Seeder.

"Oh, I'm quite the selfish lover. Under no circumstance can anyone I am dating so much as _look_ at another woman. It would be _war_." She glanced at her watch. "If we're going to be juveniles and play this stupid game, let's get it over with. I want a round of shots first, though."

 **XxXxXx**

They all sat around the table: Johanna, Seeder, Portia, and Effie with Chaff, Cinna, Haymitch, and Beetee, a random guy who volunteered to play when they needed one more guy.

"Okay," Finnick stated. He'd be the judge if the bottle landed between two people. "Johanna, you first."

She spun the bottle and it twirled around, finally landing on Portia.

"You up for a little girl on girl action?" grinned Portia.

"What the hell? Ain't much else I haven't done." The two of them went into the closet. Effie took this time to take another shot. It was her fourth one, and Haymitch arched an eyebrow.

"You got a problem there, Trinket?"

She ignored him.

The game went on, Effie having had to kiss Portia, much to her delight and Effie's dismay—(she gave Portia a chaste kiss on the lips after the designer declared they didn't have to do anything she was uncomfortable with). Afterwards she had to kiss Johanna, and then Cinna, who didn't even let her go the closet. He just pulled her towards him in front of everyone and forced his lips to hers.

It was quite a pleasant kiss, and Effie would have thoroughly enjoyed it if Cinna wasn't taken.

When Effie spun the bottle and it landed on Chaff he took one look at Haymitch and grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Sorry, mate," Chaff stated, and taking a page out of Cinna's book, planted a kiss on Effie's lips in front of everyone.

She stood quite rigid, stiffening as she heard the whistles and the claps. He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up off the floor.

When he put her down again Haymitch looked like he might murder Chaff, but Effie just blinked at him, wiping her mouth, breathing heavily.

"Not… not bad, Chaff." She was surprised, and licked her lips, still stunned.

"You know what they say… once you go Black…." He let the sentence hang and arched an eyebrow. Effie flushed and Finnick laughed, grabbing Effie and placing her back down in her spot.

It was Haymitch's turn, and he'd kissed damn near everybody, a few of them twice, because he wasn't into men, he declared, and he had no problem with girl on girl action, but he would _not_ succumb to kissing another man.

"I've never been _that_ drunk," he said, raising his glass.

Effie shouldn't have been surprised that the bottle _finally_ rested on her, but she frowned nonetheless. She slowly raised her eyes to him, and their eyes locked.

He seemed just as shocked as her.

"It's about _time_ ," Johanna declared.

"No," declared Effie. "Absolutely not. Isn't kissing Haymitch just like kissing Chaff?"

Seeder snorted. "Take it from someone who's kissed them both tonight: no, it's not."

"Stop being a pussy, Trinket," snapped Johanna. "You two get in the closet, and don't even think about leaving until your two minutes are up."

Effie huffed. "Fine. But I need another drink first." She snatched Haymitch's glass out of his hand and shot the rest of it back, slamming it down on the table. "Let's get this over with."

They made their way to the closet, Haymitch lagging behind to grab another bottle. Effie tapped her foot impatiently when they approached the closet. "Aren't you going to open the door? It's only proper." He just blinked at her until she muttered, " _Impossible_ ," under her breath, and barged into the closet." Haymitch closed the door behind them. Effie turned off the light and waited expectantly. "Well get on with it then."

A few seconds later the light switched back on. "We don't have to do anything, Effie," Haymitch sighed. She arched an eyebrow. "You're trashed, for one, and two… we don't really get along, so I don't think it's fair."

Effie blinked at him. "Don't try and be chivalrous now, Haymitch. I agreed to play the stupid game, so let's just do it."

He stared at her. "Do you want to?"

"Of course I don't _want_ to, Haymitch! I'd rather kiss a toilet seat." He cringed. "But I'm also not a sore loser."

Haymitch took a long drink from his bottle, never taking his eyes off of her. She was hot, he realized. He'd always known that, so that wasn't the word he was looking for. Beautiful came to mind, but he pushed that aside too. He'd hadn't been this close to anyone in a while, and it was making him damned uncomfortable.

"Are you two making out yet?" snickered Finnick.

Effie flushed. "Finnick, _please_."

"Well I'll just have you know that you two are going to stay in there until you've worked out your differences."

"What? _What_?" Effie pushed Haymitch aside just as she heard the lock click.

"You left your keys on the table, Effie. Sorry I'm not sorry. Merry Christmas!"

"Finnick. Finnick O'dair this is _not_ funny. You can't lock us in here!"

"Too late. You kids have fun."

Effie whirled around. "They're _impossible_. What are we supposed to do?"

Haymitch sighed and shrugged. "Give 'em what they want, I suppose." He yanked her to him and she gasped, her heart dropping to her stomach. He was close. Much too close. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, as well as aftershave, which made _no_ sense, because the man didn't shave.

She was pretty confident he didn't know what a razor was.

Still, her eyes darted to his lips nonetheless, and she hadn't meant to do it. She had hoped he hadn't noticed, but before she could pry her eyes away from his lips he broke into that signature smirk.

"You know what I think, Trinket?"

"Do you think, Haymitch?" The taunt came out breathless, and she found herself refraining from clearing her throat.

"Not often, but when I do, I find that I'm right. I think you're into me."

"Do not be ridiculous."

His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips. "Don't lie to me. I can practically hear the way your heart's thumping."

His voice was much too low, and she heard it: the _lust_ , and she realized that even if she did feel something, so did he, which she proved by lowering her hand to the front of his pants. He was hard.

He jerked, his body accidentally brushing hers.

They both froze, their eyes locking, and then all hell broke lose. Their lips locked, roughly, _hotly_ , and it was _everything_ she ever thought it'd be—not that she'd ever thought about it. She gave an involuntary moan, and that seemed to snap him out of it.

His eyes were dark as he stared at her, and she blushed, furiously. He could tell she was embarrassed.

"That was everything I'd hoped it'd be," he told her. He was still slightly breathless, and still standing much too close for either of their comfort. He wanted her so badly it hurt, and it was strange, feeling like this, because he hadn't in quite a few years.

Effie took a deep breath. "Do you think they'll let us out now?" Haymitch shrugged, his eyes still not leaving hers. "Do you think we should try to get their attention?"

"Sure."

But neither of them moved.

Effie bit her lip, her heart still hammering. The electricity surrounding them still wasn't calming down, and her heartbeat was still speeding up instead of slowing down. She could barely catch her breath.

In one bold move, she reached up and tugged on the string, forcing them into darkness again.

That seemed to be his cue.

He was all over her, his hands everywhere. She heard a soft thud and figured he'd dropped the bottle, which proved to be the case when both his hands cupped her cheeks, and then slid down, pulling her closer to him. She could feel him against her, and it fascinated her.

He was turned on.

She slid her hands down, gripping him over his pants, and he groaned.

"Don't be a tease, Princess," he muttered against her mouth.

"Then take them off and let me really feel you."

He smirked against her lips. "I _love_ that you're so bossy, even in the midst of all this." He gripped her breasts, squeezing, his lips covering hers. "By the way, if you _ever_ kiss Chaff again, I'll never talk to you again."

"I was trying to make you jealous after that kiss you shared with Johanna."

"I only kissed her like that because _you_ enjoyed your kiss with Cinna."

"I love it that you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

He shoved her dress up and she started unbuckling his pants, making quick work of it. She pushed his pants down and he pinned her against the wall, pleased that she was ready for him.

She let out a low moan when he entered her and he brought his lips to her neck, determined to leave… _results_ to mark her as his. Her hips immediately plummeted into his and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"I missed you," she breathed. "A year is much too long, Haymitch."

"I asked you to come home with me, didn't I?" He dug his fingers into her waist, speeding up as the pleasure started to consume him. "You're the one who won't leave this place."

"We'd kill each other," she panted. "Don't you think?"

He cursed, capturing her lips again. She shoved her tongue down his throat and he felt himself losing control. She whispered his name rapidly, and he knew she was close too. He watched her, transfixed, as she came, her climax forcing him to release.

They slid down to the floor, him still inside her.

"I think I will lose my _shit_ if you do not come back with me." He blamed the mind-blowing sex for his quick tongue. She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. "It's gone on long enough, hasn't it? The sneaking around? The games? The _bullshit_? Aren't we too old for it?"

"I thought this is what you wanted."

"I thought I made it quite clear where I stood after you took up with Seneca. I didn't take too kindly to being replaced."

"You could never be replaced."

He shifted so that he could look at her. Her eyes were soft as she stared at him. He was serious, she realized, and she felt her heart speed up at the realization.

"Mags is old. She can't run the hotel by herself. I will find someone to take over for me, and I will join you. _You_ could always stay _here_ until I get my affairs in order."

He kissed her again, kissed her until she let out a soft whimper that got him hard enough to start moving inside of her again. "I think you should find someone before the weekend is up."

She let out a groan, and whether it was from frustration or pleasure he couldn't tell. He figured it was a mixture of both. Her hips pumped, meeting his own, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know," grunted out Haymitch. He cupped her cheeks, kissing her softly. "I'm sorry for the past few years." He sped up. "I was quite pissed you'd gotten engaged to another man."

Effie tugged at his hair as her body responded to him. "I was hoping it'd show you how much you cared for me."

"It worked."

"I almost lost you." She cried out as the first orgasm escaped.

"I _hated_ the thought of another man touching you. Fucking you. Making you cum. _Loving_ you."

"He fucked me, yes, but he never made me cum. And he loved me, as much as a man like him could, but not like you. Never like you. He never compared, Haymitch. Never. God, never." She threw back her head, whispering his name.

They'd had this conversation before, a year ago, only they hadn't been wrapped around each other. They were just reiterating it now, though he really didn't need the assurance. He'd proven he loved her when he asked her to come back home with him, which she had declined, because they were bloody dysfunctional.

It'd been a _miserable_ year without her, and he thought that he might not come back this year, only the thought of not seeing her was unbearable, so he'd come, and nothing had changed—she still drove him _mental_ , could make him harder than steel, and make him feel _alive_ more than anyone else in all of Panem.

She shuddered when she came again, and he willed himself to hold off, because he was used to lasting longer than this, but she was such a damn _temptress_. She kissed him until his brain went fuzzy, forcing him to explode inside of her.

She sighed, breathing hard, her body slick with sweat. He couldn't wait to get out of here so he could undress her properly. In the meantime he moved her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Should we let them all know then? That we've had a secret love affair for about fifteen years?"

"I think they'll figure it out once you come back with us," he snorted, nibbling on her neck.

"Good. I'm tired of hiding. And I'm tired of us being mad at each other."

" _You_ never shoulda been mad at me."

"I had to get engaged to another man before you realized how much you cared about me," she stated dryly. "I was quite furious with you, Haymitch. You should thank your lucky stars for us playing spin the bottle tonight like a couple of teenagers."

He grinned at her. "Looks like my bottle finally came in handy for something."

Effie rolled her eyes. "Yes, and it'll be the _last_ thing it's handy for." She finally slid out of him, smoothing out her dress. He put his pants back on, buckling them up. "I do think we're stuck here for the night."

"It wouldn't be the first time," he snickered.

It certainly wouldn't be.

The next morning when Finnick finally opened the door, he found Effie and Haymitch entangled around each other, Haymitch's button-up covering Effie. Her head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around her.

On the last day, when they saw Effie come down with several suitcases full of things, wearing a sweatshirt that definitely belonged to Haymitch, but he definitely hadn't bought it with him this year, they all realized that Effie and Haymitch had played them for fools. No weekend, even around Christmas, was _that_ good.

Up until then, they'd all thought a game of spin the bottle had gotten them together.


	124. Christmas Miracle

_MOVED THIS UP BECAUSE IT'S A CHRISTMAS STORY. SORRY, I KNOW IT'S SLIGHTLY UNFAIR._

" _I have another request, can we get part two to the Christmas pen one! I thought it was adorable and I can imagine them toasting on Christmas morning and Katniss and Peeta telling them that they were gonna be grandparents."- Happy5. As far as part two to the Christmas story… I don't know. It was already a three shot, and I liked leaving the ending open. And Everlark wouldn't have told them that they were grandparents b/c those stories only take place a few yrs after the war. BUT I could write a fan fic where they do tell Hayffie… and it could be set around Christmas time… so maybe I'll do that. It's kinda your prompt but not all the way._

 _Also from Happy5: "One more prompt. Effie and Haymitch argue because the kids want to call her grandma but she is like No she is GlamMa because she isn't old enough to be a grandmother."_

 **CHRISTMAS MIRACLE**

 **Rated T**

Effie and Haymitch stood under the mistletoe under the archway in the living room, their lips locked, their arms wrapped around each other. It had taken him _years_ to be this affectionate, and he still had trouble with it, so when he acted like this, she tried to take advantage of it. For someone who mumbled and grumbled about all the holidays that had been reinstated over the years, he certainly had no problem locking his lips with hers underneath the mistletoe at every given opportunity.

They'd been under there for a good two minutes, after Katniss and Peeta had ran upstairs to get them their gift. The younger couple had told them to wait in the living room and Effie had immediately made her way towards the living room. She was halfway towards the couch when Haymitch had grabbed her, pulled her into him, and started snogging the life out of her.

Now she was moaning softly, pinned against the pillar, and nearly mad with desire. She wondered if it was normal to still feel this strongly about someone. Maybe they were still making up for all those years where they disliked each other. They certainly did have a lot making up to do.

"Oh can you two _please_ get a room?" sighed Katniss, and Effie couldn't figure out if the girl was serious or not. She'd been snapping at all of them left and right lately, reminded Effie too much of the young girl she had Reaped.

"Shut up," Haymitch said, and then his lips were on Effie again. She smiled against his lips and then gently pushed him away. "What?" whined Haymitch. "We've been together for twenty years. You'd think they'd be used to it." He went to kiss her again but she stepped passed him.

"We are being quite rude houseguests, Haymitch." Effie sent Katniss and Peeta an apologetic look. Katniss just scowled while Peeta looked amused. The four of them made their way to the living room, Effie taking in all the decorations. She just _loved_ Christmas. They sat on the couch while Katniss and Peeta stood next to their Christmas tree, clearly nervous, Katniss holding a square, wrapped, flat gift.

Katniss shot Peeta a look. He arched his eyebrow, and she nodded.

"Well, you know why we called you both here," Peeta started. "We wanted to tell you two something, and we wanted to do it before everybody showed up on Christmas Eve."

"If you are about to tell us that you're getting divorced, I'm actually gonna be pissed," Haymitch said. He eyed the gift in her hand. "Let me find out those are divorce papers."

Katniss gaped. " _Divorced_? Why would you think that?"

Haymitch shrugged. "Maybe because you two have been sounding like me and Effie for the past few weeks."

Effie sighed and closed her eyes. "Honestly, Haymitch, do shut up."

"What? It's true. We can hear the slammed doors with our windows closed. Katniss has been driving everybody up a wall lately. I wouldn't be surprised if Peeta finally got tired of her, but I'm not gonna be happy, because the two are _miserable_ without each other. And who the hell announces a divorce during the _holidays_?"

Peeta frowned. "We are _not_ divorcing," he snapped. "That's ridiculous."

Haymitch shrugged again. "Well you can't blame me for thinking that. You two have been fighting a lot, and Katniss has been even more of a pain in the ass than lately."

"I'm having mood swings, you jackass," snapped Katniss, her eyes blazing. Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Shut up before I shoot you with my bow. Peeta has been planning this moment for a while now, and I'm not gonna let you ruin it. You're forbidden to speak anymore tonight. Just sit back and shut up."

Haymitch scowled, not at all happy to be talked to like a bloody _child_.

"Haymitch, be quiet and let Peeta speak," Effie demanded, and he glared at her too. She _always_ took the kid's side. See if he kissed _her_ again under the mistletoe.

Or anything else for that matter.

Peeta took another deep breath. "Katniss _has_ been moody lately," and he shot her a look of apology as she glared at him. "But there's a reason for that." He glanced at her again, and her look softened a little. "She's pregnant."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up and Effie gasped after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh my God. That's _wonderful_!" She was up and hugging them both, and there were tears in her eyes, and then _Katniss_ was crying, and the two women were embracing, and the whole thing was weird because the two of them weren't really affectionate with each other.

"So what do you think, Haymitch?" asked Katniss, drying her eyes.

"Oh, do I get to talk now?" he asked.

Her shoulders slumped. "Go ahead," she sighed.

"What?"

"Go ahead and make fun of me."

Haymitch stood up and approached Katniss, cupping her cheeks. "Are you happy Sweetheart?"

"I'm terrified," she breathed, quickly glancing at Peeta. "But yes, I'm also happy."

"Then I'd never make fun of you for that. Congratulations."

And then she was crying again, and Haymitch backed away from her, ready to run out of the room, but she clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably. He was stuck until Effie and Peeta took pity on him and pried Katniss away.

"This is the best Christmas gift ever," Effie exclaimed.

"The news wasn't your gift," said Katniss, wiping her eyes.

"There's _more_?" Effie asked.

"What, are you divorcing _and_ pregnant?" asked Haymitch, and Katniss shot him a look. He grinned at her. "What? I was joking."

"Peeta and I wanted you to have this." Katniss walked up to him and handed him the gift. Effie stood next to him as he discarded the wrapping paper.

Their breath caught in their throat as they realized it was an ultrasound.

"Katniss," whispered Effie. "We can't accept this."

"Course we can," Haymitch said, clinging it tightly, his voice rough. "It'd be rude not to accept the gift, right?"

"But it's the first picture of their baby."

"It's not," Peeta assured Effie. "We got one a few visits ago. We agreed you two should have this one."

Haymitch stayed quiet, staring at the picture while Effie felt tears springing in her eyes again.

"I'm so happy for you two," Effie said, her voice watery. "We didn't even know you were trying."

"We weren't. Not really," said Katniss. "Peeta wanted them, and I agreed we'd try, but we were gonna wait a few more years. I didn't think I was ready but…." Katniss shrugged.

"It's a Christmas miracle," Effie stated as she and Haymitch got ready for bed later on that night.

"I guess it is, Princess," responded Haymitch. He still held on to the picture. She wasn't sure he'd ever let it go, and it made her smile.

"You're going to spoil her rotten," declared Effie as they got ready for bed.

"Course I am. Just don't be jealous, okay?"

"Long as I stay number one in your life, I will be fine."

"I make no promises." He looked at the picture again and then placed it on his nightstand.

In front of her picture, no less.

Under the cover she snuggled into him. "She shall call me Glam-ma, I think."

Haymitch snorted and looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"Well I'm much too young to be referred to as Grandma."

Haymitch barked out a laugh. "Okay. Keep telling yourself that."

"Well I _am_ ," huffed Effie. "Just because _you're_ old as dirt."

Haymitch stopped laughing. "Am not."

This time it was Effie's turn to laugh. "You're young in your mindset—some less civilized than I might call you immature—but you _are_ old in age, Haymitch."

Haymitch pouted. "That's not what you what you said earlier before dinner. Or during lunch. Or during breakfast." He snaked his arm around her waist. "Or this morning, when I woke you up. I don't think I'm that old at all."

Effie had no counterargument for that. In fact she found herself quite hot.

She cleared her throat. "Well I shall still be Glam-Ma, thank you very much. No one who looks this good shall be referred to as a grandmother."

 _He_ couldn't argue with that, so he didn't. "Well I get to be Glam-pa."

Effie belted out what sounded suspiciously like a snort. "Do not be ridiculous. There is nothing glamorous about you."

"That's not what you said when you were thirteen," he mumbled, slipping his hand under her nightgown.

"I suppose you weren't terribly barbaric, for a man from the Seam." He snorted as his lips made his way to her neck. Her terribly _delicious_ neck.

"Does it make you regret it at all?" asked Haymitch, his hands taking a familiar route and finding her breasts.

"Does what make me regret what?" Effie breathed.

"Does them having a kid make you regret us not having children?"

She stilled suddenly and looked up at him. He instantly noticed the change in her and stared at her. She brushed his grey hair out of his face.

"We have children, Haymitch. You gave me to two beautiful Tributes, whom I love as if they are my own." She reached up and kissed him deeply. "Maybe I've never properly thanked you before. I can thank you now."

He thought having her next to him, and having her underneath him, was thanks enough in itself.

Like his own little personal Christmas miracle.


	125. Meant to Be

_This was not a prompt, but it stemmed from a prompt. Not a Christmas fic. They will be returning shortly._

 _Sequel to Ash's Request (Chapter 97)._

 **MEANT TO BE**

 **Rated M for smut**

Haymitch found Effie out back, on the swing, staring off into space. He sighed and walked up to her, sitting down next to her.

"It's not that I'm not happy for her… for them," she said after a while. "Of course I am. It's just I thought… I thought it might be me."

Haymitch stared out into his backyard, the temperature dropping more and more as the sun set lower and lower. "We haven't been trying that long, Effie," said Haymitch. "Only a few months. And it's not like we get a lot of opportunities with Ash sharing our bed every other night."

Effie sighed, "I know." She looked up at him. "I want to stop trying." Haymitch inhaled sharply.

"No you don't."

"I do. I can't stand the thought of not being able to have children, Haymitch. They did so many things to me in that cell I wouldn't be surprised."

"Don't." Haymitch's voice was low, warningly low. His face was set, and she knew he was thinking about it. About it all. Her cell. The guards. The torture.

"I'm just saying, I think the thought of not being able to carry might break me. I should get back on the birth control. If it's meant to happen, it will. And if it's not meant to happen, I can always just blame it on that."

"Effie…."

"It's okay, Haymitch. Maybe Katniss' child will cure my baby fever." She gave him a smile that he knew was forced and leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You need to shave, Darling."

Her hand lingered on his cheek for a few seconds and then she got up and walked back into the house. He sat outside for a few minutes longer, frowning. _This_ is why he didn't hope, he remembered. Being with her… loving her had made him forget that some things were just beyond his control.

A short while later he walked back inside, his heart heavy.

 _ **ONE MONTH LATER**_

Effie let out a soft moan as Haymitch's hands gripped her waist. The things those hands did to her body, even after all these years, was still quite astounding. If he kept _that_ up he'd surely make her cum without even being inside of her.

She gasped when his lips found her nipple, and then his hands cupped her in between her legs. Her back arched and she whispered his name, the bubble in her stomach nearly ready to burst.

This was the first time she'd let him touch her since deciding she no longer wanted to have a child.

He was certainly milking it for all it was worth.

And then—

The pitter-patter of feet running down the hall.

They barely had time to roll off of each other before their door swung open and Ash bounced on the bed. Ash grinned at his mother and she cleared her throat, making sure she didn't look at Haymitch.

"Ash, we've talked about this," she told their son. "Mommy and Daddy sleep together, and you're supposed to sleep in your room."

"My room's lonely. Why can't I sleep with you two? I always sleep better with you."

Oh he was good. He looked up at her, pleading. Effie sighed and chanced a glance at Haymitch. He had a scowl on his face, and she mouthed an apology. He whimpered, laying down and turning the other way.

"Only tonight, Ash. Seriously, this has to stop."

Ash grinned and snuggled next to his mother.

He was asleep in seconds.

Effie waited until she heard Ash's soft snores before she sneakily slid away from him. She tiptoed around to Haymitch's side of the bed. He was still awake and she smiled, motioning for him to follow her.

He did as she was told without asking or arguing, and she led him to the bathroom, keeping the door slightly ajar.

"You haven't been inside of me for a _month_ and I can't take it," she whispered, walking up to him. "I wish we could take our time, but we can't. So just pick me up, put me on the sink, and have your way with me."

Haymitch didn't need telling twice. He was all over her. The moan he elicited from her damn near had him cumming right then and there. He lifted her nightdress over her head.

"We don't have time for this," hissed Effie. "He'll wake up—"

"I haven't seen you naked in a month." His mouth was on hers before she could argue, and she lost her train of thought. She lost all her thoughts. She melted into him and could feel him through his night pants. Her hands acted on their own accord and gripped him. He groaned into her mouth. "You dirty little minx," he growled.

"I want _you_ naked," said Effie. "Please. God please."

Haymitch undid his pants and she slipped them off of him. She immediately lowered herself to him and he gripped her hair, struggling for balance. He cursed as the pleasure began to overwhelm him.

God the things she could do with that mouth. It wasn't just for telling off.

"Effie," he warned, and she backed away. He wouldn't be able to make it to the sink, so he just slammed her against the wall. They both paused for a few moments, making sure that Ash was still asleep. When they didn't hear him stir he slid into her, covering her mouth.

It was the right call, because she let out a moan louder than ever. He buried his face in her neck as she wrapped her legs tightly around him. It was so unlike anything they'd really been able to do since bringing Ash home. Long gone were the days of bending her over or slamming her against the wall.

Normally they had to sneak upstairs for a quickie while Ash was taking a nap or at school.

He hadn't realized how much he missed this. The rush of it all, plus the slight chance that they might get caught…. It was _thrilling_ , and Effie seemed to agree with the way her body was responding.

After a few thrusts she came, and even his kisses couldn't silence her cries. He followed closely behind, his breath rugged.

They both slid down to the floor for several shaky moments until they could finally move. They redressed in silence and made their way back to bed, Effie climbing in first and sliding in next to Ash, Haymitch behind her. He wrapped his arms around Ash and Effie and they fell asleep.

 _ **TWO MONTHS LATER**_

"What in the hell did you eat, Princess?" asked Haymitch, brushing Effie's hair out of the way.

"I don't know," she moaned. With shaking hands she grabbed a piece of tissue and wiped her mouth. "How on earth did you do this every day? Throwing up is awful."

Haymitch snorted. "Come on. Up you get." He helped her up to the sink where she rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash—again—and then they made their way to the bed. "You've been throwing up for two days. If you're not better by tomorrow, I'm taking you to the doctor."

"Haymitch, no," whined Effie. "I hate the hospital, you know that. Obviously I just caught a bug. I'll be fine tomorrow."

"You said that two yesterdays ago." Haymitch helped her into bed. "I'm not arguing with you."

He was worried, she realized, so she sighed and closed her eyes. She couldn't argue. She was _tired_. More than tired, really, she was exhausted. She'd been feeling this way for _weeks_.

At that moment there was a soft knock on the door. Peeta was there, in the doorway. Haymitch waved him in and brushed Effie's arm, a small frown on his face. Peeta laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder as Haymitch made his way downstairs.

"Hey," said the baker. Effie gave him a weak smile. "You're still not feeling well, I see. Ash misses you."

"I know," pouted Effie. "I hate not being with him, but I don't want him to catch whatever it is I have."

"It's the weather. It got colder quicker this year," Peeta said, sitting on the bed.

"How's Katniss?"

"Much like you," grinned Peeta.

"What do you mean?"

"She's bedridden too. She's been getting morning sickness. She's late, actually. We thought she might miss that train, but apparently not."

"Has she been having cravings?"

"Anything with chocolate, which makes no sense. I don't think I've ever seen her eat chocolate before."

"You know what sounds _amazing_? Raisin bread."

Peeta laughed. "Please don't tell me Katniss' cravings are rubbing off on you."

"This is the first time I've craved food in days. _Please_ go make some. Peeta you have to. I need it."

"Okay," Peeta said, clearly amused. He stood up and headed towards the door. "You sound an awful like Katniss. Maybe you're experiencing her pregnancy symptoms. I read that that can happen sometimes. I thought I'd experience it, but aside from being more tired than usual, I haven't gotten any."

It took Effie a few minutes for Peeta's words to sink in. She sat up, gasping.

No way.

She had to wait a few hours before she finally had to use the bathroom again, but when it was time, she was ready. She found the pack of pregnancy tests she had bought back when she and Haymitch were trying, her hands shaking.

It was the longest two minutes of her life.

When she got the results she thought she might faint.

She ran down the stairs, where Haymitch was watching television.

"Haymitch!" she breathed. "Ash got his wish."

"What?" Haymitch stood up, clearly confused. "I know you didn't find him a dog. What'd you do, look ones up online? Absolutely not, Effie. I'm not sharing our bed with a dog. Can you imagine? There's not enough room as it is."

Effie tried to follow his train of thought. He was bloody insane, the man was.

"Well, we do have to make more room in the bed, Haymitch."

"Woman I'm putting my foot down. No dog." He sat back down, as if that settled the matter. Effie stood there for a few seconds. "Don't think those blue eyes are gonna work on me, Princess. I'm immune to them after this long."

He wasn't, but that was neither here nor there.

She approached the couch and sat on his lap.

"And sex isn't gonna work, either." The slight hitch in his voice proved that wasn't accurate either.

"Actually, sex already worked," she told him with a smile. She reached behind her back and showed him the pregnancy test. "I'm not sick, Haymitch. I'm pregnant."

He stared at her in silence, his eyes never leaving hers. Then they slowly looked at the positive pregnancy test. She didn't know why he kept staring at it. It was pretty self-explanatory. There was a red positive sign.

"Are you sure?" whispered Haymitch. Effie nodded. "I thought you got back on birth control."

"I did. I guess it _was_ meant to be."

Haymitch just kept staring at it until his grey eyes met hers again.

And then he engulfed her in a hug, and kisses, and suddenly Effie was crying, and then she was bringing Haymitch's hand to her stomach, and there were more kisses, some for her, some for their baby.

"We should get a blood test," he told her after a while, and she nodded.

"I can make an appointment with the doctor—"

"No," said Haymitch immediately. "The doctor's in 12 aren't nearly as qualified as they doctor's in the Capitol, but there's no way in hell any of them are touching you." He took a deep breath. "I'm gonna talk to Katniss about bringing her mother home."

Well she hadn't been expecting _that_. Suddenly the mood got a lot more serious.

"But first…." Haymitch pressed his lips to hers. "Congratulations, Princess."

"Are you happy?" whispered Effie. "Is this okay?"

He stared at her, his hand on her cheek. He was scared shitless, he realized, that much was true, but that was okay. If he was used to anything, it was fear. But there was also the way his heart was pounding, and this inability to wipe this giddy smile off of his face. Effie was happy, that was for sure, and when she was happy… he was happy. It took a long time for them to be happy. They didn't have to worry about hiding this one. No one would take him or her away. They wouldn't have to enter any Hunger Game….

"It's more than okay," he finally whispered, and he was surprised at how thick his voice was. He kissed her again, relieved that it was meant to be.


	126. Effie's Type

_Not a Christmas prompt, sadly. Again, not a song fic, just inspiration. Lifehouse 'You and Me.' Also, the Victory Tour is probably my favorite time period, because in my head Haymitch would have known the truth about Effie by then… yet it's the hardest for me to write. Womp._

 _Something about you now_

 _I can't quite figure out_

 _Everything she does is beautiful_

 _Everything she does is right_

 _Cause it's you and me and all of the people_

 _With nothing to do, nothing to lose_

 _And it's you and me and all of the people_

 _And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you_

 **EFFIE'S TYPE**

 **Rated M for language and smut**

Haymitch took a sip of the Capitol liquor, wondering why it couldn't be stronger. For the Capitol to be so rich and self-indulgent, one would think that they would serve the best alcohol available instead of these stupid fruity little drinks that did nothing for him.

He wanted to leave the party and head to a bar, but he knew Effie would have him by the balls if he disappeared. Besides, he needed to be on alert. He wouldn't put it passed Snow to try something, even during the Victory Ball of the latest Hunger Games Victims.

Oops. Victors.

Same difference.

Haymitch took another sip, scanning the crowd. His eyes rested on Plutarch and Katniss dancing, noting the way Plutarch casually—almost too causally—pulled out his Mockingjay watch.

It was obvious Katniss didn't get it, which was a good thing. Completely oblivious, that one was.

He shook his head, his eyes seeing several familiar faces, until he saw who he was looking for.

He wasn't sure why he was looking for her. He just wanted to make sure that she was safe, is all. Which was crazy, figuring she was an Escort, and if there was anybody he shouldn't care about it, it was Effie Trinket.

Only the more he thought about it—and he certainly was thinking about it more—the more he realized he did want to keep her safe, which he proved to everybody by grabbing her first when those gunshots sounded in 11.

Only Effie Trinket didn't exactly need protecting.

She was different. Acting differently. Behaving differently. Dressing differently.

Take tonight for instance. She looked nothing like her ridiculous friends, parading around in colorful wigs. Her wig was pinned up, and strawberry blonde ringlets forced their way into some fancy up-do. That was it. No blue or purple or orange.

And then there was her face. Slightly less makeup than usual. The powder was still there, of course, but the makeup was minimal. She wore false lashes that brought out those artic blue eyes and bright red lipstick that made people wonder exactly what those luscious lips were capable of.

Most surprising of all was her dress, though. It was black and simple. It was long and elegant, and hugged every curve, and it was sleeveless, but there was no flared out bottom or ruffled top or birds or feathers glued on it.

She looked normal.

"If you're going to stare at her all night, you should at least dance with her," Cinna said in his ear.

Haymitch scowled. "I dunno what you're talkin' about," replied Haymitch gruffly.

"Sure," Cinna said sarcastically. "You should ask her. I think she'd like you to."

What did he know?

 _Everything_ , a voice reminded Haymitch, and it was true. Still, he ignored Cinna.

After awhile Cinna shrugged. "Suit yourself. My name's not misery, so I can't say I'm enjoying your company. See you later."

Cinna made his exit and Haymitch followed him with his eyes until the stylist disappeared.

Then he found himself looking at Effie again.

Maybe he _should_ dance with her.

And right when he was about to head across the dance floor, some idiot with bright blue hair made his way up to her.

Haymitch frowned as he watched her accept his invitation. They made their way to the dance floor, and Haymitch suddenly felt this foreign feeling in the pit of his chest. Something that felt almost jealous, and possessive.

After they danced together for about three songs, and Haymitch had swallowed back about six more drinks, he decided he could dance better than that Capitol bimbo, and should put Effie out of her misery.

And then the music changed.

He didn't know what the hell was getting into him. He just felt his urgent need to get to Effie, before it was too late.

Haymitch didn't wait for the song to end. He just walked up to them and stated boldly, "I like to dance with my Escort now."

The blue-haired man—he looked like a Rendwick Thornburn or something—stopped dancing with Effie and looked at Haymitch with the same disdain most Capitol people looked at him with.

Everyone except Effie, Cinna, Portia, and Plutarch.

"I doubt very much she wants to dance with the likes of you," he told Haymitch.

Haymitch had a retort ready when Effie said, "I don't remember you asking what I want, Lapworth."

Ah. Lapworth. Close enough to Rendwick.

Lapworth looked at Effie, blinking rapidly. "Do you want to dance with this…" Lapworth was clearly looking for an offensive word to call Haymitch, but the look on Effie's face had him faltering.

"This what, Lapworth? Former Victor? Quarter Quell winner?" Her voice was quite cold, and both Lapworth and Haymitch stared at Effie in surprise.

"You actually want to dance with this _drunk_?"

The word didn't offend Haymitch in the least. He _was_ a drunk. But Effie stood quite still, glaring at Lapworth for a few moments.

"I do believe you've overstayed your welcome." And right on cue, almost like they were in a movie, or a book, a waiter walked by with a tray of drinks. Effie grabbed one and tossed it in Lapworth's face.

He sputtered, coughing. "You b—"

Haymitch stepped in then. "Careful," he said, his voice icy. "I don't give two fucks about what you have to say about me. But no one calls my Escort out of her name except me. I do believe she's told you that you've overstayed your welcome." Haymitch smiled darkly. "Scram."

Lapworth looked highly offended and stalked off, muttering darkly under his breath.

"Now where was I?" asked Haymitch, facing Effie.

"I believe you were attempting to ask me to dance, though it came across as a demand, and rather rude."

He snorted. "I wasn't asking shit," he said, walking up to her.

"Language, Haymitch," but it was so automatic that it fell on deaf ears. Her hands automatically wrapped around him and he found it much too easy to pull her close to him.

"So tell me, is he your type?" asked Haymitch, and he wondered why he was asking such a thing.

Effie seemed surprised as well, but she humored him. "I don't have a type," she responded.

She was lying. He could tell by the way her heartbeat sped up as she said it.

He dropped the subject, unsure why he'd even brought it up in the first place.

At that moment the music slowed down, and Effie stiffened, ever so slightly. He pulled her closer, and she instantly relaxed. His thumbs automatically brushed the small of her back, and he noted the way her heartbeat sped us again, this time for an entirely different reason. He absentmindedly played with the buttons on the back of her dress.

 _What day is it? And in what month?_

 _This clock never seemed so alive_

 _I can't keep up and I can't back down_

 _I've been losing so much time_

"You're a good dancer," she said after several moments of content silence, and it was a good thing she said something, because strange thoughts started to fill his head, thought about how good she smelled, and how beautiful she looked tonight, and if Lapworth wasn't her type, then who was?

"I had an Escort who taught me how to dance once, too," he responded. "Though she wasn't as good as you."

Effie looked at him, her eyes searching his. He'd never mentioned his Games if he could help it, let alone his Victory. "Is that the last time you danced? At your own Victory Ball?"

He snorted. "I didn't even really dance that night. I hated them then, even then. All of them, in their stupid pink wigs and bright orange dresses and overly done faces. I'd hate every fucking Capitol citizen even if Snow hadn't—"

Haymitch stopped abruptly at the nails digging in his skin. He clamped his mouth shut, realizing he'd just slipped up.

"I was there that night," she told him softly several moments later, and he jerked in her arms. "Only for a little while. I was only thirteen, and wasn't really supposed to be there, but since you were only sixteen my father got me special permission. I was, after all, a celebrity in my own right. All I wanted was a single dance with Haymitch Abernathy, current Victor of a Quarter Quell."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Well twenty-five years later is better late than never. What do you think?" He gave her his most charming smile.

"I think you would have hated me even then, in my pink wig and bright orange dress."

He stopped dancing and stared at her. "Effie, I—"

 _All of the things that I want to say_

 _Just aren't coming out right_

 _I'm tripping on words, you got my head spinning_

 _I don't know where to go from here_

"I'm not offended. But you don't know us all, Haymitch. You can't categorize us all. You have no right to hate me when you don't know me."

"I don't hate you." The lie was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and then he realized it wasn't a lie. He didn't hate her. She was _different_. He just couldn't place _how_.

"Well you certainly don't like me," replied Effie, and he could hear the hurt in her voice. "That's okay. There are times I don't like you either."

Her mask was slipping—and he realized that yes, she had a mask. Her eyes were swirling with sadness, hurt, and something else he couldn't quite place. She gently cupped his cheeks, her hands brushing his stubble.

"Thank you for the dance," she said. "It was everything I ever dreamt it'd be." Her lips on his cheek left him stunned for several moments, and how long he stood there, in the middle of the dance floor, staring long after she had disappeared, was beyond him.

So he did what he did best: found the nearest bar and got trashed.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie made her way to Haymitch's room after she sent everyone off to bed. She wanted to check on him. She walked into his room, closing the door softly behind her. She immediately walked towards him, bending down to slip off his shoes.

"I'm awake," he slurred, and Effie jumped out of her skin.

"You almost just killed me," snapped out Effie, her hand on her chest. "I thought you'd be passed out by now."

"Nope," Haymitch sighed. He reached over and turned on the lamp next to his bedside table, casting a warm, yellow glow around the room. He stood up and made his way towards his bar, pouring himself a healthy amount of brown liquor.

"Well if you're okay, I suppose I'll go ahead and go to bed and bid you goodnight." Haymitch nodded at her and she turned, making her way towards the door. Then, in a split second, she made a decision. "Can you unbutton my dress?"

Haymitch paused for several moments, his glass in midair. He narrowed his eyes at her, but Effie couldn't see because she already had her back facing him. He sat his glass down and slowly walked towards her.

She lifted her hair off of her back, sliding it over her shoulder in an elegant move. He lifted his hand to unfasten the top button when its shape caught his eye.

He stepped back, his heart hammering, wondering if he was drunker than he thought. He scanned the tiny buttons lined along the center of the back of her dress.

Mockingjays.

Every single button, about two dozen or so, forming a straight line down her dress, were miniature mockingjays. He slid his index finger over several of the buttons.

"Effie," was all he was able to breathe out before his legs failed him. His hands snaked their way around her waist, his face buried in her neck. He breathed deeply, trying to remember the art of inhaling and exhaling, as it hit him full in the gut, how and why Effie was different.

She turned around to face him, and he didn't have time to prepare himself before she was out of his arms and turning on the radio.

He blinked at her.

She didn't immediately turn around to face him once the music started. When she did she stared at him for several moments.

"I lied to you earlier." Her voice was soft. "I do have a type." He quickly forgot how to breathe again. "You know what it is?" Haymitch stayed silent as she walked back up to him. She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. "A rebel."

She yanked his tie, forcing him to close the gap between them, and their lips met.

It stunned him how easy it was, how _natural_ it was, to kiss her back.

He concluded that he was drunk out of his mind, that he'd probably regret it in the morning, but for now this was _right_. It felt right. Seemed right. Tasted right.

The sounds they were making sounded right.

Clothes came off.

Masks melted away.

Shirts were unbuttoned.

Dresses fell off.

Pants were unbuckled.

She undid her wig, and sanity was thrown out the window.

"A fucking redhead," he said. "That explains the bloody temper."

She grinned, shaking her real hair loose. "And the excuse for your temper?" she responded.

He had an answer ready, but it was awfully hard to talk when her hands were _there_ , and her teeth were biting his ear, her lips on his neck.

He fucking forgot how to _breathe_.

It was wrong, but _fuck_ it was right, too, and it was too much, yet not enough, and it was more than he could handle, yet he wanted more, so much more. He didn't even know how they'd gotten this far, but when he was grunting out her name, and she was whimpering out his, he realized that there was no better sound in the world, and what had taken them so long to do this in the first place?

Their rhythm was natural. For _once_ he led, and she followed, and they were in sync, much like they always were, though he'd rather be doing _this_ with her than anything else.

Her back arched and she unraveled, and he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from exploding if he tried, because it was honestly the most beautiful sight ever, watching her cum. It was better than seeing the next train arrive with liquor.

The pleasure was short lived.

When he realized what he'd done, an unnatural sense of dread formed its way into the pit of his stomach.

"You can't be a rebel, Effie," he told her, and she sighed.

"I was so hoping we'd be able to enjoy tonight, and have this discussion tomorrow."

He paused. "It can't wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm back in 12 and you're headed back to the Capitol. There's not enough time to—"

"To what? Talk me out of it?" She turned and faced him. "I've made up my mind, and there's nothing you can do to stop me." Her voice held a hint of finality that he knew well. He'd certainly heard it enough over the years.

He reached out touched her jawline. "We fucked up tonight."

"I did," she corrected. "I let my guard down. I don't know why. I was thinking about my schoolgirl crush, I guess, and how I just wanted you to like me…. I guess I wanted to prove I was more than my pink wig and orange dress."

"I hurt your feelings," said Haymitch quietly.

"Yes. You have the ability to hurt me, Haymitch. You'd think I'd be immune to it by now but…." She shrugged.

It was how casually she said it that had him frowning.

"I wasn't necessarily talking about you. You're… different. Now I finally know why."

"We're on the same team, Haymitch. I don't need you to like me. Just stop disliking me."

He stared at her. Most of her makeup was gone. Her face was void of any emotion, aside from the slightest of frowns. But her eyes gave her away.

She genuinely wanted his acceptance.

"I don't think I can do that, Princess."

She stiffened slightly, and he saw the Capitol mask return almost instantly.

He tugged at her hair, smiling softly. "I'm pretty sure I already like you, so I can't possibly dislike you, even if you are a pain in the ass."

She blinked at him. "That, Sir, is rude."

He barked out a laugh, his first real, true, genuine laugh in God knows how long, and it was because of Effie Trinket.

Holy shit.

He watched her for the rest of the night, transfixed at her beauty.

It was easy to forget the time and the place, and the fact that war would probably very likely start. In fact, and he watched her sleep, he thought of the song they had danced to earlier. He found he couldn't remember the day or the month. And as hard as he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

He'd deal with his treason in the morning—and was it treason, if she was a Rebel too? He didn't know. It was something he'd have to figure out, but not tonight, and not right now.

For now, she was a Rebel.

And that was his type, too.


	127. Take Care of Him

_I really think of Chaff and Haymitch as having a bromance, and that's what I wanted this story to come out as. Just some light, airy fun between Haymitch and Chaff. Yah. Didn't happen. This was very nearly angst. I'm depressed LOL. Any Chaff/Haymitch bromance prompts out there?_

 **TAKE CARE OF HIM**

 **Rated K**

A persistent knocking on her front door had Effie startling awake. Her immediate thought was _Peacekeepers_ , but then she realized they wouldn't knock. They'd just barge in. She got out of bed, grabbing her robe, and put it on as she made her way down the hall and to her front door.

The knocking continued, and she could hear a faint shout of 'Effie!" being whispered through the door. She knew that voice. She sped up, unlocking her door, and found herself face-to-face with Chaff, supporting a _very_ drunk—

"Haymitch!" Her heart launched in her throat. She immediately lurched forward as if she could somehow carry him herself.

"I got him," Chaff said. "Just tell me where."

"Are you sure it's safe?" whispered Effie.

"Course I am."

Effie nodded. "Then follow me."

"Beetee's been scoping out and interfering with your apartment since the end of last year's Games," Chaff said conversationally as they made their way to her bedroom. "No one suspects you apparently, because no one's tried anything. We keep watch just to make sure, but you're okay."

"I wasn't worried about _me_ ," hissed Effie. "I meant the fact that the Peacekeepers made it clear no one was supposed to go anywhere after Cinna pulled his little stunt tonight. Shouldn't you have taken him back to the Penthouse?"

"Your apartment was closer. Haymitch's wasted. And most of the Peacekeepers just wanted to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. They left after an hour. Haymitch made it clear he wanted to go out and have one last drink, so…." They reached her room and Effie motioned to her bed. "He got trashed. I think he feels guilty."

Effie sighed as she watched Chaff struggle with putting Haymitch on the bed. She watched him remove Haymitch's knife and put it on top of her dresser, out of his reach.

"He does feel guilty," Effie told him softly. "On one hand he feels guilty because the people he cares about the most are going back into that Arena without him. On the other hand he feels guilty because he's relieved he's _not_ going back."

Chaff took a deep breath once he finally had Haymitch on the bed. "Haymitch would have held his own in the Arena, but he's needed alive. It's too great a risk." He stepped away from Haymitch and approached her. "Plutarch asked us. He could have switched all of our names, but every single one of us volunteered. We knew what we were signing up for. I told Haymitch that tonight, but I'm not sure that made him feel any better."

Chaff glanced at Haymitch, who was sprawled on top of her bed on his back.

"I still remember him during his Games. I was rooting for him from day one. He was such a cocky little shit." He said with such fondness that Effie smiled. "He had a look about him, even then, and I thought to myself, ' _Here's_ a boy who could be shaped into a man who could lead a Rebellion.' I approached him after he'd won, offering my congratulations, and I had attempted to introduce myself, but he cut me off and said, 'You're the rebellious son of a bitch who refused to let the Capitol give you an arm.'" Chaff laughed. "I liked him." Then he sobered up. "I knew I had to warn him, though. I told him that Snow wouldn't like how he'd won, that he was probably in danger, but at that time… there were no Haymitch Abernathy's as an example. He _was_ the example. So I'm not sure he took me seriously."

Effie felt the lump form in her throat. She knew what came next. Everyone knew.

"By the time he got to 11 for the Victory Tour…. He was a shell of the man I had known. But I knew what to do. I pulled him off to the side and told him that one day, things could be different, and that he should use that anger for the greater good. I didn't go into a lot of detail. He'd have to prove himself, which he did over the years. He's brilliant. The way his mind works…." Chaff looked at her. "He's needed outside the Arena."

Effie nodded, blinking away her tears. There was no time for crying. A war was about to start. She needed to be strong.

"Take care of him, Trinket. He cares about you. You mean a lot to him, even if he doesn't always show it. You're not just part of the reason he's fighting, but one of the main reasons. You're at the top of the list. He'll come out of this broken, especially when the death toll rises. But when it's all said and done, don't let him shut you out."

Effie stared at Chaff for several moments and then nodded. She fished for something to say, but for once, words failed her.

At that moment Haymitch moaned out her name. She was by his side in a second, concern written all over her face. She knelt down, her hand moving the hair out of his eyes. Chaff watched her as she whispered to him, her other hand caressing his cheek.

"I'll see myself out, Trinket." He wasn't sure Effie even heard him. It gave him great comfort, the way no one else existed for Effie. His best friend was in good hands.

"Chaff?" Haymitch slurred, just as he was about to leave. Chaff turned around and faced Haymitch. He was sitting up, his eyes glassy. There was a frown on his face, and something that almost resembled sadness in his eyes.

Chaff smiled at his best friend. "It's been an honor, Soldier," said Chaff, saluting Haymitch with his good arm. "I'll see you on the other side, but not too soon." Haymitch didn't respond, and Chaff hadn't expected him to.

Chaff left; content that Haymitch would be all right.

He had someone that would take care of him.


	128. Questions

_My own prompt: Effie and Haymitch have an agreement: whenever she has to take care of him when he's drunk she gets to ask him a question, and he has to answer honestly. I know it doesn't make sense. Just read. You should trust me by now LOL =)_

 **QUESTIONS**

 **Rated K**

" _Why_ did you have to get thrown in jail?" Effie asked, sighing.

"You want the truth, Trinket?" slurred Haymitch as they made their way up the elevator and into their penthouse.

"Yes, actually I do," she snapped out. "I'd love to know why you're so drunk that _I'm_ supporting _you_. I mean we've had our moments over the past five years, but this is _ridiculous_."

"Quit your bitchin," moaned Haymitch. "Your voice is like nails on a chalkboard."

" _Rude_ ," she hissed as she clutched onto him, slowly making her way out of the elevator. "I should have left you in jail."

"So why didn't you?"

"I—" Effie clamped her mouth shut. "I don't honestly know," she lied to both herself and him.

Haymitch snorted. "You're a shitty ass liar, Trinket."

"Language, Haymitch."

He ignored her. They made their way to the rest of his room in silence. She struggled to get through the door, but finally she did. She thought about just letting him fall face down onto the floor, but that wasn't very polite, so she refrained herself and helped him to the bed.

"I owe you one," he said, like he did every time he was still awake to notice the effort she put in to keep him alive.

"You can start by answering my question. _Why_ were you so trashed tonight?"

He looked at her, his eyes bloodshot. "If I answer you will you stop nagging me?"

"Yes."

He sighed and rested his head on his pillow. "Because the nightmares will be worse than ever this year." She stilled and stared at him, but he wouldn't look back at her. She wanted to ask him why, but deep down she already knew.

It was the anniversary of his Games.

"Mine will be too," said Effie softly.

He pretended not hear her.

* * *

"Are you gonna be okay?" she whispered as she stroked his hair. He moaned and found himself over the toilet again, emptying out all the liquor from the night. She handed him a napkin, as was their routine now.

Some days he didn't know if he hated that she was here, other days he didn't know what he'd do without her.

Damn her for making it confusing.

Chaff had told him once that Effie was the only Escort in history that cared.

Haymitch tried not to acknowledge that.

"Is that the question you want me to answer?" It had become a game of sorts with them. Something to ease the tension. It was a way for her to get to know him without him even having to really remember. If it was ever too personal he could always pretend he had been too drunk to remember.

But he was never that drunk, and he always remembered.

She'd asked some pretty personal ones over the past few years, but she'd never crossed any lines. She never asked about his Games, or his nightmares, or his family or girl. His dead family and dead girl.

She did ask him about life in 12 (Shitty, he had said). What kind of liquor he preferred (The darker the better). Why he didn't help their Tributes (Because there was no point in getting his hopes up. Hope was for fools).

And sometimes she made fun of him and asked him stupid, pointless questions, like what his favorite color was (blue, he decided after ten minutes of silence, and he'd told himself it had nothing to do with the color of her eyes), or what his favorite food was from back home (he was partial to squirrel, though deer wasn't too bad).

"That is the question I want you to answer, yes," Effie said, helping him into bed. She moved his hair out of his face. "Are you going to be okay?"

He paused for several moments, remembering their agreement: he was supposed to answer honestly. "I'm never okay, Princess."

* * *

"Why do you call me Princess?"

He frowned as he sat up, the room spinning slightly. She probably had no idea that that was personal. Really personal. Something he hadn't exactly figured out himself yet. Or rather, something he hadn't admitted to himself yet.

"Do you hate it?" he asked.

Her eyebrows shot up into her hair. "I thought _I_ was the one asking the questions," replied Effie.

"New rules. If you get to ask me questions, I get to ask you some too. It's been ten years of this."

She laughed. "Okay, deal." She was humoring him, he knew. She thought he'd forget about his new rule by tomorrow, but he wouldn't, because there were things that he couldn't figure out about her.

Because she _was_ different. And he needed to know _why_.

She sighed and grabbed the trashcan from the bathroom, placing it next to the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, near his feet.

"What would you like to know?"

He studied her. Millions of things ran through his head, and he realized that he actually wanted to know a lot about her.

"I'll answer your question first," he said. "I call you Princess because one night you said you were Beauty and I was the beast."

She stared at him, clearly shocked. She had no idea how or why he remembered that night. She remembered it quite well. It was during one of his many drunken nights, and they were having a fight. Well, what else was new? They were _always_ fighting. She was trying to convince him to change out of his wrinkled suit and into something decent for the party that night, and he was being quite stubborn.

"Why do I need to fucking change?" he had barked.

"Because you look _ridiculous_ ," responded Effie.

"And how do you prefer I look? Like you? Dressed like that?"

"What's wrong with my dress?"

To be honest, nothing was wrong with her dress. It was the first time her attire didn't look like the rest of the Capitol puppets. She had on a simple red dress that looked beautiful on her, and it was the first time he wondered what she looked like under all that cake. It was the first time he noticed her eyes were blue.

It was also the same night blue became his favorite color, though red had come in at a close second.

"Everything," he had finally lied to her.

"You're just jealous, Darling."

"Oh am I? Of what, exactly?" growled Haymitch.

"Because I'm Beauty, and you're the beast," she had retaliated.

He'd snorted and walked away, to change so that he could be _presentable_.

"So I've been Princess since that night? Does that mean you think I'm Beauty?" asked Effie, a small smile on her face. Haymitch snorted but didn't answer. Nor did he deny it. "I had no idea you'd make out the reference."

"Yah, well, I used to like literature and history." She stared at him, and he wished he had another drink. "At least until I became a part of it."

Effie's smile faltered. "Trust me, Haymitch," she whispered, patting his leg. "When everything is all said and done, you'll be on the right side of history."

That had him stiffening, but she pretended not to notice. She stood up and made her way towards his door, intending to leave as if this conversation had never happened.

He didn't let that happen.

"What about you, Princess? What side of history will you be on?" _That_ was his question, he decided.

She froze, her mouth open. She wouldn't turn around and face him, but she would respond to his question, because it would be rude not to answer.

She opened the door and said, "You're my Mentor, Haymitch. We'll fall together, or we'll fly together."

* * *

"Why did you fall off the stage today?" she whispered as she cleaned him up. She had no clue it'd be one of the last questions she'd get to ask him while he was drunk, and if she had known that, she might have asked a different question.

Because honestly she knew why he'd fallen off stage, and Haymitch seemed to know it too.

"Why do you think, Princess?"

 _To distract them_ , thought Effie to herself.

She didn't say anything aloud, though. She just continued to clean his small cut with the towel, and then she wiped his face. She stood up and walked to the bathroom to discard of the towel. She walked back towards him and bent down to look over his face.

"Change out of those clothes so you can look presentable for dinner. It's time to go meet our Volunteer."

"She's different," he blurted out once she'd reached the door.

She paused and turned around to face him. "I know," responded Effie quietly.

"How do you know?"

"Is that the question you want me to answer?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

Effie gave him a half smile. "She reminds me of you, Haymitch." She left it at that, walking out and closing the door behind her.

* * *

"Effie. Wake up." Haymitch shook her awake and Effie sat up, gasping. "Relax. You're okay."

"Was I dreaming?" she mumbled.

He stared at her for a minute. "No. How'd you fall asleep on the couch? Not very proper, is it?"

"Oh. Cinna had mentioned how you got into it with Katniss' surgeons. Were you able to persuade them not to touch her?"

"Course I did." Haymitch sat down next to her.

Effie rubbed her face, smearing some of her day old makeup. He wondered what she looked like, for the millionth time, under all that crap.

"I know you're not drunk, but if I ask you a question, will you be honest with me?"

He looked at her, their eyes locking. He wondered if she knew that he'd never lied to her. He might have omitted some things over the years, but he'd never directly lied and given her a false answer to a question. "Of course."

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad are the berries?"

He wasn't surprised. Not anymore. She was… smart…. More than that, she was calculating. He'd picked up on that before, but more than ever this year, with having to be nearly sober the entire Games. It hadn't taken but a few days to see how strategic she was.

"A thirteen, Princess," he finally said.

She stared back at him and then nodded her head. "Do you have a question you'd like to ask me?"

He hesitated, briefly. "Are you a Rebel, Effie?"

She stood, taking special care to straighten up her dress and wig before answering. "I don't know what I am, Haymitch. What I do know… is that I've spent enough time watching the Games destroy people." She gently touched his arm as she passed him. "Get some rest, Haymitch. The sun's up."

* * *

"Haymitch? Are you okay?" Effie poked her head through his door and then walked inside.

"Is that your question?" He was standing at the bar, which surprised her, figuring two Capitols had carried him in earlier.

"Of course not." She closed the door behind her. "I always ask you that."

"And I always tell you that I'm never okay."

She sat on his bed and he shifted slightly to give her enough room. "You survived the Victory Tour. You'll be home soon." Her voice was soft.

"Can't get home fast enough, Trinket," he slurred.

She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. She could do that now, even if it did make him slightly uncomfortable still. Maybe he was drunk enough to not care as much, because he squeezed her hand back.

Then he yanked her to him. She stumbled into his chest but he held her up with surprising strength for someone who was supposed to be drunk.

"Dance with me," whispered Haymitch. He reached up and turned on his radio. She thought he had just needed a reason to turn on the radio, but he actually secured his arms back around her.

"We already danced together tonight," she murmured.

"Is that a complaint?"

She held him a little tighter. "Not in a million years."

They swayed together, and she thought it was perfect, because his jacket was discarded, his shirt halfway undone, his tie loose around his neck. And she was still dressed in her mask, her wig, and the same gold dress she wore earlier.

Still beauty and the beast.

"You really are a prince, you know."

"What?"

"Underneath the hardened exterior, underneath the beast. There's a prince somewhere in there."

He snorted, burying his face in her neck. "You're unbelievably corny sometimes, Princess." They swayed together in silence for a few minutes. "I know what question I want to ask you."

"The game is played when you're drunk. You sir, are not drunk."

"I'm drunkish," he argued, and she laughed. "Will you let me see you? Without the wig and makeup?"

She stiffened and backed away. "Isn't that… crossing a line? That's extremely personal, Haymitch."

"Well I desperately want to sleep with you, but I can't do that with you looking like this."

Effie stilled, and blushed. "You did before."

They hadn't ever talked about that night, on their way back to 12 after Katniss and Peeta had won. They'd definitely slept together though, and he'd stayed the night. They woke up next to each other.

It was slightly awkward, but they'd gotten passed it, probably because it was the best night of their lives.

At least hers. She assumed it was a good night for him too. He certainly woke her up enough times.

"I was drunk," was his answer, with a smirk no less.

"All three times?"

"Yes. Absolutely. All night. Definitely."

Effie laughed again. "All right, Haymitch."

She left, to go get naked for him.

* * *

Haymitch wasn't around much for the photo shoot. He found he'd rather drink himself into a stupor. So much shit was going on, and sometimes it was just easier to drink it away.

He wasn't sure if she'd seek him out, but he wasn't surprised when she did.

"Hello, Haymitch."

"Princess," he said, toasting his glass in the air towards her. "What're you doin' here?"

"Is that your question?" asked Effie with a smile, walking up to him.

"Is that your hair or is the liquor playin' tricks on me? Is that _orange_?"

"Look at you, knowing colors and things."

He glared at her, though his mouth was upturned. "Funny, Trinket. Real amusing." She gave him a small smile, and then frowned. "What now? You just got here."

"You're not taking care of yourself," she told him, glancing around. "Or our Tributes. It's so obvious they're at odds. Peeta is heartbroken. Katniss is confused." She approached him and gently took the glass away from his hand and took a sip of it. She cringed. "That is awful."

"You're just weak, Princess. Leave the hard stuff for the men. You stick to the drinks that are the same color as your hair."

"Rude," tsked Effie.

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Cinna poked his head through. "Hey, Haymitch." Haymitch jerked his head. "Effie, we're leaving."

"Okay," she said softly. When he was gone she turned back to him. "I should go." He nodded. "I expect more from you, Haymitch. Do better."

She turned and walked towards the door.

"You're not my Escort anymore, Effie. You've got two new Mentors now. Boss them around."

"Haymitch, you couldn't get rid of me that easily if you tried. Wherever this… situation takes us, our Game is not over, Mr. Abernathy."

He smirked at her. "You sure you're not a Rebel? _That's_ my question."

"Darling, I stand with the Districts." Haymitch's breath caught in his throat. "I stand with you, Haymitch. Always. That means I stand with our Mockingjay. So by extension, I stand with the Revolution. I'll see you at the Reaping."

* * *

"Will you come with me?" he asked her urgently, his voice strained. It was last minute, unexpected, and the words came out of his mouth without him giving his mouth permission.

Effie reached out and touched his cheek. "You know I can't."

"Effie—"

"I can't, Haymitch. You know that was never a part of the plan. I have to finish out my role here."

He grabbed another glass, pouring the contents of alcohol and drinking it, knowing he wouldn't have access to it in 13. Effie let him drink his fill, and then pushed him towards the door.

"I'm not good at goodbyes, Effie."

"Then I'll see you later, when this is all over." She pulled him to her and kissed him, softly, gently, not like the kisses they normally shared. The rushed ones, the desperate ones, the comforting ones.

"That didn't feel like see you later."

"I'd love to be able to argue with you, but you're running out of time. You need to go."

He pulled her to him and kissed her again. "Take care of yourself, Princess."

"You too. And take care of our Mockingjay." They stared at each other for a few more minutes, and the question was on the tip of her tongue. He must have sensed it, though, because suddenly he was backing away. He left her with nothing more than a gentle squeeze, and then he was gone, without a backwards glance, because it'd be too hard for both of them.

She realized he never let her ask her question. She wondered if it was because for the first time, he'd have lied to her.

* * *

"Can I come in?"

He was drunk out of his mind when he opened the door to find her standing on his doorstep, and he was so shocked that he couldn't answer. He just moved aside and let her step in.

"Are you real?" he whispered.

"Is that your question?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Because if you're real, that means I get to spend the rest of my life asking you questions."

"Then my question for you is, does that mean you love me?"

He gripped her waist, burying his face in her neck. "Of course it does, Princess," he whispered.

She sagged with relief.

"Do you know how many times I wanted to ask you that?" She felt her knees buckle, and he tightened his grip on her. He helped her inside, discarding her bag near the door.

She'd ask him a million questions a day, he learned, because that's who Effie was.

But she never had to question if he loved her.

 _One of my favorites. Hope you all enjoyed too._


	129. My Patronus is a Mockingjay

_Posting twice tonight, because I love you all LOL. Here's the final chapter for the HP/HG crossover. (Chapters 90 and 116). Keep in mind: no Patronus is a Mockingjay. The title is just to bridge the two worlds. This title is not original either._

 _Also, though I do love Reviews saying how much you all love Loosen Your Corset, I haven't had a lot of prompts lately. Either you guys are sick of the story or are as out of ideas as I am LOL. I had one person PM me that they saw a prompt from another fic story and wanted me to write the same prompt. At first I was against it, but then I realized that sometimes other people's stories prompt prompts. I'll keep thinking about it._

 _Anyway, ENJOY!_

 **MY PATRONUS IS A MOCKINGJAY**

 **Rated M for smut**

He cursed softly into the night, both surprised and relieved that he didn't bloody splinch himself. He actually forgot he had added on several layers of security measures to her flat.

"Who is it? Who's there?" If he wasn't still slightly dizzy he'd have smiled with pride. Her voice was calm, and he could see that her wand was steady.

"It's me," responded Haymitch, still trying to catch his breath.

"How do I know it's you? What's your code word?"

"'Loosen your Corset, Princess,'" Haymitch said with a smirk, and he heard Effie sigh with relief.

"I still hate that," muttered Effie, and he could hear the annoyance in her voice as she walked down the stairs. Haymitch snorted and smiled fondly at the memory. It was what he had told her at the first Order meeting he'd gone to, when she'd been all uptight and angry with him.

She'd flushed beautifully and it'd actually made his pants tighten a little, to see her looking so flustered. It'd shocked the hell out of him, because he'd never been _that_ attracted to her. His body had never betrayed him before, and he had made sure he'd kept himself properly covered.

When the light turned on she gasped, her heart lurching.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he said immediately. "I'm fine."

"What happened?" She rushed up to him, gently touching the few bruises on his face, and frowning at his split lip. When she touched his cut lip he hissed, and he used the pain to distract him from the fact that Effie was currently standing a foot away from him in bloody _lingerie_. She was covered, but barely. "I'm sorry," whispered Effie at his hiss. "So what happened?"

He paused, but knew he had to give it to her straight. If he did what he'd done last time, gently breaking it down, like he'd done for Dumbledore's death, he knew she'd be inconsolable.

"Scrimgeour is dead. The Ministry has fallen." She froze and blinked at him, stiffening. "They raided the Weasley Wedding, but no one was killed. Kinglsey had managed to send his Patronus just in time."

"And Harry—"

"The Golden Trio Disapperated. They're on the run."

She paused for another moment. "It's starting."

Haymitch nodded. "Yes. The Second War is coming."

Effie took a deep, calming breath. "Come on. Let's get you fixed up, and then I need to send a message to Kingsley."

Haymitch allowed himself to be taken upstairs and into her bedroom, where she sat him on her bed. He'd never been up here before. The sexual tension had only grown between them since he'd realized she wasn't strictly a Ministry puppet. They had taken special care not to cross any line, though, because they were colleagues, and together they were already overly emotional towards one another as it was.

She disappeared into her bathroom and he took the opportunity to look around. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it. Her bedroom was… practical. Nothing at all like her office at the Ministry, all pink and lace and flowers and _girly_. Here the colors were warm and sensible, much like the rest of her house, which had shocked the hell out of him as well. He'd only been to her place a handful of times, and he had realized there was still a lot to learn about Effie Trinket.

When she returned she had put on her robe. He tried to hide his disappointment. She sat down next to him and his breath caught in his throat. She pointed her wand at his cuts, muttering several different incantations.

"All better," she said quietly when she was finished.

Their eyes locked for a few moments, and he was pretty sure he was about to kiss her, when she stood up, clearing her throat and immediately heading to her desk. She started fishing around for a few seconds and then she grabbed her quill and started writing.

"When do you leave?" asked Effie, folding the paper and turning around.

"Leave?"

Effie rolled her eyes. "Do you honestly think I don't know you? Of course you're going to fight in this war. I know Dumbledore left you special instructions to take on Death Eaters. You have to kill as many as you can. I know that."

"He told you?" She shook her head. "How'd you know then?"

She smiled at him. "You just told me." Sometimes he could really be stupid. "So when are you leaving?"

"Couple of days at the latest." She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna send my message to Kingslsey. He's expecting it." Haymitch nodded.

His mouth dropped open as she created her Patronus, and he stared, too stunned to move as its shape turned from mist to a full-blown Corporeal Patronus.

He'd never seen it before. She had flat out refused to let him when he'd come to her apartment after visiting Dumbledore two years ago, and he'd tried every now and then ever since, but to no avail. It'd been a good year since he'd asked her though.

He couldn't believe it.

A lioness. Fierce. Stunning. Beautiful.

" _Haymitch_!" Her sharp voice bought him back to reality. He shook his head and blinked at her in surprise. She was right in front of him, staring at him with concern. "Are you all right? Did you get hit over the head or anything? You blacked out for a minute. I've been calling you for _ages_."

"Your Patronus is a lioness," he said.

She blinked rapidly at him. "Look at you, knowing your animals. Next thing you know you'll know your shapes and colors too."

"Don't _joke_ , Trinket," snapped Haymitch.

"What's the matter?"

He looked at her, really looked at her, seeing her for the first time. "You ever seen my Patronus?"

"Of course I have. I saw it a few months ago when you sent your message to the Order."

"You know what it is then?"

"Yes, you toe rag. I told you I was in Ravenclaw. I know my animals quite well, thank you very much." She was making jokes when his heart was hammering with something he couldn't quite place. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He stood up and pointed an accusing finger at her. "My Patronus is a lion, Effie."

"Yes, Haymitch, I _know_."

"Are you really that thick? My Patronus is a lion, and yours is lioness!" She stilled, very suddenly, her eyes wide, her mouth open. A faint blush crept up her cheeks. "You knew! Is that why you never showed me your Patronus when I asked?"

"I can't believe I bloody forgot," she murmured. He inhaled sharply.

She looked at him. Even with his bruises fading he looked better than she'd ever remembered. Ever since the Ministry had officially announced that Voldermort was back he hadn't been drinking as much. He was healthier and more in shape than ever. He was still just as handsome as when he'd been Quidditch Captain.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, Haymitch," Effie finally stated. She made to walk passed him but he grabbed her.

"But it means something to you, doesn't it?"

She could lie to him, but what would be the point? He was so damned good at Occlumency he could read her like a book. Of _course_ it meant something to her. When a person's Patronus ended up matching like that it normally only meant one thing: that the two people were soulmates.

"Yes," she breathed quietly, and then she wrestled out of his grip and walked away.

"Why the hell didn't you ever say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say? 'Hey Haymitch, I noticed your Patronus matched mine, turns out we're soulmates.'" She scoffed. "Please. Besides, how was I supposed to know you believed in things like that?"

The fact that she hadn't turned around once to look at him had him frowning.

"I _don't_ believe in things like that."

She stiffened, ever so slightly, but when she turned back around she had her Ministry mask back in place. "Good. Then like I said, it doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter, because _you_ fucking believe in shit like that." He rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly feeling like he was a million years old. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you fucking been in love with me?" She clamped her mouth shut, her face flushing beautifully, and he felt his heart relocate to his stomach. "How _long_ , Effie?" How had he not picked up on it? Then again he hadn't picked up on the fact that she was a double agent, either.

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't." He walked up to her in two strides and grabbed her, his lips on hers. She seemed too stunned to move at first, and then her body responded. He felt himself jerk as the lust whipped through his body, and suddenly his pants were tighter than ever. She tasted familiar, and smelled familiar too. Like something he smelled once, a long time ago, during potions class at Hogwarts during his sixth year. "This is stupid," he said against her lips. "So fucking stupid." His hands acted on their own accord ran up and down her back. "I'm gonna regret this in the morning I just know it."

Her fingers made their way to his shirt and she started unbuttoning it at rapid speed. His own hands made the way to her breasts. She groaned at the contact, cursing softly, and it turned him on so much that he grabbed his wand and muttered an incantation that had them both naked in seconds.

"My aren't we in a rush?" she said. If she had been making fun of him it failed epically. Her taunt came out breathless and slightly desperate. He yanked her to him, his lips finding hers again. This time she was eager, and she quickly took over.

"I've waned you for so fucking long," said Haymitch throatily, his lips on her ear.

"Prove it," she said bossily.

"So demanding."

"Always."

They didn't make it to the bed. He picked her up, slamming her against the wall. She barely had time to mumble out the contraceptive spell before he was inside of her, his strokes deep, relentless, and hard. She whimpered, securing her legs around his waist.

"Oh, Merlin," she gasped out.

"Haymitch," he grunted out. "My name is Haymitch." She dug her nails into his back and he sped up, already close. Too close. He should think of something else, anything, really, to get his mind off of _how fucking good_ she was, before he came right then and there.

The desire to do this with her for the rest of his life startled him, but he couldn't stop the thoughts. He could get used to this, he realized. She was _incredible_ and she wanted him, just as badly as he wanted her. What did that mean? She was everything to him, he comprehended. He had come _here_ first, hadn't he? He'd Disapparated from the wedding and had come straight here.

"You know I'll come back for you, right?" he grumbled out. "When it's all over and done?"

"Yes," whispered Effie. "Yes, yes, yes."

He spilled himself into her just as she clenched around him, and he swore to Merlin the sensation was better than Quidditch and Firewhiskey combined. With some kind of strength he didn't know he possessed he made his way to the bed, her body still draped around him.

He was convinced he was going to stay here forever.

He really shouldn't. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But he'd never been all that smart—intelligent, yes, but smart, no—so he stayed, because he'd already told himself he'd regret this in the morning, and it was still twilight. They still had several hours yet to be foolish, and foolish they were, because after a few more minutes she was on top of him, riding him like a centaur, and he was spent, utterly spent, but he couldn't stop.

They didn't drift off until morning, where somehow his hands slid around her waist, his face buried in her hair.

 _Fuck_ he was in deep.

"Stay alive," he told her when he finally left, where he was surprised he was still able to _stand_.

When he found her in Azkaban, shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd been so furious he'd have gone toe to toe with anybody. The Chosen One himself wouldn't have been able to cure his wrath. He took Effie home—her apartment undamaged—where she basically crawled into a hole to die. She told him to leave after a few weeks, that she didn't want to see him anymore, and it broke the little heart he had left, but he'd respect her wishes.

When she found _him_ , a year later, he was one drink away from liver failure. He was so drunk he thought he she was a hallucination. She'd gotten him to St. Mungo's, and it was there he thought he might really die.

She made him keep his will to live, when she showed him a simple Patronus.

It was still a lioness.

 _I got several requests to keep this going, and I might. I truly, genuinely love Harry Potter, so getting to combine these worlds was SO much fun. With that said, if you want more HP/HG crossovers, I'd need suggestions. I wrote this to be a three-shot, but if you guys want more, I'm okay with that. Also, there is a Christmas one I'm writing. Anyway, I'm open to suggestions/prompts for this universe. Leave it in a Review!_


	130. As Far as Goodbyes Go

_FIRST MJ2 SPOILER! Missing scene, the morning of their goodbye kiss._

 **AS FAR AS GOODBYES GO**

 **Rated M**

He woke up to find Effie entangled around him, her naked body pressed against his. He found he couldn't move for fear of waking her, but he was okay with that. He was content on watching her sleep, grateful that the sun was bright enough to highlight her features: gorgeous blonde hair, tiny nose, perfect skin, and pouty lips that he'd grown quite fond of kissing.

He traced her face with his thumb, softly, but apparently not softly enough. She stirred, moaning softly, her blue eyes blinking awake and meeting his. He gave her a lazy smirk and she shifted slightly.

Her hand snaked their way around him to his neck, and he pulled his face down. Her lips were needy against his, and he responded in kind, instantly hardening. His tongue forced its way into her mouth and she granted him access. She slithered on top of him and his breath caught in his throat.

Haymitch entered her, wrapping his arms around her waist, her legs on either side of him. Effie buried her face in his neck for several moments as she rode him, her breath quickening.

"Is _this_ goodbye sex?" she whispered, and he stiffened, pushing her away so that he could look at her. She'd asked him that question once before, and he stared at her as she continued to move against him.

"It doesn't have to be," grunted out Haymitch.

"I don't want it to be," she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

"Effie." He slid his hands up to her face and she shifted so that she was sitting up as she rode him fully. She removed his hands and clasped them with hers, speeding up. Her breasts bounced in the process, momentarily distracting him.

She clung to him tightly, gasping softly as her first orgasm slid out of her. She seemed surprised, and she looked at him, frowning slightly. And then the frown was gone, and her eyes fluttered shut as she sped up, her hands dropping down to his chest.

Normally by now he'd flip her over, but she needed the control he realized, so he let her be, transfixed at watching her. She panted, slamming herself against him, palming his chest, and when another orgasm broke through she dug her fingers into him, triggering his own release.

He stuttered out her name a good one million times before she collapsed on top of him.

Her body trembling wasn't from her own orgasm.

"Don't cry, Princess," he muttered, burying his face in her neck. "Please." He immediately sat up, cradling her nearly like a child, and she linked her legs around his waist, forcing him to stay inside of her.

"I don't want you to leave."

"It's not goodbye forever," stated Haymitch firmly. "You _know_ that. You know how I feel about you."

"The war is over, Haymitch. You will go back to 12, and all the eligible ladies will follow you, because they all want you."

She was talking nonsense, so he snorted. "You sound bloody ridiculous."

"I'm _serious_ Haymitch. You have a commitment-phobia, I am too into you." She took a deep breath. "I always have been."

"I'm not afraid of being committed to you," he snapped, slightly offended. "Before it was _dangerous_ , Effie. They'd have _killed_ you. Surely you know that by now."

"So your hatred towards me was what, an act?"

"Effie what are you on about?" She mewled and buried her face into his neck. "Talk to me."

"I'm your Escort, Haymitch."

He froze, and then he started to push her away. She didn't seem to want to let go, though, and she chained herself around him by tightening her hold on his neck and locking her legs at her ankles while around his waist.

"You're not my Escort anymore," he told her firmly. "You're a Rebel. And I don't give a damn who thinks what."

She stayed quiet for several moments. "So this isn't goodbye?"

" _No_ ," said Haymitch definitely. "This is _not_ goodbye. In fact if this _is_ goodbye, I will be quite _fucking_ pissed. I expect you to call me every day, and I'll complain about it, because that's who I am, but when things settle down, I expect you to come and visit. Every weekend will do just nicely, and I'll screw your brains out, we'll argue, and then we'll make up, and I'll screw your brains out again."

She pushed him back and looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. " _Must_ you be so crass?"

It was a typical line, in a not-so-typical situation, but it made him relax nonetheless. He sighed, pulling her to him, wishing he could say the words, but he didn't think they'd help. Telling her he was in love with her would _really_ make her think it was goodbye.

"It's not goodbye," he repeated even more firmly. " _Somebody_ has to bring Peeta back, yah?"

She sniffed. "Yes, I suppose so."

She was still troubled, he realize. "Now what?"

"There are women who want you, Haymitch. I only saw a handful of them in 13, but people will be settling down in different Districts, and they all want you. I _know_ they do. I see the way they look at you, I'm not _blind_."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "What kinda man do you take me for?"

"An eligible bachelor with an excellent resume who probably doesn't need all that much convincing to be reminded that _I was the one who picked the names_."

He clamped his mouth shut and scowled. "Who's the insecure one here, Princess? What will I have to say to convince you I don't fucking _care_ anymore? No one better not say _shit_ about you to me, okay, or they will bloody well feel my wrath."

She looked at him for several moments, and he defiantly stared back. Then she was all over him again, her hips moving until he was hard as a rock. His head fell back as the pleasure took over, and after she came the first time he gripped her and flipped her over.

He didn't have long, he knew. He had to get ready, and make sure Katniss was ready, plus say goodbye to Peeta, and have a talk with Paylor about making sure only the _right_ kind of people made their way to 12.

But for now, he was enjoying his last time with Effie _in the Capitol_ , because he wouldn't be coming back here. He couldn't tell her that eventually he expected her to stay with him. Not yet, though that was the end game. For now he just enjoyed himself, and the way she felt.

He _still_ didn't know what magic 13 held to have made them get to this point, but it didn't matter. They were _here_.

He kept his eyes glued to her, watching her as he pleased her. She was wildly beautiful, he realized, and he knew that, but he was really taking in every feature, every _thing_ , that he could now that this _was_ goodbye.

The way she gasped whenever he touched that spot right _there_.

The way she bit her lip when he sped up.

The way her eyes fluttered close whenever she arched her back.

The way she sighed when he kissed her.

The way she smiled when he whispered her name.

Her hips lifted off the bed and met his, fiercely, and… possessively, he realized. She was his, and he was hers, and he was okay with that. He growled, grabbing her hands and lifting them above her head so that her hands were behind her. Their flesh slapped together as they met each other's thrusts.

He was pretty sure the entire mansion heard them as they came, but he thought it was worth it. He spilled himself into her, stuttering out incoherent words that were a mixture of her name and every four-letter curse word under the sun.

She gave him a final kiss that tasted too much like salty tears, and very nearly felt too much like a final goodbye.

"Don't look back, okay?" It had become their custom, a demand she had stated when he'd left to 2, and he nodded his understanding. He quickly got dressed as she wrapped herself back into the bed. He gave her another kiss, because he _liked_ kissing her.

He didn't give the room, or Effie, one last sweep. He just walked towards the door, opened it, and left.

He took a deep breath once the door was closed, leaning against it. It was harder than he thought, and he blamed Effie. But it wasn't forever. The only goodbye that was forever was death. He knew that better than anyone.

So even though he was leaving, and she'd be staying, it wasn't their first rodeo. They'd said goodbye to each other before. And this one, though sad, would _not_ be forever, so as far as he was concerned, this goodbye was okay, as far as goodbyes go.


	131. Of Love and Trust

_Hey, so originally for these fics, I decided right off that Haymitch would never return to the Capitol. But lately I've been getting some Reviews for my Everlark fic Rise From the Ashes, so I'm re-reading it, and in that story I have Haymitch returning to the Capitol after everything, and a few creative juices started flowing…. So if there are any requests for Haymitch returning to the Capitol post MJ, I think I'm down for the cause LOL. I've kind of got a few ideas already. Anyway, enjoy this VERY random one-shot that came to mind a few weeks ago and I couldn't rest until I wrote it. All those Christmas prompts I asked for will be posted soon, I promise._

 **OF LOVE AND TRUST**

 **Rated T**

"So Effie's still with that guy then?" Haymitch ignored Finnick and threw back another shot. He could feel the boy's eyes burning on his back but he didn't turn around. Instead he ordered another drink, immediately throwing that one back as soon as he got his hands on it.

"Don't talk about it, boy," said Chaff to Finnick. "It's quite a sore spot for Haymitch."

"It's not either," Haymitch snapped, facing his best friend. Chaff snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You're jealous, Haymitch, and it's obvious."

"Am not." Haymitch turned around and ordered another drink, because he _was_ jealous, but he'd eat a box of nails before he ever admitted it. He probably gave himself away as he turned around and glanced back at Effie for the zillionth time that night.

He could feel Chaff's smirk and he scowled, ignoring his best friend. He found Effie easily enough. He always could, even when he wasn't… _jealous_. Her ability to stand out to him in a crowd full of Capitols was still quite confusing, and most of the time he ignored it. Besides, usually she was talking to Sponsors or something of the sort.

Not this time. She _was_ still with the Capitol bastard, his hair magenta, and Haymitch decided it was _not_ a manly look on him. He was tall, and skinny, with blue eyes that looked too much like Effie's, though his were probably altered.

He didn't like him. At all. None of them did, but especially Haymitch. He hated his fucking guts, actually, though he couldn't place why. It was much more than jealousy. The parrot was off, from head to toe. He was bad news, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why Effie couldn't see it. She was _smart_ , his Escort, so why she'd waste her time with him was beyond Haymitch.

"She'll get rid of him soon enough," said Seeder, standing next to him, as if she could read his mind.

"For the millionth time," Haymitch snapped, "I'm not fucking jealous of who's with my fucking Escort."

"I heard you when you lied the first time," grinned Seeder, and Haymitch ignored her, keeping his Seam eyes glued to the magenta wig. His name was _Septomius_ and if _that_ wasn't the stupidest name he'd ever heard on a man he didn't know what was. Just on that alone Effie should have kept walking. The name sounded snakelike and didn't help Haymitch with his unpinned dislike.

He had just taken another sip of his dark liquor when he narrowed his eyes at Septomius as Effie handed him her glass and turned her attention to Coral. Normally his eyes would be on his Escort and 6's Escort, because the two of them definitely had a history, but his heart was hammering and his stomach filled with dread.

Something was off.

The whole thing was off.

Namely the way Septomius' smile dropped the minute Effie's attention was somewhere else.

And then Septomius reached into his pocket, opened a package, and discarded something into Effie's drink.

He thought maybe he was imagining it, because he _hated_ the son of a bitch, but when Chaff and Finnick both appeared next to him, he knew he hadn't imagined shit. Their mouths were open, and they were checking to see if he'd noticed.

He didn't think about it. He _couldn't_ think about it. He just handed his glass off to Chaff and started making his way through the crowd, anger consuming his soul, his face set. He sped up as he saw Coral walk off. Effie turned back around, batting her stupid pink eyelashes at Magenta Man, whose smile resembled that of a Cheshire cat. He handed Effie her glass back, and he thought he might not reach her in time.

"Effie!" Haymitch's voice carried through the music, and she looked around until her eyes rested on his.

She _must_ have noticed the look on his face because she frowned. She headed towards him, and he felt the relief. The minute he approached her he grabbed her wine glass, dumped it, and kept walking.

The anger that made his way through his veins scared even him, particularly with how easy it was for him to lose control. He grabbed Septomius, pushing him against a table full of food.

He blacked out almost instantly, and he wasn't aware of what he had done until he felt two people grabbing him roughly. He knew almost immediately that they were Peacekeepers, and the first thing he'd wondered was if he'd killed the man.

Things were hazy at first, and all he could see was a blur of people gathered around. The first person he saw clearly was Effie, and then he noticed Chaff, Finnick, Seeder, and Johanna. Effie was pale and trembling, her eyes shockingly blue against the white of her skin. Surprisingly enough she overstepped Septomius and walked up to Haymitch and the Peacekeepers.

"Let him go," she said immediately to the Peacekeeper.

"This man is under arrest. He just attacked Septomius Cornelli."

"That man is Haymitch Abernathy. He is a Quarter Quell Victor. Let him go _now_."

"Ms. Trinket, you know your Mentor. You know his reputation. You've been working with him for seventeen years."

"Anything this man has become is a direct result of the Games." Haymitch tried not to flinch at her words. Dangerous. Too dangerous. "Have you ever read up on PTSD or are you too stupid to understand?"

"Trinket," Chaff warned softly, and she spared him a glance before turning back to the Peacekeeper.

"Let my Mentor go. I will not tell you again. That man has never assaulted anyone outside of the Arena a day in his life. If he was doing so now, it was for good reason." Finally her eyes rested on him. "Tell them your good reason." He heard the plea in her voice.

"He slipped something in your drink," Haymitch said immediately, and he willed her to believe him, because he realized he had no proof. None. Unless….

"He… _what_?"

"He slipped something in your drink," said Finnick, stepping forward. "I saw him. So did Chaff, and so did Haymitch."

If possible, Effie paled even more. She turned towards Septomius, who was passed out on the table. Haymitch wondered again if he'd killed him. There was blood everywhere, and he definitely wasn't moving.

"What are you talking about, Haymitch?" asked Effie. Her voice was shaking.

"Check his pockets," Haymitch said.

Effie didn't move, but Chaff did. He walked over to Septomius and dug around in his pocket. After a few seconds he pulled out a single packet, opened. Chaff walked over to the Peacekeeper and handed him the package.

"Rohypnol," Chaff said, his voice grim.

The Peacekeepers immediately let Haymitch go. They looked at Septomius, and then looked back at Haymitch. "You better learn to control that temper, Victor Abernathy. No matter the reason, we don't take too kindly to violence here." Haymitch refrained from smirking at the irony of that statement, though the Peacekeepers probably wouldn't have noticed as they turned away from Haymitch and talked to the other Peacekeeper. "We need to get him to a hospital." He turned to Effie. "Do you want to press charges?"

Haymitch looked at Effie as she stayed silent and knew at once Effie was going into shock.

"Put him in jail," Haymitch told the Peacekeeper, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around Effie. "She'll be up there in the morning." He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her forward, heading towards the Penthouse. Chaff and Finnick were behind him.

"What the fuck happened?" hissed Johanna, falling in line next to them.

"Not now," Haymitch barked, and he sped up, trying to keep his temper in check. They made their way up the block, walking into the Penthouse, and immediately headed towards the elevator.

"Is she gonna be okay?" asked Finnick. Haymitch nodded curtly and walked onto the elevator, jabbing the twelfth floor.

"Talk to me, Princess," Haymitch demanded immediately once they were alone. "You mad?"

"I… He…." She was shaking, so he wrapped his arms around her. It wasn't something he'd have ever done, except they were… _complicated_ seemed too civil of a word. They were something deep enough for him to be jealous of her boyfriend, and angry enough to kill the bastard for attempting to bring her harm.

"What happened? You've been dating him for what, a year now? Did you guys have a fight and you've been holding out on him?"

"No. We've… I mean I've never…." Her voice trailed off and he gaped at her.

"You haven't slept with him yet?"

"I don't _love_ him, Haymitch! We… I mean…" Effie frowned. "I don't love him, and despite what you _think_ you know about us Capitols, we're not all whores who jump into bed with any and everybody."

Her voice still didn't have its usual heat reserved just for him, so he pulled her closer. Her trembling didn't stop, so when the elevator door opened he guided her to the couch, where he told her to sit, and he walked over to bar and poured them glasses of white liquor.

"Here." He shoved the drink at her and she accepted it, her hands shaking.

He felt the dread in his stomach and tried to ignore it as he sat down next to her. He finished off his drink, and then forced the glass to Effie's mouth, making her take a sip.

"You're angry," she said to him.

Her admission had him stiffening. He stood up, intent on pouring himself another drink, except he ended up throwing the glass against the wall. "What the _fuck_ were you thinking dating someone like him? He's not even your type." He cringed at himself. Not her fault. He was blaming the victim, and he shouldn't be. Yet he couldn't stop himself from saying, "You're smarter than this."

Effie frowned, and then sighed. "He was… convenient, I think. My parents have been pressuring me to get married. I'm not exactly _young_ anymore, and I can't be a bloody Escort for the rest of my life."

"So you're what… jus' gonna settle?"

"I don't think you're in a place to offer me relationship advice, Haymitch." Her voice had a slight edge to it that had him frowning.

"I'm angry at him, not at you," and he couldn't figure out he if he was telling her or himself. Probably both. "I didn't like him. None of us did. Not even Jo, and you know how… strange your relationship is with her."

Effie gripped her glass and then took another sip. After a mouthful she looked up at him. "Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

"What the fuck was I supposed to say?"

" _Anything_ , Haymitch. You're my _Mentor_. Aside from that we're… I mean…." She huffed and then bit her lip, staring at him. "I trust you, Haymitch. Do you realize you've been the most consistent man in my life? Aside from my brother and father I haven't known any man longer. I _trust_ you. I trust Finnick, and Chaff, and Seeder. Even Jo." She stood up, finishing of her glass. She slammed it down on the table. "You should have told me."

She started to walk away, and he thought she was off to her room, but instead she walked up to him. His breath caught in his throat when she stood in front of him.

He couldn't decide if he was surprised or not when she kissed him.

Nor could he decide if he was surprised or not when he ended up in her bed, undressing her.

"You're still distraught, Effie," he told her, even as he unzipped her dress. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

His hands weren't helping her decision in the least, but she knew her answer. "I trust you, Haymitch."

She shouldn't, he reasoned, even as he slid into her, because he was definitely planning forbidden things behind her back, even right at this moment, and he _hated_ himself, because as he moaned her name he realized he was fighting for a war where they could trust each other openly.

He didn't have time for this. He didn't have time to dwell on the fact that she'd been with a man for a year and hadn't slept with him because she didn't love him, yet he was moving inside of her _right fucking now_ , so what the hell did that mean?

He couldn't think about it.

He _wouldn't_ think about it.

But he couldn't help but wonder if love and trust were synonyms in Effie's mind.


	132. Not Some Doll

_Saw a commercial where the woman made the statement: "I'm not some doll with pretty blue eyes, shiny blonde hair, and cute little everything… with a perfect house, and a perfect blouse. And he's no cute little pony." Uhhhh can you say Hayffie?! That one quote inspired this one-shot._

 **NOT SOME DOLL**

 **Rated M**

The first time Haymitch ever met Effie Trinket he thought she looked like a doll: pretty blue eyes, shiny blonde hair, and curves in all the right places. She was _hot_ , he realized, and this was before the poufy dresses were in style, so she wore a simple sheath dress, because that's what the occasion called for.

He'd never in his life found himself attracted to a Capitol before, and he was shocked at first, his mouth open, as she waltzed into his house. He actually gaped at her, too stunned to even _hear_ her, and her outstretched hand went unshaken.

He should have known right then and there that they wouldn't really get along. She'd called him the rudest individual she'd ever met, and dropped her hand to her side.

It was then that he remembered she was his Escort, and refused to be attracted to her on that principle alone, so he'd given her his meanest snarl and stated,

"Whatever you say, Doll."

She'd arched an eyebrow, and flushed an entirely too beautiful shade of red. He started to walk – stumble – passed her, but she'd grabbed his arm, her voice low. "Don't ever call me Doll, or you will certainly regret it, Mr. Abernathy. I don't care if you've killed eight people in that Arena, you will show me respect."

He'd been surprised. Nobody had threatened him in _years_. He blinked at her, wondering who this blonde haired, blue-eyed girl thought she was, to be able to talk to _him_ like this.

"Let me tell you how this goes," he snapped back, " _I'm_ the Victor, you're the stupid Escort, and you do what I say. First rule: don't _ever_ fucking mention my Games. Rule two: don't try to match my wits. You'll only hurt yourself."

"You want my respect I suggest you earn some yourself."

He'd never had an Escort talk back to him, and he scowled. "I don't want your respect, and don't expect me to respect you. That's rule number three. You pick the names. You ain't too high on my _respect_ list."

" _Aren't_ ," she corrected. "And we'll have plenty of time to discuss how much we _don't_ like each other later. Right now I need you to go upstairs and shower so that we can be on time for the Reaping."

Haymitch sighed. "I'm not going."

"Oh, yes you are," she said, her eyes turning into slits. "I know about your reputation. I know my successor couldn't control you, but I'm Effie Trinket, and I'll tell you now: you _will_ fall in line. Whether it be the easy way or the hard way is up to you."

"You're as fucking stupid as you look."

" _Language_ , Mr. Abernathy. Now get upstairs and shower. We're already behind schedule." She actually marched up to him, pushing him towards his stairs.

"Don't _touch_ me," spat Haymitch.

She glared at him, and he glared back. "I've heard about your… choice of beverage." She looked around his house, noting the bottles on the floor. "If you behave yourself I'll send you a bottle of the Capitol's best liquor."

The bribe had him stilling and staring at her in a new light. He should have known then Effie Trinket was different. It should have been his first real clue, but he was drunk, and by the time he made it to the Capitol he wouldn't even _remember_ this moment, at least not for several more years.

"I don't get into bed with Capitols," was his response, no matter how tempting the offer. "I don't make deals with the likes of you." Yet he'd fond himself heading upstairs just to shut her up, only he nearly pushed her down the stairs when he realized she was following him. "What are you doing?"

"Well it's obvious I can't depend on you to look presentable." She looked him over with her blue eyes. "You definitely have no clue how to put together an outfit, and it's clear that you need my help. While you're in the shower, I shall find you something suitable to wear." When he didn't move she stepped around him and headed upstairs without him. When he finally joined her inside his own room she was already in his closet, muttering to herself. "I shall bring you new clothes next year. These are outdated."

"You won't make it to next year," vowed Haymitch.

Effie stilled at that and turned a beady eye to him. "You, Sir, are rude beyond measure. That much I know. But you know _nothing_ about me. I do not give up, not even on drunken, hopeless cases. Now enough chit chat. Today is a big, big day. Get in the shower. Your clothes will be hanging on the door for you when you're finished since your bed is obviously too soiled."

With that she went back to searching his closet.

"Oh, and Haymitch?"

" _What_?"

"You've got fifteen minutes, or I'm coming in there after you."

Strangely enough, he believed her, and he hadn't believed in something in a long time.

It should have been clue number two that she was different.

 _He_ was the one who was shocked when he'd actually made his way downstairs, clean and dressed. She didn't seem surprised at all. In fact she was already by the door, tapping her heeled foot impatiently.

"You're one minute late. Do hurry up. We need to be to the stage in exactly—"

"Shut _up_ , Doll," he drawled and she stiffened again.

She walked up to him, her blue eyes frosting over to ice. "You may call Effie. You may call me Ms. Trinket. You can call me your Escort. But _don't_ call me Doll. I am nobody's doll. I will not repeat myself. Let's _go_."

The rest of the trip was a blur, aside from when they arrived in the Capitol. He'd never remembered so many people for them. They all cheered, and Haymitch could barely make out their chants in his drunken haze. It took him a while to realize they were calling for Effie.

"Who _are_ you?" he asked her.

"I'm a model," stated Effie, blushing slightly. On cue someone actually broke through security. Haymitch shifted, yanking Effie out of the way. It was reflexes, he told himself later on, before he drowned himself in a bottle to help him forget.

Even though it was replayed over the news for _years_.

The man yelled out that he just wanted Effie to sign his Pin-Up Magazine, but by that point Peacekeepers had gotten ahold of the guy. Effie had immediately stepped up to them, demanding that they let the boy go. She signed the magazine, flashed him a brilliant smile, and they were off again.

Even that didn't prove how different she was, nor did the way she froze when their Tributes died thirty seconds in. The fact that she had tears in her eyes, her lip trembling, didn't really register. He'd long been drunk by then. He told her to suck it up and get used to it, if she really planned on staying long.

Even when a bottle of the Capitol's finest liquor was delivered to his door, year after year, despite the fact that as time passed they began to hate each other, so much so that he actually wondered if she would poison the liquor she sent, he refused to admit that she was _different_.

* * *

He stopped calling her Doll after she took his liquor and smashed it against the wall.

He gave her that round. They'd gone back and forth for the past three years, and he was in the lead, but she wasn't too far behind.

Breaking his bottles because he'd called her Doll had made them even.

It took her another ten years for her to tell him it was because her mother used to force her to play with dolls growing up. As a kid she liked rolling around in dirt and getting her hands dirty, until her mother told her that it wasn't proper, and switched out her sneakers for heels, and her action figures for dolls. A few years later she was modeling at ten.

Six years after she'd been his Escort, one year after his Game's anniversary, and exactly three hundred and sixty-two days after she'd arrived at the Penthouse so drunk _he_ had to take care of _her_ , he found himself back in the Capitol, and more people aligned than ever.

"What is it this time?" muttered Haymitch.

"It's me. It's… my first public appearance since I quit modeling." _And broke up with Seneca_ , she added to herself. She could feel him staring at her, almost inquisitively, but she stared straight ahead.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile on.

"Talk to me, Princess," he had demanded, but she just shook her head.

Something had changed between last year and this year. They could both feel it, though if they would act out on it had yet to be seen. He supposed things were already changing. She allowed him to call her Princess, something he'd snorted out when she'd walked inside of his house this year to get him ready for the Reaping.

Her dress had been purple, big, and blinding, but it suited her, even though he'd never tell her that.

It wouldn't be until they were on their Victory Tour that he'd call her beautiful for the first time.

They'd been screwing for ten years by then.

It would take him years to remember those first few years with Effie. If anybody ever asked him when it had changed he always thought about the 60th Hunger Games. Finding her drunk out of her mind had been the best thing for them. He'd realized that she was human at that moment.

It wouldn't be until a couple of years after the war where he'd mysteriously remember those first years. It was after they'd made love—and he could genuinely call it that now, making love, and he could admit that, because they'd been _making love_ for years, but saying it would be like eating nails.

She'd be breathless, and he'd have to wait until his voice returned, because every time he was inside of her it literally took his breath away. She snuggled into him, and _that_ still took some getting used to—him, cuddling. Granted he liked the way she felt in his arms, and normally if he held her long enough he could get her to go another round—not that she took much convincing.

That night was nothing special. The stars weren't aligned. There was no full moon. She wouldn't look at him any differently than she had done the night before, or the night before that.

He would simply just remember a young Escort, and how'd she'd gotten under his skin from day one.

"That was amazing, Doll," he told her, and she looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

"Do you remember when I used to call you Doll?"

"God," groaned Effie, burying her face in his chest. "You were _so_ insufferable. I had to smash all your liquor to get you to stop."

"Wasn't the last time, either." Anytime she wanted her way she used to break his bottles. That didn't work anymore, though. There were no bottles to break.

"I'm glad you finally learned your lesson."

He kissed the top of her head. "You were right."

"I'm right a lot, Haymitch. Care to be more specific?"

He snorted. "About not being some Doll." She'd survived a war with him, survived being neglected in a cell for months. Effie Trinket definitely was no doll. "But I'm glad you're my Princess."

Effie kissed him, a smile on her lips. "Always."


	133. Visiting Hours

" _Awesome-sauce! But who is Ava? I got Ember she is the kid sister? The one Ash asked for? Now you gotta give me the moment Ash meets Ember! Please :) –Happy5"_

 _I HAD to move this up because I've written a million stories about this Universe, and I have a Christmas one I want to post, and you need to be introduced to some very important people in order for it to make sense._

 **VISITNG HOURS**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch quietly made his way into the room, Ash close behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realize that Effie was awake. She smiled at him the minute she saw him, her hand at her lips as a way to tell them to be quiet. Then she ushered them in.

He felt his heart return to its normal speed now that he was here. He'd been sleeping at the hospital for the past two nights, but he'd finally left to go shower and change and bring Ash back with him.

It'd be the first time he'd be meeting his little sister.

Haymitch bent down and gave Effie a soft kiss. She seemed to have missed him, though, because she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He granted her access, his heart hammering for an entirely different reason now, and had to pull away to stop himself from moaning.

"How are you, Princess?" asked Haymitch.

"Much better now that you're here." Her voice was soft, because their daughter was next to her, in her own little bassinet. "And _you're_ here!" Effie reached out for Ash and he approached the bed. "I know why you're here," Effie grinned.

"To meet my sister!" stated Ash.

"Yes. But first, we have to talk. Did your father explain to you how important it is to be a big brother?" Ash nodded. "What did he say?"

"He said I have a really big job. That I have to look out for her and help take care of her, and to keep her away from boys."

Effie glanced at Haymitch, amused, and he shrugged, his face sheepish.

"Well your father's right. Being a big brother is a _very_ big deal, and it's also about leading by example. You have to be a good person so that your sister can look up to you and do just as well, if not better. You're to help her, and show her what is right. She should be the number one girl in your life, forever." Ash stared at his mother, absorbing everything. "Do you think you could handle that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's a good boy," whispered Effie. She looked up and met Haymitch's eye. With a single nod he made his way over to his daughter's bed, his breath catching in his throat.

It hadn't been a difficult pregnancy. Not like with Katniss, who freaked out after she'd first felt Willow kick. Effie had been _thrilled_ about this pregnancy, and she'd been overwhelmed with joy. It was him who'd had a hard time shaking the fear. He could practically feel Katniss' fear, because he was going through the same thing. At some point Effie and Peeta started spending more time together so that they could gloat without him and Katniss bringing them down.

It wasn't that he wasn't _happy_. He was. But he'd only known fear for most of his life, and he wasn't used to this newfound freedom and joy.

He'd never wanted a bottle so badly in his life.

But he'd stayed sober, mainly because he wasn't living for himself anymore, but Ash, and Effie, and the baby growing inside of Effie. Effie tried to be sympathetic, but after he'd told her to never apologize again for getting pregnant, she couldn't contain her excitement.

He definitely had his own moments though. Their child kicking for the first time had had the opposite affect on him as it had on Katniss. When Effie startled awake, grabbing his hand so that he could feel her stomach, he thought for the first time in his life he might actually cry.

But _somebody_ had had to stay strong for her, because she was a bumbling mess.

After a few weeks every time he touched Effie's belly his little Angel would kick. Effie started fussing at him because every night he'd wrap his arms around her and the baby would start kicking, and she _never_ got any sleep, but he'd always been a little bit selfish. After reminding her that _she'd_ gotten all these moments with Ash, she sucked it up, but after awhile he realized she needed her rest.

But even pregnant it was hard to keep his hands off of her, in more ways than one.

It was the same with Effie. He didn't know what the correlation was between pregnancy and sex, but he was grateful for it.

Just like he was grateful for the tiny doll in his arms.

He thought he had to be luckiest man alive to have this little bundle of joy. He gently picked her up, cradling her, and fell even more in love with her. She was such a darling little thing, a perfect match between him and Effie, at least in looks. Where ash was dark and blue, this little girl—his Angel—had dirty blonde hair that was just as curly as his, and grey-blue eyes, just like him and Effie. She would be a daddy's girl, he'd already claimed, and she seemed to be in agreement with the way she blinked open her eyes at his touch.

Haymitch knew it was impossible, but he could have _sworn_ his Angel smiled at him.

"Hey, Angel," whispered Haymitch. "You ready to meet your older brother?" He glanced at Ash as he walked by his side. "Can you climb on Mommy's hospital bed without squishing her?" Ash nodded and got in the bed, scooting next to his mother.

"There's room for you too, Daddy."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow, glancing at Effie. She smiled and nodded.

"Well I doubt this is very proper," he grinned, and he climbed in next to Ash. When he was comfortable he handed his daughter to his son.

The reverence on Ash's face was priceless. His eyes widened and he stared at her for several moments. The two seemed to have a moment—they seemed to recognize each other almost. It was magical, and seemed much more like Christmas than early May.

"She's perfect," breathed Ash.

Effie's lip quivered, her eyes welling. "Yes, she is."

Haymitch cleared his throat and spoke softly. "I'd like you to meet Ash," he said to his daughter. Again, he could have sworn she smiled. "And Ash, I'd like you to meet Ava."

 _She was wrong about who's who—Ava is the sister Ash requested. SURPRISE! You'll have to wait around to find out who Ember is =)_


	134. The Surprise Guest

" _A little while back you were asking about Chaff (or just mentioned him, idk a lots going on at this time of year) soooooo, I would love love LOVE a story with Chaff in Thirteen. That he lives to make it to Thirteen. I don't mind if all three of them are there (Haymitch, Chaff and Effie) or just the two boys. Both options have so much potential to be explored that I can't express how much I just want to read that. So please consider it. :D" –Itsmegetoverit. I moved this up b/c it's her bday, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY_

 **THE SURPRISE GUEST**

 **Rated T+ for language**

He lied back down once Plutarch left Detox, a scowl on his face. A few seconds later the door opened again. Haymitch groaned. "What'd you forget?" asked Haymitch without looking up.

"Don't take that tone with me, mate."

Haymitch frowned and immediately sat up. "What the _fuck_?"

"Now is that any way to greet your oldest friend?"

Haymitch stared at the figure in front of him. He _looked_ like his best friend: dark skin, mischievous brown eyes, and only one good arm. "My oldest friend is _dead_ ," spat Haymitch.

"Aye, that I am," nodded Chaff.

"The what the fuck are you doing here in 13?"

"Couldn't let you have all the fun, could I? What's the point in that? _I_ introduced _you_ to the Rebellion. Did you really think you could leave me behind?" Haymitch just blinked at him as Chaff walked towards his bed. "You look like shit, best friend."

"Yah, well you're _dead_."

"Yah, we've established that." Chaff stared at him, frowning slightly. "I told you to lay off the liquor, didn't I? There are other ways to grieve. Now look at you."

Haymitch scowled. "You sound like my bloody Escort."

Chaff arched an eyebrow. "How is Trinket?" Haymitch shrugged and Chaff grinned. "Don't act like she hasn't been in to visit you every day this week. You screwing her yet?"

" _That_ wouldn't have been your business alive, let alone dead."

"If I'm your best friend, how is not my business?" Haymitch remained quiet. "You've had a hard-on for your Escort since the beginning of time."

"Aw, jealous?"

Chaff snorted. "Yah, actually. Your Escort's _hot_ , and always has been. You had her in your grasp all these years and you've _never_ taken advantage? You're an idiot. I'd have fucked her wig off her head long before Seneca Crane ever did."

"Shut _up_ ," snapped Haymitch.

Chaff snorted. " _Now_ who's jealous?"

"I'm not _jealous_. I've nothing to be jealous about. Effie wouldn't look twice at you."

Chaff shrugged. "True enough. Her panties always get wet whenever you're around. I don't think anyone else _exists_ for Effie when you're around." Haymitch kept his mouth shut, and Chaff looked around. There wasn't much to look at. It was a bare room, with lots of machines ensuring to keep Haymitch together as he went through his withdrawals. It didn't take long for his eyes to lock with Haymitch's again.

Chaff's eyes were dancing with mirth, his lips upturned. " _What_?" snarled Haymitch.

"You sure you ain't fuckin' your Escort yet?"

"Yes, I would bloody well know if I'd slept with Effie Trinket."

"Then why is her headscarf next to your pillow?"

Haymitch cursed and snatched the silk headscarf, thrusting it underneath the cover. He would absolutely not tell Chaff that he'd asked her for something to keep him company while she was away. He'd been both surprised and touched that she'd given him her headscarf.

He blamed it on the lack of alcohol.

"You should honestly just get with her. It'll be a nice distraction from no alcohol."

"You should honestly mind your fucking business."

"You're always so defensive when it comes to Effie. You better be careful. Finnick's lonely, and so is Effie. Who knows what'll happen."

"Don't be a dick. Finnick's _grieving_."

"He won't be for long. You'll come up with some plan sooner or later that'll be brilliant." Haymitch remained silent. "While we're talking about plans, you're gonna have to squash this thing with Katniss."

"No shit."

"You should send her to 12."

"I'm _not_ sending her to 12, at least not without me, and I'm definitely not going back there. Like _ever_."

"She needs to see it."

"What she _needs_ is to stop being a pain in the ass."

"She needs you."

"She needs Peeta." Haymitch frowned. "Everything's so fucked up, Chaff. If this goes to shit I'm gonna be _pissed_. Mainly because I lost you."

"Hey, I'm finally free now," stated Chaff. "I get you: you need to win this war to be free. But you're gonna need Katniss, so you two need to get it together. And you _know_ her. She's gonna need to see 12, mate." Chaff headed back towards the door. "I gotta go. I'll be seeing a lota you soon. But _you_? I better not see _you_ for some time. Win this bloody war, settle down with Trinket, and try to live happily ever after, aye? Oh, and once you've kicked the habit… _kick_ the habit. I'm out this piece. Oh, by the way, try not to kill Coin. She's a right pain the ass, trust me, I know, and you two are definitely gonna clash. Just use Trinket as a means of distraction. I'm sure I'll see you again. Your hallucinations are no joke."

And with that, Chaff disappeared.

Haymitch vowed that he'd never drink again, if this is what withdrawal felt like.

 _Tried REALLY hard to make this exactly what you wanted, but I failed. I hope you liked it anyway. I'm gonna try to rewrite it and think of a Universe with Chaff alive, but I just think it takes away the dynamic. If Chaff was there, would Haymitch had NEEDED Effie? Who knows? Anyway, I hope you still like it, and happy birthday._

 _Oh, and sidenote, I didn't realize asking for a bromance fic meant no Hayffie, so I HAD to incorporate it, didn't I? Hehe._


	135. A Typical Day in 12

_LOL I find it funny when people say, "Your writing is getting better," or "you're maturing as a writer" because I don't post these one shots in ANY kind of order. So sometimes when you guys say that it's in regards to a fic that I wrote months ago, and might have posted after a more recent one. I just thought I'd share that because every time I read it I laugh. Either my writing is getting WORSE or you guys just like certain stories better. I personally think my writing is the same and you guys just like how the prompt turned out haha. Anyway, this one's not a prompt. It's from my own head. Enjoy._

 **A TYPICAL DAY IN 12**

 **Rated T**

 **-THOM-**

He saw the two of them together, every now and then. He was still getting used to it, but he knew he was one of the few remaining people holding on to the fact that she used to be an Escort. The truth is most people were ready to move on. They didn't care. Those who did care, whose children's names had been picked by her hand, had most likely died in the bombing.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about her. What he did know was that Haymitch was something of a hero in 12. In all of Panem, really, but particularly in 12, because he came back when others couldn't. Others, like Katniss' mom, and Thom vowed he'd never forgive her for going off to 4.

Not after that day he had to rescue her in the woods.

Katniss was a hero as well, and he wanted her safe. He personally thought she'd be safer without Peeta, but he made her happy, and they obviously made each other better. She never came to Town battered and bruised, though there were times people didn't see her for days. Peeta _said_ it was because Katniss slipped away, but sometimes he wondered if a flashback had gotten the best of Peeta Mellark.

Still, who was he to judge? They loved each other, anyone could see that. And if Katniss could love a Mutt, then Haymitch could love his Escort.

He stared at them as they walked passed his house. He still lived in the Seam, but he lived in much better conditions than he had growing up. The Seam wasn't what it used to be. What hadn't changed was the shortcut between Victor's Village and the Town, and Effie and Haymitch took it every Saturday at noon to go and get ice cream.

They weren't overly affectionate. They rarely touched, unless it was getting cooler, and he might wrap his arms around her to keep her warm. But they didn't hold hands or skip into Town or make out like high school teenagers.

But it was something about watching them walk together that made Thom realize he was just a little bit lonely. He didn't have much time for relationships, not with taking college courses and working fulltime at the new and improved coalmine. He hardly ever had time to remember he was lonely until they passed his front window.

They walked like two people completely and totally in sync with each other. Like they were two people who genuinely _got_ each other. It was in the way they could walk and get ice cream without having to say a word to each other, but be totally content in each other's presence.

Every Saturday at noon they passed his window. Even when it was raining, and Haymitch would hold his umbrella over their heads, and they'd make their way to Town.

Just a typical Saturday in 12.

* * *

 _ **-**_ **GREASY SAE-**

"Here you go, boy," said the old woman, hobbling up to him and placing the to-go box down in front of him.

Haymitch tried not to scowl at being called boy—she was the _only_ one who could get away with it, and he figured he couldn't talk, because he definitely still referred to Peeta as boy, even though he was definitely a grown man now.

"Thanks, Sae," Haymitch said, rising out of the booth and grabbing the bag.

"Now hold on a minute there, boy." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "I wanna know somethin', and don't you dare lie to me either." Haymitch stared at her. "You ashamed of your girl?"

Haymitch blinked at her. " _What_?"

"You speak English, boy, and you're younger than me. I know you heard me."

Haymitch didn't take too kindly to being talked to like a child, but he knew Greasy Sae was probably rounding on a hundred and fifty, and even though his mother had been dead for damn near thirty years, she'd still kill him for being rude, so he took her abuse. "Ma'am?"

Greasy Sae huffed. "I'm askin' why you never bring her around. You embarrassed by her or somethin'?"

"Of course not," Haymitch said defensively.

"She's been here for a little over a year now, and I've only seen her a handful of times. If you're not ashamed of her, you should be a proper lad and take her out on a date every now and then. Ordering two boxes of food every Friday night hardly qualifies as date night."

Haymitch had _no clue_ how to respond to that, but apparently that was okay, because she wasn't quite finished with him yet.

"I know the people in this Town. Nobody cares what Effie did anymore. They all saw her trial. And they all know Katniss demanded she be given immunity. And they all know you fought for her. Even those who _do_ care—and there's like _two_ people in all of 12—know that they can't touch Effie. Nobody stands a chance against you and Katniss. Stop bein' so afraid to bring her around here. She can't stay cooped up with you all the time. She needs girlfriends."

"I'm not keeping her cooped up," muttered Haymitch.

"And another thing. You need to marry her." Haymitch froze. "Don't look at me like that. I wasn't born yesterday. You shouldn't have a woman living in your house without marrying her. She loves you, and she deserves a ring. You're old fashioned, I know you boy. Only two things could be holding you back: either you're embarrassed 'cause she used to be an Escort, which don't seem likely, 'cause you've never cared what people thought about you before. I mean everybody in this town has helped you back to Victor's Village as _some_ point in their lives. So the only thing I could think of as to why you haven't married Effie yet is 'cause of Nova."

Haymitch dropped his food, and then quickly bent down and picked it up. When he stood back up Greasy Sae was frowning at him.

"People tend to glorify people in their death, but that Nova… she wasn't your soulmate. I reckon you don't believe in things like that, but take it from someone who's much older: you're better off with Effie. If Nova had stayed alive, you two probably wouldn't be on speaking terms right now."

Haymitch tried to think of something to say—anything, really. Lots of things came to mind: she needed to mind her own business, for one, but nothing came out.

"I know you don't like talkin' about her, but Nova wasn't perfect. Effie aint' etiher, but she's perfect for you. I've never seen anyone successfully get you off the bottle, but you're sober, because you love her. And she loves you. But she can't compete with a ghost. Nova was a spoiled brat, and you know that. She would have driven you up a wall. Stop livin' in the past and go and marry the girl you'd have bought home to your mother. Now go on and get outta here before your food gets cold. You've kept me away from my customers long enough."

He gaped at her, both feeling like a little kid unable to defend himself and like an adult who was trying to respect the elderly.

He finally shook his head and stared walking off.

"And zip up that jacket. It's getting colder out there."

He didn't have to turn around for her to know he was scowling. Oh well. The boy would get over it. She hoped he heard what she was saying. He needed to do right by Effie.

Seeing him around Town without Effie shouldn't be a typical day in 12.

* * *

 **-DELLY-**

Delly turned around at the sound of the bell, indicating that she had a customer. Her eyes immediately brightened at the sight of Effie.

"Hey, Effie." Delly walked forward, and Effie smiled at her. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. How's business?"

"Booming," replied Delly. "Now that we have access to a lot of the shoes from the Capitol everybody keeps asking for special orders. Like someone else I know," Delly grinned.

Effie smiled. "Well a lady needs her heels."

"So I've been told. I still don't see how you walk in those things."

"Buy a pair and I'll teach you one day. If I can teach Katniss, you'll be a piece of cake."

"I might take you up on that." Delly smiled at Effie and looked around. "Your order's out back. Is Haymitch back there or…?"

"Oh, no, dear, he's sick. He's currently asleep."

"Oh." Delly frowned. She never pictured Haymitch sick before. She supposed he was human, then. "I'll go and get your shoes. Wait right here, okay?"

"Sure thing."

Delly turned and walked away, frowning for once. It was kind of weird seeing Effie without Haymitch. They always showed up at her shop, every Tuesday at five, to get her shoe order. She liked seeing them together. It reminded her of things like fairytales and happily-ever-after. She'd never allowed herself to think about things like that. Sure she thought she'd get married one day, but would she _really_ love the person? Now, thanks to people like Haymitch and Katniss, she could love whoever she wanted.

She could only hope she found someone to look at her the way Haymitch looked at Effie.

She was sure even _he_ wasn't aware of how much he adored her. All Delly knew is that the man was sober, and had been for nearly a year, and he'd found a new addiction: Effie. He looked at her the same way he used to look at a good bottle of spirits.

As Delly grabbed the shoebox and handed it off to Effie, who accepted it with a thank you, she realized that it was peculiar seeing one without the other. Effie didn't get out much, but when she did, she was always with Haymitch.

They were inseparable it seemed like.

Seeing them without each other was anything but typical.

* * *

 **-KATNISS-**

Katniss made her way to Haymitch's backyard, where she knew he was feeding his geese, because he always fed his geese at this time.

"Hey," she said to him, and he turned to her, his eyes narrowing as she dropped her bag of game and her bow and made her way over to the swing set and sat down.

"If you and the boy have had another fight, I'm gonna go back to drinking."

Katniss grinned. "No. We're good. Better than good, actually."

"Oh. Right. So what do you want then?"

"Can't I jus' chill with my Mentor for a little while?"

Haymitch snorted. "Suit yourself, kid."

Haymitch went back to feeding his geese and Katniss stared at him out of the corner of her eyes. He looked good. Better than she'd ever seen him, that's for sure. His hair was still long, but it was combed. He had a five o'clock shadow but his beard was trimmed. He'd changed clothes every day, and looked like he showered. He looked _good_.

"It's rude to stare, you know," he snapped at her, and she cringed.

"Sorry."

"Save your sorry and tell me what it is you want."

"I wanna know if you're gonna buy Effie a Valentine's Day gift."

Haymitch dropped the bowl of bread and glared at Katniss. " _What_?"

Katniss shrugged and stood up, walking towards him. "This is the first year Paylor reinstated it, and Peeta's been talking about it…. I know it's not your kinda thing, nor is it mine, but it's the kinda thing Peeta would be into. And if Peeta's into it, then so is Effie."

Haymitch just blinked at her and Katniss huffed.

"You like her, right?" Haymitch stayed silent. "It's kinda obvious you do. Even for me, and I'm blind to that sort of thing. I think we both are. That's why I'm here. To tell you Effie feels the same way, and she's probably the best thing that'll ever happen to your little pathetic life, so you should tell her how you feel and get her something for Valentine's Day."

Haymitch scowled at her. "I don't think I like your tone."

"Yah, well, you're clueless about a lot of things, Haymitch. I'm only tryin' to help you."

"I don't think I need your help."

"If I'm coming here, trust me, you need my help. I _like_ Effie. She's been like a mother to Peeta and I since my own…." Katniss' voice trailed off and Haymitch frowned at her. She rarely talked about her mother. She shook her head, as if to clear it, and her grey eyes rested on his. "Guys in Town are starting to talk about her. She's pretty, y'know? Like… really pretty. She looks like she could be from the Town. Guys dig that."

"Do they now?"

"Yes. I heard them talking about her in the bakery the other day. A couple of them said they wanted to ask her out for Valentine's Day. I thought you should know, because if you don't make a move soon, someone else probably will, and then you'll jus' go back to bein' miserable, old, and alone, and nobody has time for that."

"You start living with the boy and you think you know everything, don't you?"

Katniss sighed. "Why are you so defensive? Why can't you jus' be normal and ask her out?"

"Why can't you marry Peeta?"

That had her shutting up. "At least I'm _trying_. Peeta and I… we get each other now."

"And I don't get Effie?"

"You don't get anything, Haymitch. I don't think you know how much better you are with her. You know she's the only one you listen to? And you're the only one _she_ listens to. You two get each other. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

"Listen, Sweetheart, I don't need relationship advice from you."

"Just get her something nice for Valentine's Day. Or take her out. Let people see you two together. Because if someone takes her, because they realize how special she is and make a move when you didn't, I'm gonna be royally pissed. And I'm not spendin' the rest of my life takin' care of you, not when you had the woman of your dreams right in front of your face and you blew it being _stupid_."

Haymitch had a retort ready when his back door swung open.

"Haymitch can you—" Katniss turned, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Effie.

Dressed in nothing more than Haymitch's shirt.

"Oh, Katniss, dear, I didn't know you were here." Effie moved behind the door to cover herself, but she didn't seem at all embarrassed to have been caught wearing Haymitch's shirt. "Just come inside when you're finished, Haymitch."

"Sure thing, Princess." And then Effie was gone and Haymitch smirked at Katniss. "There. You happy? I'm pretty sure Effie's not goin' anywhere. And if you'd let me _talk_ I'd have told you that I ordered Effie's Valentine's Day gift weeks ago." He smiled smugly at her. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm pretty sure she wants me to bang her brains out."

Katniss flushed. "Haymitch. Please. _Why_ would you tell me that?"

"It serves you right," he told her, barking out a laugh. "Effie's been living with me for six months. We've been screwing for years. Trust me when I say I'm not only good _for_ her, but _to_ her." Katniss thought she might throw up. "Now run along and go pester your boyfriend. Effie and I are fine."

"Aren't you too old for that? Maybe not her. But you definitely are."

"I'm not _that_ old."

Katniss smiled smugly. "You're right. I'm sure when Peeta is your age he'll still be screwing me senseless too."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "Get gone. _Now_."

Discussing sex with each other was never again a typical day in 12.


	136. Something There

_Now forgive me, this might not make any sense as it was definitely born from being sleep deprived and being forced to watch Beauty and the Beast (twice!) with my goddaughters who refused to go to sleep! Anyway, during the second renumeration of the song 'Something there' it struck me that this might just be perfect for Hayffie. It's kind of at the point where they both start seeing each other differently, the lyrics really suit them and I think it's fitting to see Haymitch as a Beast and Effie as the Beauty. The song takes place during the first snow fall (I think) and they play a little in the snow, but I think it would fit the Christmas season all the same. Maybe their decorating a tree in the Tribute Center or something._

 _Anyway, let me know if this makes a modicum of sense to you .I swear it does in my head :) -karmicsamadi86"_

 _I refused to do another song-fic like EVER, so it's not a song-fic. And as I pointed out to_ _karmicsamadi86 they wouldn't have celebrated Christmas together during the Games because those take place in the summer, so I changed it up a bit. Hope you still like it._

 _Also, I'm sad to say that IDT I'll be posting A Panem Christmas Carol. I just can't write the darn thing. I'm so sad, but inspiration never really struck. Maybe it'll change. IDK._

 _Also I really wish I had waited to post 'Of New Kisses and Old Traditions' because I REALLY wanna write a NYE one-shot but I have NO INSPIRATIONNNNN. None. Any ideas?_

 **SOMETHING THERE**

 **Rated T**

She'd walked into his house at some point during the day. He had no clue what time. The days were blurring together. He wasn't even sure how long she'd been here at this point. He did distinctly remember the kids coming to him some time ago stating that Effie was coming to 12, and they'd never said when she was leaving.

He wasn't sure how long it'd been, but he suspected it'd been a few months, and she was still here.

This was the first time she'd visited him.

The kids, apparently, had gone out Christmas shopping – proof again that several months had passed since her arrival, because she'd showed up during the summer, that much he remembered – and had said she couldn't be home when they returned, so after awhile she'd finally walked the few houses down and waltzed into Haymitch's house.

They stared at each other for what felt like an hour, neither of them saying anything.

 _He_ was too stunned to talk, because for the first time, he was looking at the _real_ Effie Trinket. In twenty years of working together he'd never seen her without her wig and makeup or some stupid fancy dress. When he'd found in her that cell, nearly broken, closer to death than ever, he hadn't had the time to take in her true appearance.

 _Now_ , though, even with the drink clouding him, he _saw_ her, and he wondered how he'd ever missed her. She had strawberry blonde hair, currently tied up in a red bow. Her eyes were an astounding shade of blue that rivaled 4's best oceans. Her skin was creamy and smooth, and perfect, even with the line of freckles sprinkled down the bridge of her nose.

He didn't have to ask what she thought of him. He imagined he looked much like he always had: hair much too long, grey eyes much too bright to have seen so much death, face unshaved, clothes unwashed. And he got to add traitor to that list.

She told him that she'd never forgive him for leaving her in the dark, for not confiding in her, for not _trusting_ her. For lying to her. She had asked him a few times, hadn't she? What he'd been up to with all the Victors, and with Cinna and Portia. He'd just given her his signature smirk and simply told her, "Nothing that concerns you."

The Revolution should have concerned her.

How could he tell her he thought he was protecting her? It wasn't _her_ , it was _him_. It was agreed upon, unanimously, that Effie would be safer in the Capitol. It wasn't his fucking _fault_ , but it was, because for once he should have listened to his heart and just taken her with him. Or maybe he should have _said_ something. Perhaps all those months being tortured would have meant something if she had really felt like she was apart of the team.

And it didn't matter that he'd nursed her back to health. It didn't matter that everyone else had nearly given up, Plutarch included, after a few weeks. He kept her alive on his own sheer will alone.

She was thankful, but not very forgiving.

He was much too proud to go to her apartment and _beg_ , so he brought Katniss back to 12 and played babysitter, trying to heal himself in the one thing that would surely kill him.

He didn't know what to expect when she walked into his front door, but silence wasn't it.

Effie Trinket wasn't _quiet_.

"The kids have gone into Town to buy Christmas gifts. They made it quite clear I couldn't be home when they returned. Would I be imposing if I stayed here?" It was polite, it was mannerly, and it was a _fucking pain in his ass_ because he'd rather have her yelling at him, her blue eyes aflame, than have her quiet, her blue eyes radiating with both vacancy and disdain. He had given her a simple shake of her head and those were the last – the _only_ – words she had said.

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out in the silence. She started, her face confused. "I'm sorry I left you, okay?" In twenty years he'd never apologized to her. Not to her face. Not while she was conscious. He'd whispered a thousand apologies while she lay in that hospital bed.

"You think I am upset because you left me." The statement was quiet, and not a question.

"Aren't you? Weren't we a _team_?"

"Yes," whispered Effie, looking down at him. "Yes we were. I am not upset because I was left behind to be tortured. I am upset because you _lied_. Because you refused to see that I would have been on your side." Now she looked at him, and her eyes were fierce. "I would have stood with you, and you didn't see it. You wouldn't see it. You chose not to see me."

He sat his bottle down and attempted to sit up, but she brushed his efforts away with a wave of her hand. "Effie," he sighed.

"Save it, Haymitch. I did not come here for this." She paused. "I just had nowhere else to go."

"So you just… hate me?" He could add her to the long list of people who did. He'd never really cared before. Things were _different_ with her, though.

"I do not hate you, Haymitch." She glanced at him again, her eyes filled with unshed tears she was too stubborn to let fall. "I think my life would be much easier if I did, though."

"You don't hate me?" asked Haymitch skeptically.

"How could I hate you? Because you find it easy to hate _me_? You think I can just hate you in return?" She scoffed. "I _wish_ it were that simple."

"I don't hate you, Effie."

Her eyes flashed and she stood up, glaring at him. "I think you have lied to me enough, Haymitch."

"I'm _not_." This time he succeeded in standing up, hoping to get a good look at her. The room spun a little, but he ignored it.

"Don't give me that. You never saw passed the mask, Haymitch. You never looked deep enough. Cinna and Portia saw, and they only knew me a year. But you? The man I'd worked with, worked for, had no clue. It was _easy_ for me to see the prince inside the beast. I _know_ you, Haymitch. Do you think I was surprised that you ended up being a Rebel?" She barked out a humorous laugh, one he never wanted to hear from her again. "I'd have hated you if you weren't a Rebel. I'd have happily died in that cell if it had meant anything at all to you. If it had helped you see that I chose _you_. But you never saw my beauty. I suppose it was much easier to see me as some wicked witch handing out poisoned apples to children. I'll tell you one thing, Haymitch. You are no Prince Charming. But I was okay with that. You just let me be who you expected me to be, and _that_ , I'm not okay with."

* * *

She'd left, and didn't return for another week. This time when she barged in she didn't immediately appear. In fact his door stood open for so long that he found himself slowly getting up to peak over the back of his couch.

"Be careful. There are bottle everywhere. Just go straight in." Effie's voice was firm, and sounded so much like his old Escort that he almost thought it was the Reaping, only it was still _freezing_ outside.

Suddenly several men appeared. He only knew two of them: Peeta and Thom. The rest of them could be anybody, but he wasn't sure who, and he found himself distracted when he noticed them all hauling in a _tree_.

He waited until they were all gone, most of them ignoring him, aside from Peeta, before saying anything. He looked at Effie, pointed to her, and said, "Explain."

"I decided you need a tree. Your place looks awful. We only have a week until Christmas, and it might be the death of me, but I _will_ get this place clean by then."

He just gaped at her.

"Stop looking so shocked. And Haymitch, if those are the same clothes I saw you in a week ago, I will _lose_ it."

"A week ago you were basically telling me I wasn't shit," he snapped out.

" _Language_ ," snapped back Effie. Then she sort of shrunk under his gaze. "I decided to accept your apology from said week ago." Her voice was quiet, but he found he'd never been more relieved. This weight he hadn't even known he was feeling, the weight that had appeared the minute she'd been released from the hospital and left without ever looking back at him, disappeared almost instantly.

"Don't do me any favors, Princess," he snarled out, but it was only for show. She seemed to know that, because she gave him a small, shy smile.

He felt his heart start to beat properly.

When he came back downstairs she was already cleaning, and without saying a word he started helping her.

"Tomorrow we will decorate the tree," she told him. "I'll go into Town and get the decorations."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.

He could barely conceal his grin.

* * *

"I want it known I absolutely hate you," Effie declared as they walked into the house, shivering

Her words were harsh, but there was something there, he thought. A certain gleam in her eye, a certain smile on her lips. He first thought he saw it the other day when they were decorating the tree, but it had come and gone so quickly that he wasn't exactly sure.

He kept an eye out for it until he was sure.

"You're just mad because you lost."

"I _let_ you win. And don't look so happy. You won a game of snowball fighting. It is nothing to be proud of."

"Then why are you such a sore loser?" She glared at him. "Face it, I won fair and square, and now I get to have an extra flask of liquor." She'd been winging him off. She'd returned from buying Christmas decorations with a gold flask and declared he was only allowed to fill it up four times a day and if he cared at all about his health he wouldn't argue.

He _didn't_ care about his health, but the fact that she did had him agreeing.

Effie huffed. "An extra half a flask."

"Hell no. You agreed to the bet."

"I agreed to allow you an extra flask of liquor. I didn't say I'd allow it all at once. Half a flask today, and another extra one on Christmas. Take it or leave it."

He sighed. " _Fine,_ Princess."

There _it_ was again. Whatever it was… it was definitely something there. She'd never looked at him like that before. Or maybe she had, and he'd been too drunk and blind to notice. He thought he could get used to that look.

He wondered what would happen if he kissed her. He didn't even know why he _wanted_ to kiss her. They'd disliked each other for so long that it just seemed ridiculous.

Yet when the opportunity presented itself, a few hours later, after she declared she wanted a rematch and they found themselves out in the freezing snow again, throwing snowballs at each other, ducking and dodging, and she'd actually _won_ , the bleeding _cheater_ , he tackled her to the ground.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized this was the most contact they'd had in years.

In kissing her he learned that there was definitely something there.

And it was pretty special.


	137. The Nightmare Before Christmas

_Title has NOTHING to do with the movie. It's just a play on words._

 **THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch moaned softly, and then jerked violently. Effie blinked awake when she heard him gasp. She stared at him, her heart hammering, because depending on what she saw would determine on if she needed to sneak out of bed, or if she could comfort him. She frowned when he shivered, and she knew it had nothing to do with the snow falling outside. Not with how well the fireplace was blazing.

He moaned again, his face contorting into rage, and she slithered into him, her arm making its way around his waist. "Haymitch," she whispered softly. Quietly. Non-threateningly. She gently started kissing him, taking special care to touch him in non-threatening places.

"Haymitch," she called again when he stiffened. She kissed his cheek, traveling down to his jaw, making sure she took the same route she always did when they made love. She felt her heart start to beat again when he slowly stared to relax. When her lips found his again he inhaled sharply, his eyelids blinking.

He was trying to wake up.

She took that as her cue, slowly sliding on top of him and deepening the kiss. His hands slithered around her waist and her hand slithered down his leg, gripping him.

"Effie," he finally breathed.

"Good answer," Effie stated with a smile. "If you'd whispered someone else's name…." The joking threat was lost when his lips claimed hers, violently. She gripped him a little harder in shock, and then moaned.

In a swift and practiced move he had her flat on her back. She stared into his eyes and his nightmare was still reflected in them. She cupped his face and kissed him, still softly, even as she felt him harden on her stomach.

"Effie," whispered Haymitch again, and she lay flat, her eyes never leaving his. His countenance was highlighted due to the twinkling lights on the small Christmas tree in their room.

He buried his face into her neck, his hands below them as he lowered his pants and lifted up her shirt and slowly sunk into her. She bit her lip at the sharp pain. He might be going slowly, but he was entering her deeply. He slid all the way out and pushed himself inside of her again, and her eyes fluttered closed. His body was tense as he continued his penetration.

It reminded her of what they used to share, before they cared about each other, and then that thought was gone as he gripped her hand and kissed her in direct contrast to what he was doing inside of her.

He was being brutal, but he was also being tender, and she had told him that she could handle it, all those months ago, when she realized that she could comfort him after a nightmare.

She cried out as he entered her again, willing the pleasure to come. It always did. Sometimes it just took longer, because he wasn't being gentle. It took a few more angry thrusts before the pressure started to ease.

"Relax," he grunted out, and she took a deep breath and did as she was told.

The difference was instant.

He let out a strangled moan when she locked her legs around his waist. She arched her back, her eyes fluttering closed as his strokes deepened even more. It felt good now, though. She moaned softly, realizing she was going to lose control very soon, and very loudly if he kept up like this.

She felt her back arch off of the bed and Haymitch cursed. He whispered out her name, and she followed suit, her eyes opening as she felt him staring at her. Their eyes locked and she wrapped her arms around him. He groaned and embraced her, their bodies slick with sweat.

" _Fuck,_ Effie," he whimpered, and somehow he went faster and deeper. She choked out his name and started meeting his thrusts with urgent ones of her own. She dug her nails into his back, her teeth sinking into his shoulders. He jerked in her arms and growled.

His hands and lips were everywhere after that, and she knew he was close, which was fine, because with those strokes and those _fingers_ and those lips and that _tongue_ she was very much near the edge.

Haymitch sped up again, and Effie could hear their flesh slapping. The bed was squeaking and the headboard was banging against the wall. With relentless fervor Haymitch touched her in all the right places while his hips continued to plummet into her.

She felt it, that delicious bubble in the pit of her stomach. She was close, so close, and Haymitch knew it. He was watching her rapidly, as he touched her and pleased her. His dark grey eyes never left hers as she choked out his name, and he stared at her, transfixed, as his strokes became shallow.

He was good at this, so good at this, making them cum together. At the same time her eyes glowed navy his glowed black, and he spilled himself into her the minute she clenched around him. He knew her, knew how loud she could be, so he kissed her, making sure that they wouldn't wake up all their guests.

Not that they hadn't with their headboard.

Barely breathing and gasping for breath he slowly slid out of her, his heartbeat beating wildly. He didn't immediately slither off of her. Instead he cupped her face gently, kissing her lips and her nose.

"Did I hurt you?" he whispered.

"Of course not," responded Effie.

"I'm sorry," he told her, burying his face in her neck. He inhaled sharply and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Don't be." He breathed deeply and then slowly climbed off of her. Like always she immediately snuggled into his side. She brushed his hair out of his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better."

Effie gave him a faint smile and rested her head on him.

There was a harsh pounding on the door, and then Johanna Mason's voice rang out into the night. "When you invited us all over for Christmas, no one imagined that'd be the gift you got us."

Effie blushed, mortified, as she heard Annie snickering.

"Thank God we let Finn stay with Katniss and Peeta," and Effie and Haymitch could hear the smile in Annie's voice.

"Go to fucking bed," Haymitch snapped.

"We _were_ in bed, up until an hour ago. Be mindful of your houseguests next time," scolded Johanna.

"You're just mad because your Christmas isn't as merry as mine just was." Effie gasped and glared at Haymitch, who shrugged, not at all bothered. Effie sighed and covered her face with the blanket. Haymitch snorted at her embarrassment but wrapped his arms around her.

"Merry Christmas, Princess," he whispered.

She smiled into the night.

Merry Christmas indeed.

 _Wrote this MONTHS ago, it was one of the first ones I wrote. So glad I FINALLY got to post it._


	138. Loosen Your Robe, Have a Firewhiskey

_You guys wanted more of the HP Universe, so here you are. I am excited to say that I can't wait to write more with these…._

 **LOOSEN YOUR ROBE, HAVE A FIREWHISKEY**

 **Rated T**

Life was finally starting to get back to normal. It'd been a couple of years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and he was teaching at Hogwarts now—Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it was officially his second year, so the post was officially no longer cursed. It was his until he didn't want it anymore—or until the Chosen One retired from the Ministry and decided he wanted to teach, and everyone knew which subject he'd excel at. It was inevitable.

By then Haymitch would be a million years old, so it wouldn't matter.

"Haymitch, are you almost ready?" asked Effie softly.

He glanced up at her. She'd changed a lot over the past couple of years. Gone were the extravagant bright wizards robes and tall witches' hats. She wore her real hair and Muggle clothing, but she still wore her heels.

He'd always grown up and lived in Spinner's End. _She_ , of course, was from Godric's Hollow, because she was pureblood, and she hadn't been raised to associate with Muggles. But she wasn't that girl anymore, she seemed to have no problem adjusting to life with him. She was still out of place here, but she was _his_ , so that meant she belonged.

"Yah," he finally said. "I'm just finishing up this recommendation letter for Ms. Granger. Not that she bloody needs it. I don't know _why_ she insisted on going through the application process. Kingsley guaranteed her a job before she even decided to go back to school. Not to mention she's the brightest witch of our age. If she wants to go into law I don't see why she just doesn't _go into law_."

Effie smiled. "I thought she was applying for Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures position."

"She _is_ , but Department of Magical Law Enforcement is her endgame, _trust me_." He finished writing and then signed his name. "All done. I'll drop this off to Kingsley and then we can take our holiday."

"I can think of something we can do first," hummed Effie, walking up to him. His breath caught in his throat but he bypassed her.

"As much as I'd _love_ to, Princess, I gotta drop this off within the next ten minutes. Kingsley's leaving and I can't miss him."

She pouted and he grinned. He gave her a quick, chaste kiss on the lips and then made his way upstairs to grab their suitcases. They would be traveling to the Forest of Dean for a holiday getaway. She had grown accustomed to the Muggle world and didn't want to vacation with anyone magical.

It would be their first Christmas as a married couple.

They made their way to Kingsley's. He had a firm handshake for Haymitch and a warm hug for Effie.

"If possible, you look more radiant than ever. The Ministry still misses you," Kingsley stated. "We could use people like you. _Both_ of you." He stared pointedly at Haymitch.

"Don't be ridiculous. Harry's the greatest Auror we've seen since Moody. He'll go up in ranks in no time. I'd have nothing to teach him. I'm content at Hogwarts. It's a quiet life."

"Yah, now that Harry's gone," snorted Kingsley. He turned back to Effie. "And you?"

"If I decide to, it won't be for a few months yet," Effie stated.

"Then I'll ask you again in a year," grinned Kingsley.

"What are you holiday plans?" Effie asked.

"The Weasley's invited me over. I think either Harry's going to propose to Ginny, or Ron's going to propose to Hermione."

Effie raised her eyebrows. "But they're so young."

"In age, yes, but mentally?"

"Didn't Ginny just sign on with the Harlyhead Harpies?" asked Haymitch.

"Yes. She just became the highest paid female Quidditch player in Europe."

"Well give them our best," Effie stated. "We don't want to make you late, Minister."

"Right, that wouldn't be very proper, now would it? Send me an owl if you want to come back, Effie. The offer still stands, and always will." He had another warm smile for Effie and a goodbye handshake for Haymitch, and then the two of them were off.

* * *

They had decided that they weren't quite ready for magical holidays yet, so they decided to rent a cabin in the Forest of Dean. He had left most of the planning to Effie, so he couldn't say he was all that surprised to find them in front of a large cabin with windows all around.

"Oh it's even better than in the pictures," breathed Effie, and Haymitch refrained from rolling his eyes. Last Christmas she had declared him a Scrooge – she'd watched one Muggle Christmas movie and somehow she found the one that related to him the most – so he was trying really hard to be happy this year figuring it was their first as husband and wife.

It wasn't all that difficult, he realized. He was happier with Effie. Still, he'd never been one to celebrate Christmas, so it was going to take some getting used to.

They walked inside to a cozy living room, despite the fact that it was so large. The fireplace was already blazing and there was a large tree already decorated, set with presents underneath them. He arched an eyebrow at her, amused, and sat the rest of the presents down next to them.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Effie, looking around.

He couldn't argue, so he agreed.

They made their way upstairs, Haymitch taking in the many decorations. They seemed to be everywhere. He could smell the pine as well and knew that they were real.

It nearly reminded him of Hogwarts.

Inside of the room Haymitch sat the bags down while Effie took in every detail, including the miniature tree next to the window.

"I told them not to decorate this tree," Effie stated. "I thought we could do it. You know…" she blushed, and didn't meet his eye, "something to do together as a new Christmas tradition as husband and wife."

He'd never had someone to decorate a tree with, he realized, and he found that he didn't mind making this new tradition. "It sounds like fun, Princess." Her eyes welled with tears and he blinked at her. "What's _wrong_ with you?" She'd been so emotional lately.

"Nothing," she stated, blinking rapidly. "I'm being silly."

"You are. You know what you need to do? Relax. Loosen your wizard's robe, and have a Firewhiskey."

"We do not drink," she reminded him. Haymitch sighed. Couldn't blame a wizard for trying. "But I know something _else_ we could do instead."

She sat on the bed, leaning back, and looked at him, her eyes dancing.

He was pretty sure he'd never gotten undressed faster. Afterwards he tried to figure out a way to convince her to stay in bed the entire trip. He couldn't think of a better Christmas gift.

"What do you think about me returning to the Ministry?" asked Effie.

Haymitch kissed her collarbone. "I think that sounds like you're talking about work, and we're supposed to be vacationing."

"I'm serious, Haymitch." She _was_ serious, she was using that clipped, Ministry tone.

He sighed and looked at her. "If you wanna go back to work, I would never stop you. It's not the same Ministry."

"I don't think I'd mind too terribly. Maybe I can work with Hermione."

"You'd be better suited as Kingsley's personal assistant." He started kissing her shoulder blade.

"Or maybe a direct liaison between the Ministry and Hogwarts. I know Harry and Kingsley are trying to build a better relationship."

"Shouldn't be an issue with Fudge gone." His lips trailed up to her neck.

"Okay." She paused, enjoying the way his lips felt on her. "I think I will go back, but… not for quite sometime."

"Why wait?" Haymitch's voice was low, and she willed herself to keep her concentration. He was doing an _excellent_ job of multi-tasking, which was rare. Normally when he was in the mood – which he definitely was, because she could feel him against her – he could think of nothing else.

Effie took a deep breath. "I have to wait, see, because… because…." Her voice trailed off and she wondered if she should just let him continue. Maybe he'd take the news better if he was high off good sex.

"Because?"

"Well… because…." How could she put this? "We're not exactly alone right now, Haymitch."

He stopped kissing her long enough to look up at her, clearly confused. Even _she_ was confused. What had she meant by that statement?

"Did you invite someone? I thought you wanted to spend our first Christmas _alone_?"

"No, I mean… we're _actually_ alone, but we're not _physically_ alone."

Haymitch just blinked at her, and she couldn't blame him. "Okay, what's wrong? I _know_ you, and you've been acting strange for at least six weeks. You're not unhappy – I've _seen_ you unhappy, I know what it looks like. But _something_ is up. What's all this talk about not being alone and wanting to go back to work, but not right this second?"

"You promise you won't be mad?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Have you cheated on me?"

Effie stiffened. " _What_?"

"Do you want a divorce?"

" _No_!"

Haymitch shrugged. "Then I promise I won't be mad."

She huffed. " _You_ are an _idiot_. An insufferable _idiot_ and I _hate_ you."

"Really? You were screamin' your declarations of love not ten minutes ago." She blushed and he took that as his cue to climb back on top of her, his lips on hers. She kissed him, sighing into his mouth. "Talk to me, Princess."

"Haymitch, I'm pregnant."

He froze. Literally froze: his hands on her breasts, his lips on hers, his body pressing down on hers. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to breathe in three… two… one.

He seemed to move just in time. "What? What did you say?"

She swallowed, looking away from the shock in those bright grey eyes. "I said I'm pregnant," she repeated softly.

"But… _how_?" Effie arched an eyebrow. "Well I mean I know _how_. But… _how_."

"Well when two people love each other—"

"Never mind that, woman." Haymitch sat up and Effie propped herself up on her elbows. "We always use the contraceptive spell."

"Not always," stated Effie. "There have been a few times over the years where we've slipped, the last time during the Halloween Feast. Surely you remember that night. You took me in your office and bent me over your desk…."

He smirked, remembering that night quite well. "You wore the red wizard's robes. They were new, and you hadn't let me see what you were going to wear. I was _drooling_. Couldn't even wait until it was all over." Then he sobered up.

"We've never talked about if we wanted kids or not…." Effie bit her lip, staring up at him.

He rubbed his hands over his face. "I never thought I did. Two years ago… hell, _one_ year ago… _today_ if you'd asked me, I'd have said no." Effie stopped breathing. "But there's this… feeling running through my veins. I've felt it before… when we got married. I'm okay with this, I think. It'll take some getting used to, but…." He took a deep breath. "I think—"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out as she attacked him so forcefully it knocked him back. She was crying and laughing and trying to ride him all that same time.

It made for clumsy sex, but it was celebratory nonetheless.

He found himself breathless, but there was this ridiculous smile on his face that he couldn't quite get rid of.

She'd given him the greatest Christmas gift of all, something he hadn't even known he wanted. She'd made him a _father_.

This would be the happiest Christmas of them all.


	139. All I Want is You This Christmas

_LOL you all are so cute. So… ahem… I've gotten a few prompts for Star Wars/HG crossover and er ummmm IDK how to say this, so I'm just come out and say it: never seen a Star Wars movie in my life. Have never had a desire to see Star Wars. It doesn't look remotely interesting to me in the least LOL. So with that said… I'd like everyone to know the ONLY fantasy I can say I'm a TRUE fan of is HP and HG… And HG more so the movies than the books. Never seen the Lord of the Rings… Divergent I only supported because of Zoey Kravitz… like… don't judge me, but I'm not really a fan of all that. SORRY!_

 _N Sync inspired song/title! Not a song-fic._

 **ALL I WANT IS YOU THIS CHRISTMAS**

 **RATED T**

 _Snowy Night_

 _Where it's warm here by the fire_

 _Here with you (here with you)_

 _I have all that I desire_

 _It's been a long year_

 _But somehow we got by_

 _Now it's Christmas Eve_

 _And love is on our side_

 _I don't need a hundred gifts beneath the tree_

 _Don't you know the best thing you could give to me_

 _Nothin' else will do,_

 _All I want is you this Christmas_

She had told him once that Capitol Effie had died in that cell, but she had lied. He was looking right at her, running around like a wild turkey with her head cut off. She was _insane_ , and was one list away from driving him to drink again.

"No, no, no, _no_ boys. I need it _higher_." The men from Town refrained—barely—from rolling their eyes. They had jumped at the opportunity to earn a little extra cash before the newly reinstated holiday, but they had gotten more than they bargained for when they helped Effie Trinket. "Right… _there_. Oh, it's _perfect_! Thank you." She beamed at them, and Haymitch figured that she had just made it all worth it.

He frowned at that.

Five years together and he still found himself ridiculously possessive of her.

"Thank you so much," Effie beamed, rushing off to the kitchen to grab them mugs of hot chocolate. The men smiled at her, until they caught Haymitch's scowl, and they all quickly cleared their throats and averted their eyes.

After they left Effie walked back inside and immediately walked up to Haymitch, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"You being jealous always gets me in the mood," she told him, pressing her face into his back.

"I'm not _jealous_ ," he spat harshly, and he bit his tongue, because he doubted he was helping his case.

"I know I've been driving you crazy." He snorted. "I have been up all night with my lists and I'm up all day, making sure everything is perfect, but it'll all be worth it. Only one more week until Christmas is here, and I'll be back to normal."

"At least Effie normal," snarled Haymitch.

"I love you too, Darling," she said with a smile, and then she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, and she was off again.

He thought he could survive one more week of this, until she demanded that he go out in the snow and head to the woods and get them a tree. He thought she might have finally cracked, and lost it.

"If you think I'm goin' out there, you got another thing coming, Princess."

She huffed. " _Fine_. I'll call Raphe and have _him_ get me a tree."

Haymitch gaped. "Over my dead body," he growled. "You don't still talk to him, do you?"

"Well he apologized, and he's tried very hard to make it up to me."

Haymitch scowled. "I bet he bloody has." He marched to the kitchen, suddenly annoyed. "Go ahead, then. Call him so your little boy toy can ask how high every time you tell him to bloody jump."

"Do not be ridiculous, Haymitch. He is not my boy toy. He's just _nice_ , and wouldn't mind going out into the woods to get _us_ a tree."

"Well he can go ahead and do so, but he's not coming into _this_ house," he told her darkly.

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" Her voice was quite lethal, and held that air of challenge that _always_ made his bloody boil, in all the _right_ ways. He told his body to control itself. "This isn't just _your_ house, anymore Haymitch. I will very damn well please invite whoever the hell I bloody want here."

He turned to her. "Try me, Effie." He picked up the phone. "Dial his number. Go ahead. Call him, tell him to cut down your tree, and tell him to bring it here. You think you've ever seen me act a plum fool before, try me now. Here, go ahead."

When the clipboard she so desperately clung to found its way near his head he blinked at her. The way she marched up to him told him that she was about to slap him, but anticipating her he grabbed her arm and pushed her against the counter, his lips immediately on her.

"No. I do _not_ want you right now." She tried to push him away.

"No?" he breathed, his lips on her neck, making her body jerk. "That's not what your body is saying."

"Raphe is much better at this."

He growled, gripping her hair and pulling it, forcing her face up so that she was eyelevel with him. "Effie."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." Her hands started undoing his belt buckle at rapid speed. The minute he was able to slip out of his pants he was inside of her. She gasped, her eyes fluttering closed, as she locked her legs tightly around his waist, her hips jerking with pleasure.

He didn't let up or relent, and she found herself too winded to do anything but moan out his name as the orgasm shot through her. He pumped a few more times and then quickly followed, her name on his lips. She crushed her lips to his, and then buried her face in his neck.

She let him pull her down to the floor where she wrapped herself around him.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted a big tree and lots of presents and decorations and the fireplace blazing—"

"Do you really think all that shit matters to me?"

She stayed quiet for several moments, and then said softly, "No. No, of course not." With a soft sigh she untangled herself from him, straightening her dress. She had a small frown on her face and he watched her, now also frowning.

When he stood up—after his legs had decided to start working again—he zipped up his pants and found Effie staring out the window, watching the snow fall. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder when she didn't stiffen against him.

"We've seen so much bad, Haymitch. Most of our lives have been full of death. Somehow we survived that. That _means_ something to me."

"You think it doesn't mean anything to me?" He looked at her in the reflection of the glass.

"Sometimes I don't think anything means anything to you."

He huffed. "Look, Princess, I don't need a hundred gifts beneath a bloody tree, okay? I don't even need the damn tree. If you want the tree, I'll get you the tree, but I don't need it. The only thing I needed was for you to show up on my doorstep, and you did. And I might need Raphe to keel over, or drown in a lake, but other than _that_ , I'm good." Effie turned and faced him, her eyes suspiciously watery. "I don't…." He looked up, out the window again. "You're Christmas enough for me. I don't know what I have to do or say to get you to understand that."

She blinked rapidly. "All you want is me?"

"You're the only thing that's ever been on my wish list, Princess. All I've ever wanted is you."

She let out a small breath and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. She had to figure out how to tell him that he'd have to have room for _one more_ , but for now, she was being selfish, and she would let Haymitch enjoy her.

He still had a good seven months to do so, anyway.

So for now, if all he wanted was her for Christmas, she'd give him that.

 _NOT an Ash universe story, so there will be no sequel. This is just a random one-shot where Effie's pregnant with a different child, and I refuse to make another universe with different children, so take this for what it is and accept it for what it isn't LOL_

 _Also, for those who need a reminder, Raphe is found in Chapter 52 =)_


	140. Someday At Christmas

_Title/song inspiration taken from Stevie Wonder and Andra Day commercial. Saw Andra in concert with Lenny Kravitz—she is QUEEN!_

 **SOMEDAY AT CHRISTMAS**

 **Rated T**

 _Someday at Christmas men won't be boys_

 _Playing with bombs like kids play with toys_

 _One warm December our hearts will see_

 _A world where men are free_

 _Someday at Christmas there'll be no wars_

 _When we have learned what Christmas is for_

 _When we have found what life's really worth_

 _There'll be peace on earth_

 _Someday all our dreams will come to be_

 _Someday in a world where men are free_

 _Maybe not in time for you and me_

 _But someday at Christmastime_

 _Someday at Christmas we'll see a land_

 _With no hungry children, no empty hands_

 _One happy morning people will share_

 _A world where people care_

 _Someday at Christmas there'll be no tears_

 _When all men are equal and no man has fears_

 _One shining moment, one prayer away_

 _From our world today_

They had known so much death and destruction that for their first Christmas they actually weren't sure how to be happy. Paylor had been smart. She'd waited a few years before reinstating the holiday. She had made sure money had been put back into each District before she'd declared Christmas a national holiday.

Still, when the day came, none of them really knew what to do. Paylor had done her best to advertise it, but none of them really watched television and missed the whole point of it.

So they found themselves seated around the table, quite unsure what it is they were supposed to do. They had food, but just a simple soup, because it was damn near a blizzard outside, and they all ate around the dinner table, slowly spooning the soup in their mouth: Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss. They shared soft glances with each other, some of them amused.

They hadn't quite mastered how to be happy yet.

When Katniss and Peeta's phone rang Peeta got up and answered. He was gone for a few minutes, and then returned with a grin on his face.

"It's for you, Haymitch," smiled Peeta, and Haymitch frowned at the boy suspiciously. He got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the phone.

"What is it?" he snarled.

"Well Merry Christmas to you too, Haymitch."

Haymitch paused, clutching the phone tightly. "Effie?"

There was silence on the other end, and then—"Hello, Haymitch."

It'd been a few years since he'd talked to her. Pretty much since she'd kicked him out of her apartment, and he'd climbed on that train back to 12 with Katniss. He knew she talked to the kids regularly. About a year ago she had started asking about him, and every time she called one of the kids would come over, stick their head in, and tell him that Effie said hello.

This was the first time he'd actually heard her voice, though.

"Are you guys having a happy Christmas?" asked Effie, bringing him back to the present.

Against his will Haymitch snorted. "We don't really do happy here, Princess."

Another pause, and then a soft sigh. "I know."

It was something in her voice that had his stomach coiling. "How are _you_?" The question caught him off guard, and must have caught Effie off guard as well, because she inhaled sharply. She could fool the kids, but she couldn't fool him. He _knew_ her. Andy maybe she had purposely not talked to him for the past few years wasn't because she hated him still, but because she knew he'd see right through her, even all the way in 12, and over the phone.

"I'm fine." She had lied to him. It was the first time, and he gaped at the phone, pulling it away from his ear. _He_ was the liar. Not her. _He_ was the one that'd kept her in the dark all those years, leaving her behind. She wasn't a liar.

"I know it's a double standard, but _don't_ ever lie to me, Effie." The anger in his voice shocked even him. He was fuming.

"This isn't the first time I've lied to you." Her voice was soft, delicate, and timid, as if she was unsure. "I lied to you three years ago, when I told you I never wanted to see you again." His heart stopped. She paused for a long time, perhaps waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, when he couldn't, she spoke again. "I _miss_ you, Haymitch."

He gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. He took a sharp breath, letting it out slowly. He wasn't going to say it. He'd put himself out there once, and she'd slammed the door in his face.

Still it slipped out. "Then come _home_ ," he said.

There was silence on the other end for several moments, and then a _click_.

 **XxXxXx**

"Well no wonder your Christmas isn't _happy_. Look at this place!" Effie's voice had his eyes snapping open, and he sat up quickly, the room spinning slightly. He squinted at the dark red blur in front of him.

"I'm hallucinating," he stated.

"You are not." Haymitch looked her over, taking in the bags in her hand.

"You hung up on me. I thought..."

"Yes, it was quite rude, I know, but I thought I would rush here before you changed your mind." She dropped her bags and rushed him, and he was ready for her. His mouth was warm and comforting, and tasted of his whiskey, but it was _perfect_ , because it was him.

"Effie," he whispered, against her neck, breathing her in.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch. I'm so sorry." She could feel the tears, but knew he wouldn't appreciate them, so she blinked rapidly and breathed deeply. "Please let me make it up to you."

"How?"

"Well for starters, I am going to show you the proper way to celebrate Christmas."

"I do not _care_ about Christmas."

"You don't now, but we have come a long way from playing with bombs and wars and fear. Haymitch, I never thought I'd live to see a world where we were _free_ , yet here we are. It's something to celebrate."

She was right, he supposed, so the following year he found himself sitting around the same table from last year, this time in a decorated house, and a tree with lights, and it was actually pretty merry.

If it was because Effie was by his side, he wasn't sure.

He _knew_.

Effie raised her glass, smiling at all of them. "A Christmas toast," she said, clearing her throat. "A few years ago I celebrated my first _real_ Christmas with Cinna and Portia. It was also my last. But all through dinner all we kept saying was 'Someday at Christmas….' I wish they'd survived to share this with us, but… their deaths were not in vain. To someday being today."

They raised their glasses and toasted each other, smiling.

Someday wasn't today. Not for all of them. Peeta still had flashbacks. Katniss still had nightmares. Effie sometimes thought she was back in that cell. And Haymitch still drank. Maybe they'd never experience that Christmas.

But someday at Christmastime, maybe their children's children would.


	141. Christmas Magic

_A guest asked about a song-fic and I couldn't respond so I'm putting it here: I wrote these a while ago—I'm still not in the mood for song fics. Sorry._

 **CHRISTMAS MAGIC**

 **Rated T**

Katniss swung open the backdoor, intent on calling out, her eyes immediately resting on the scene in front of her. She blinked for a few minutes, her mouth still open. She slowly took in all the details, a frown now on her face, as her shock registered and then finally disappeared.

Well at least she knew why Haymitch hadn't been out back.

She shouldn't really be all that surprised, she realized, but it was still weird to walk inside and find Haymitch asleep on the couch. Well _that_ wasn't so weird, she mused. More like the fact that Effie was asleep on top of him.

Peeta had told her it wasn't all that shocking, Effie coming back to 12 and moving in with Haymitch. Katniss had been dumbfounded, though, and completely blindsided when one day a few weeks ago she found them kissing under the mistletoe.

She wasn't sure what took her by surprise more: the fact that Effie and Haymitch were kissing, or the fact that they were kissing under _mistletoe_. Effie had decorated nearly every inch of Haymitch's house, and even though Christmas passed a few days ago, the decorations were still up, including the massive tree Haymitch had gone to the woods and chopped down.

Katniss stared at the couple for a while. She wondered, briefly, if they were naked under there, and then decided immediately she didn't _wanna_ know. Like, not ever. She could go her whole life without ever knowing if Haymitch and Effie….

She couldn't even finish the thought, so instead she thought about how different they were with each other. Effie had come back to 12 pretending to be okay, only the hollowness in her cheeks, the vacancy in her eyes, and the paleness of her skin didn't fool Katniss and Peeta for one minute. They would try to talk to her, only for her to insist that she was _fine_ and that they shouldn't worry about her.

They only stopped asking once they realized she was getting better. Katniss had no idea what it is Haymitch did for her, though she'd certainly had her suspicions now as she saw Effie cuddled up next to him, her hair splayed around Haymitch's bare chest.

His arms were wrapped tightly around her.

It was sweet, Katniss realized, and she'd never pictured Haymitch as _sweet_ before, which is why they'd had the falling out of a _century_ a few weeks after Effie arrived. She _cared_ about Effie, so she wanted what was best for her, and at the time, she wasn't sure Haymitch was it, so she'd marched into Haymitch's house one day and basically demanded that he turn Effie loose—as if he were holding her prisoner—and have her come live with them.

" _You're no good for her. You're no good for_ anyone _really. You're no good for yourself."_ Those were the words she'd spoken to Haymitch, to her _Mentor_ , the man who was in some complicated way like a father to her, and she thought she'd had damaged them beyond repair.

It took them _months_ to make up, and when she got annoyed and fed up Peeta always reminded her about how angry she'd been at Haymitch in 13. Katniss had never thought she'd come around, but she had, and Haymitch had never pushed her. Not like she had wanted to do, because she was _miserable_ without the son of a bitch, she realized.

 _Finally_ one day she'd walked into his house, more like barged in really, intent on making things right, and she'd found them kissing. Well… a lot more than that, really. Groping. Sighing. Moaning.

She thought she might kill herself.

An hour later Haymitch, much like she had, had burst into their house and plopped down next to Katniss on the couch.

It was the first time he'd been there in four months.

Peeta had scrambled away as quickly as his bad leg could carry him, and then it was just them, alone for the first time in four months.

"I'm in love with Effie, okay? And probably have been for at least ten years. The fact that I have to explain it to you is a real pain in my ass." Katniss cringed. She was such an idiot sometimes. "I don't deserve her. I never have. But I think you know a thing or two about not deserving somebody, yah?"

"Yah," Katniss said softly.

Haymitch nodded and stood up. "We're having Christmas dinner at our place. Effie expects you and the boy there."

He started to walk away when she called out, "And you? Do you expect me to be there?"

He slowly turned around, his signature scowl on his face, so like hers in so many ways. "If I didn't want you there, Sweetheart, I wouldn't have told you."

It was as good as an 'I forgive you' that she'd ever get.

Now she was back to giving them bags of game, though currently she was making Peeta's rounds. He was sick but had insisted she could still hunt and make her deliveries, but before she left, could she please give Haymitch and Effie their bread? And then he remembered Delly had ordered cookies, and Thom needed garlic bread, and suddenly she had a sack full of baked goods she would be delivering all over.

She didn't mind, though, even if she did huff and sigh and pout.

Kind of like someone else she knew.

She grabbed the bread and tip-toed to the kitchen. It was easier now. There weren't bottles to watch out for, or clothes, or dirt and dust, or _anything_ really. Effie hadn't just cleaned Haymitch's house she'd cleaned _him_ up. He wasn't sober by any means, but lately he'd been down to three glasses a day. Some days were better than others, but for the most part… they worked.

She made her way back to the backdoor, intent on feeding Haymitch's geese. Normally he was up doing this at this time himself, but clearly sleep had gotten the better of them.

She took one last look at him. His face was relaxed for once. She'd never seen it relaxed. The knife was locked away, and had been for about three months. They were getting better. All of them.

Haymitch shifted slightly. "Stop staring," he said, and Katniss nearly dropped her bowl of bread.

"How long have you been up?" demanded Katniss.

He opened one beady eye as he stared at her, his signature smirk on his face. "Since you opened the back gate. It squeaks. That's on purpose, so no one can catch me off guard."

Katniss blushed but stared back at Haymitch. "It's nice to see you happy, Haymitch."

He arched an eyebrow and she gave him a soft smile, turning and leaving.

When she opened the door and stepped back inside to sit the bowl down next to the door, she caught a glimpse of Haymitch's wedding band. It shined brightly against the soft lights of the Christmas tree.

It was then that she realized that yes, the two of them probably _were_ naked underneath that blanket.

She didn't believe in a lot of things. She wasn't sure she ever had, or that she ever would. Her and Haymitch were broken that way. They'd seen too much of the world.

But she'd also been around enough to believe in fate, and destiny. And sometimes, when she caught a glimpse of the way Haymitch smiled at Effie, or when she found herself watching Peeta sleep, she thought she might believe in things like magic. Magic, something that happened because of love, and life, and living, and around the holidays.

Love, she was learning, was a lot like Christmas magic.


	142. Baby Please Come Home

_Mariah Carey's version inspired this song. Not a song fic_

 _(Christmas) the snow's comin' down_

 _(Christmas) I'm watchin' it fall_

 _(Christmas) lots of people around_

 _(Christmas) baby, please come home_

 _They're singing Deck The Halls_

 _But it's not like Christmas at all_

 _'Cause I remember when you were here_

 _And all the fun we had last year_

 **BABY PLEASE COME HOME**

 **Rated T**

Effie watched the snow falling. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her, almost as if she could feel the cold from outside. It was really coming down thickly this year. It was beautiful, really. She'd always loved this time of year, but this year… this year was different.

It was lonely.

"Mom?" Effie barely refrained from jumping. She turned around to find herself face to face with her son. "Where's Dad?"

Effie gave him a soft smile. "He had to go and visit Aunt Jo, remember? She's sick."

Ash frowned and stood next to his mother, also staring out of the window.

"When's he coming back?"

Effie sighed. He'd been gone a week now, and it'd been the longest week of her life. It was supposed to have been a weekend trip, only Johanna had gotten worse. It was strange, to think about Johanna being sick when she was so strong. She'd survived much worse.

"I'm not sure," Effie told Ash, because she wouldn't lie to him. She wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to lean on her.

"Will he be back in time for Christmas?"

Effie sighed again. "I hope so."

* * *

When the phone rang Effie jumped. She'd let the sound of Christmas carolers force her to doze off, and it was still early yet. She'd forgotten that Haymitch was supposed to call.

She got off the couch and rushed to the phone.

"Haymitch?" she breathed.

"Don't sound so anxious, Princess." She could hear the amusement in his voice and she refrained from scowling. _He_ was still with his friends, even if he wasn't with his family: Johanna, Annie, Beetee, Gale.

 _Hazelle_.

"I miss you, is all," stated Effie rather grumpily.

"Wouldn't know it. You never really call, do you?"

"I'm trying be _courteous_ ," Effie hissed.

"Relax, Effie," sighed Haymitch. "I'm joking. I miss you too. I'll be home soon."

"In time for Christmas?" She hadn't quite succeeded in keeping the hope out of her voice, and she cringed on the other end of the line.

But she couldn't stop herself from thinking, _Please come home_.

"You know I'm trying. The weather's bad out there and there aren't a lot of trains coming in and out of 12 right now."

She stared outside, taking in all the snow. She could still hear the carolers singing about decking the halls, though they'd obviously moved further down Victor's Village. She refrained from sighing as her eyes wandered around the living room: the large Christmas tree that Haymitch had only half decorated when he'd gotten the call, the perfectly wrapped presents under the tree, the stockings hanging on the mantel.

All of it, pointless without him here.

"How's Jo?" Effie asked, changing the subject.

"Better. She's talking, and keeping food down. She's already gaining some weight back. It's a hell of a time to catch _pneumonia_. Guess it means she's human, then."

"Send her our love."

"Sure," snorted Haymitch. "Where's Ash?"

"He's next door with Katniss and Peeta. They're making gingerbread houses."

"What's _that_?"

Honestly, there was so much more he still had to learn about Christmas.

"Just an excuse for kids to eat more sweets during the holiday."

"Why aren't you there with them?" Effie didn't answer. Somehow stating because she was _depressed_ without him didn't sit well with her.

"Just wasn't in the mood," she stated after a pause. "You can call their house to talk to Ash. I think I'm going to shower."

"Would you stop being _miserable_ , Princess?"

Effie gripped the phone. "It's _Christmas_ , Haymitch, and I miss you. Your son misses you. This holiday isn't supposed to be spent away from your family."

Haymitch sighed. "I know, Effie. I'm doing everything I can to get home."

She felt the tears prickling her eyes, but she wasn't sure why.

"I know. I'm sorry." She took a calming breath. "I love you okay? Call me tonight before you go to bed, I don't care what time it is."

She could hear his smile through the phone. "Sure thing, Princess."

* * *

She'd given up hope for him coming home when he called her from 2 on Christmas Eve. There was no way he'd get here in time, not with the snowstorm they'd had a few days ago. The phone lines had been down and she hadn't even been able to _talk_ to him.

She couldn't remember how she used to survive without him for months a time all those years ago. She'd slept in Ash's room, snuggled up to her son, because being in her room made her think of Haymitch.

At least she'd wake up next to her son on Christmas.

So when she felt both lips and stubble waking her up, she nearly yelped, only she _knew_ him, she knew his scent, and her body reacted before she was even all the way awake, so that she was in his arms, and had barely made it outside the door before she was sobbing uncontrollably.

"You didn't say you were coming," she cried, immediately wiping her eyes.

"I was not about to miss Christmas with my family," stated Haymitch firmly. He pressed his lips to her neck, deciding not to tell her he'd have walked here if he had to. That snowstorm knocking out the power, forcing him not to talk to his family… it was _torture_. "Don't cry, Effie."

"We've missed you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I missed you guys." He kissed the top of her head, his hands resting on the small bulge in her stomach. " _All_ of you," he murmured, bending down to kiss the baby in her stomach.

"I'm so glad you're here," said Effie.

"I was always coming home Princess. Now come here and give me a Christmas gift."

Effie tried very hard not to smile. " _Must_ you be so crass?"

She found that she had time to give him a few gifts before Ash woke up.


	143. Lonely at Christmas

" _Thought of a Christmas prompt (it's a little similar to my other prompt): what if it's before Effie comes to stay at 12 Peeta realises Haymitch is sad as he is lonely. Peeta puts 2 & 2 together and invites Effie for Christmas as a surprise for Haymitch. You can take it from there... What do you think?" Nkneeshaw_

 **LONELY AT CHRISTMAS**

 **Rated T**

He didn't move when he heard the door open and then slam shut.

"Honestly, Haymitch, how is anyone supposed to decorate in this mess?" She'd said it to brighten the mood, but she wasn't quite sure she succeeded. Haymitch just stared at her, his mouth slightly agape, and Effie stood still, her eyes locking with his. She could see the emotions swirling around in those Seam eyes… confusion, shock, surprise… _hurt_. He stared at her as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

She supposed he couldn't.

Five years was a long time.

"Hello, Haymitch," Effie said softly, and that seemed to break the trance. He leaned back into the couch, eyeing her.

"The kids called you, didn't they?" Effie shifted, giving him his answer. "Of course they did. You wouldn't have come here on your own, would you have?" He didn't sound bitter, just reserved and defeated. "I don't know how may times I have to tell them to mind their own business." He turned a bleary eye to his bottle and grabbed it, bringing it to his lips and taking a long sip.

She hesitated and took a tentative step forward. The fact that he hadn't kicked her out yet was somewhat of a miracle. He watched her as she came forward, keeping his face blank as she sat on the edge of the couch.

"The children are quite worried about you," stated Effie.

"Are they?" he snorted.

"Yes. They are under the assumption that you think they don't need you anymore."

"They don't," stated Haymitch, taking another sip.

"Just because they got married last month doesn't mean you're not needed," Effie argued softly.

Haymitch sighed and leaned back against the armrest, closing his eyes and placing his arm over his eyes. "Are you really here to lecture me, Princess?" He sounded weary.

"No, Haymitch," sighed Effie quietly.

There was so much she wanted to say to him, and she thought she'd feel relieved that he wasn't looking at her, but she wasn't. She wanted to tell him the truth: that she had used the kid's call as an excuse, that it hadn't taken all that much convincing to get her on the first train to 12.

It was just one simple question, really:

" _Do you still love him or not?_ "

She had paused, but it wasn't a hesitation. She knew her answer.

Yes. Simply yes.

"Then come here," Peeta had said. "He _needs_ you, Effie. He gets this way every now and then, even more so around Christmas, and it's worse this year. He's lonely. He needs you."

 _Then why'd he leave me_? Effie heard herself asking. _Why'd he leave me behind in the Capitol once he went off to 13_?

But something else had wound its way through her brain: _who cares_? It was so long ago, and she needed him, too. Things weren't all that great for her here in the Capitol. She missed him. Terribly. She missed them all, but particularly him, and in seeing him today, she wondered how she'd stayed away for so long.

"I miss you Haymitch," blurted out Effie, and she flushed as she realized he'd been in the middle of talking. He stared at her, his mouth open, and she cringed. "I'm sorry, but I had to say that."

He took another drink, his eyes never leaving hers. "So it took you five years to miss me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Effie said. "Of course not." He stared at her, and she could practically hear his thoughts: _What took you so long then_? "I guess it's like before…. I mean we didn't talk on the phone or write or anything when you came back home. Yet when we got back together…." She let the sentence hang, because they both knew: whenever they were back in each other's presence, they were all over each other.

"It's a little different now," stated Haymitch. "I mean we can travel between Districts now."

"Yes, _we_ can," Effie emphasized, and he glared at her.

"If you thought I was gonna go to the Capitol for you, you're still as stupid as the costumes you used to parade around in." Effie kept her face blank as he eyed her, taking in her real hair, her bare face, and plain plaid dress and coat to match. "Nobody is worth that. Katniss was barely worth coming back to 12 for, only I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, did I? She needed me, they said, only she didn't." He frowned. "I couldn't help her, though. No wonder why they don't need me anymore."

"You know," declared Effie, "for someone so selfless, you sound awfully selfish. Peeta says you've been acting this way since Peeta moved in a few years ago, and that it's only gotten worse since Paylor reinstated the holidays."

Haymitch huffed. "I had no idea you and the kids were so close."

"We weren't. At least until they invited me to the wedding." The wedding she hadn't shown up for, because she was a coward, and couldn't face her demons. "But they said you needed me, so I came."

"I don't need you." It wasn't the first time he'd lied to her. Not by any means. For a long while she thought everything about them had been a lie. This was a lie, but it was an obvious one.

"Right," Effie said dryly, standing. "Up, up, up." Haymitch just glared at her. "Don't look at me like that. I won't repeat myself. You need to shower, and then I need your help cleaning. At some point you and Katniss need to go into the woods to get a tree before it gets dark, and Peeta and I will go into Town to get decorations."

"Leave me alone." He threw his arm back over his face, almost like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

"Don't pout, Darling." She tapped her foot, forcing him to give her another glare. "If you really wanted me to leave you'd have kicked me out by now." That much she knew, so she reached across and grabbed his bottle. "And I think you've had quite enough." She put the bottle down and gave him a steely stare.

He sighed. " _All right_ , Princess. Stop looking at me like that."

" _Thank you_." She backed out of the way as he stood up, grumbling all the while as he made his way upstairs. "And shave!" Effie called after him. She smiled when she heard him stomp up the stairs.

When he came back down twenty minutes later his beard was shorter, his hair wet, and her breath caught in her throat a little bit. It was strange, the way he still had this affect on her.

"Happy?" he snarled, scowling, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Trinket."

Thirty minutes later, panting, she turned to him. "Wipe that smirk off your face," she smiled, and he snorted, wrapping his arms around her naked flesh. "This hasn't gotten you off cleaning duty, you know."

"Course not." She could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"We should get up."

"I was up, remember?" He gently bit her earlobe, nearly making her shiver.

"You have already gotten us behind schedule."

" _You_ jumped me, Princess."

"I did _not_." She had, but that was neither here nor there. It wasn't _her_ fault she'd nearly tripped over a bottle, breaking her neck, and Haymitch had caught her, and all it took was one touch for her to be all over him.

But he was equally all over her.

It was her first Christmas in 12, but it wouldn't be her last.

She never left again.

Suddenly his days, particularly his Christmases, were no longer as lonely.


	144. Si Charme

_Not a prompt, but a gift idea. Putting it with the Christmas stories because hellllo it's a gift. "Aww! So adorable! Now, I don't know what sort of ideas you have for this, but because it's me, if I was a guy in Haymitch's situation, I'd do something that would, in some subtle way, be sentimental to her but hilarious to me... (I have a weird sense of humour here.) A charm bracelet with things like lipstick charms, but there's one with two tiny footprint-type things. I don't know, just something I could see him using." –BlackCat46. Translation: So Charmed_

 **SI CHARMÉ**

 **Rated K**

"Is he all settled in then?" asked Haymitch, staring at Effie.

She gave him a soft smile. "Why don't you go and see for yourself? He asked for you."

Haymitch took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why all of a sudden he was so nervous. This is what he had wanted. This is what he had fought for. He knew what to expect. He'd told Effie to bring him home, and that's what she had done.

Yet when Effie had declared it was time for Ash to go to bed, he realized he had no idea what that entailed, so he had snuck away, only to creep back and peek inside. Effie helped change him into his pajamas, she helped him into bed. And then she climbed in next to him and told him a bedtime story. It was here that Haymitch had found himself tip-toeing away, suddenly ashamed.

He wasn't sure he'd have known to do anything of that.

He had a lot to learn about this father business.

"Will you come with me?" It seemed like such a childish thing to ask, but the question slipped out before he could stop himself. He cringed inside but kept his face neutral—he was still good at that. Hiding himself.

"He wants to see his _father_ , Haymitch. You don't have to worry. He already loves and adores you."

And she, apparently, was still really good at knowing him.

He walked to Ash's room, more nervous than ever, but then relaxed when the boy's eyes brightened at the sight of him. Haymitch gave the boy a smile and walked to his bed.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Dad."

Haymitch blinked. "Did… did your mother tell you to thank me?"

Ash shook his head. "No. I just know it's polite to say thank you. You didn't have to bring me here."

"Of course I did. You're my son," Haymitch said harshly. "This is where you belong," he added a little more gently. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." Ash smiled and gave his father another hug and then bounced— literally—into his bed. Haymitch smiled and bid his son goodnight, and then slowly made his way back to his room.

Effie was in the bathroom, the door ajar, washing off her makeup and unpinning her hair. He undressed and then stood at the bathroom door, watching her as she brushed her hair. it was a nighttime ritual that still made him roll his eyes—he couldn't believe she actually brushed her hair one hundred times.

Perhaps that's why it stayed so soft.

She eyed him in the mirror, smiling softly as she finished her last few strokes. "You're a natural, you know. I don't know what you're worried about. You're great with Ash, and in his eyes, you're perfect."

Haymitch sighed heavily. "That's a lot of pressure to live up to."

Effie turned around so that she was facing him. "You'll be fine. You're his hero." She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Breathe. You're fine. We're fine."

"No matter what happens, I don't regret it, okay? I'm scared outta my mind, but he belongs here." He kissed her pulling her close. "I have something for you." She arched an eyebrow. "C'mere."

He grabbed her hand and led her back to the bedroom. He walked to his dresser and reached all the way in the back, pulling out a small blue box.

"I believe you're partial to Tiffany's, yah?"

Effie gasped, her eyes widening. "Haymitch. Oh my God."

"The kids kept talking to me about somethin' called a push gift."

Effie laughed, clearly delighted. "I truly love them," she sighed, her eyes glittering.

"Yah, yah," snorted Haymitch, thrusting the box at her. She took it, delicately opening it. She gasped at the twenty-four karat gold bracelet, taking it out of the box.

"It's a charm bracelet," she whispered.

"Yah, see, I got you a tube of lipstick, and a pair of heels." He pointed to each item as he spoke. "There's also a Mockingjay, and a spy glass, because you were a spy. Here's a dress, and lastly—"

"A tiny pair of feet." Effie blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry, because he'd never buy her anything ever again if she burst into tears, but it was quite difficult. She fingered the little feet, clearing her throat a few times. "It's perfect." The best thing he'd ever given her, aside from Ash himself, and the one-karat diamond wedding ring he'd gotten her. When she finally looked up at him her eyes gave her away, though her voice was firm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Princess." He leaned down for a kiss and she met him halfway.

"I am truly charmed." She was surprised when he grabbed her arm and actually put it on her wrist.

She doubted she'd ever take it off.


	145. Christmas Memories

" _The sentimentalist in me thinks that the perfect gift for Effie would be have to do with things from the past, especially things that she's had to give up or has missed altogether. What if Haymitch compiles an album of sorts, pictures, videos etc of Ash's babyhood; of all the years that they missed of his life? I think as a mother she would cherish something like that and as a wife, make her love her husband even more." I loved this, but had to remind Karmicamadi86 that Haymitch wouldn't have had access to the first 5 years of Ash's life, so I changed it up and made this a Christmas gift from Effie to Haymitch during their first Christmas with Ash. Not exactly a prompt, but a prompt LOL_

 **CHRISTMAS MEMORIES**

 **Rated K**

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight," Effie said softly. She gently closed the book and kissed Ash's forehead. He stirred, but stayed asleep, and Effie, used to it, slithered out of the bed like the expert she was without waking him. She placed the book back on the shelf as Haymitch climbed out of the bed, bending down and kissing Ash's cheek.

Effie walked up to Haymitch, her hand sliding into his. They walked towards the door together, Effie turning out the light and Haymitch closing the door, leaving it slightly ajar. Hand-in-hand they walked to their bedroom.

After closing the door behind him Haymitch pulled Effie to him, his lips seeking hers. It was soft, gentle, intimate. She sighed into his mouth, a smile on her face, until he finally drew back.

"Thank you, for the most amazing Christmas ever," he said.

"It's not quite over yet," stated Effie.

Haymitch arched an eyebrow as Effie backed away, heading towards the closet.

"What do you got up your sleeve, Princess? We already exchanged gifts."

"Yes, but I owe you one," Effie said, reappearing from the closet. She'd slipped her robe off and just wore a _very_ distracting red little number. Now that was a certainly a wonderful gift, and he immediately started walking towards her. "My outfit is _not_ your gift," said Effie, immediately recognizing the glint in his eye. He froze, and very nearly pouted. "At least not yet. Change into your bed clothes and join me in bed."

"Bossy," he snorted, and she smiled at him.

After a few minutes he climbed in next to her, staring curiously at the book in her hand.

"What, are you about to read me a bedtime story? 'Cause I gotta tell you, I'd rather make a bedtime movie."

She rolled her eyes. "Be serious for a moment. I saved this gift for you because I thought you deserved to see it first." She slid it on his lap. "Open it." He did as he was told, his breath immediately catching in his throat.

The first picture was of Effie, in the hospital, holding Ash while he was a baby. She'd clearly just given birth, and the smile on her face was blinding. Ash was cuddled against her cheek. The next picture was nearly identical, though in this one Effie was looking down at Ash instead of the camera.

"I thought you'd like to see some memories of Ash over the years. I've been collecting all of these since you surprised me with my push gift." She twisted the charm bracelet fondly.

"Everything's a competition with you," stated Haymitch with a roll of his eyes. Effie grinned.

"Portia took these," said Effie softly after a few moments. "Of course we couldn't leave the pictures around. It was a secret birth, taken in a Rebel hospital, and she kept the film hidden. After the war a nurse came up to me and gave me rolls and rolls of film."

He brushed the pictures. Some of them were Ash with complete strangers—doctors, he assumed, as well as stand-in parents, but there were plenty with Effie, Cinna, and Portia as well.

"What happened to their child? Cinna and Portia's? You told me once that Portia told you about the place. So what happened to their kid?"

Effie bit her lip, her eyes sad. "Portia… Portia miscarried. She never had her child."

Haymitch sucked in a harsh breath. "It's better that way, right? Since they didn't make it?"

Effie nodded. "Yes. Yes, I think so. Though I'd like to think if their child had been born, we'd have taken him or her in."

Effie turned the page, and Haymitch took his time with each page, his fingers caressing each picture. He watched as his son started to grow up before his very eyes.

"That was his first haircut. He fussed the entire time. It was then that I knew he was a junior Haymitch Abernathy." Haymitch snorted. "I actually thought about changing his name, but I refrained myself."

Haymitch smiled fondly at the picture. "Why'd you name him Ash? I don't think I ever asked you that before, but I've always wanted to know."

"I wanted something that symbolized you without making it too obvious. I couldn't name him Haymitch Abernathy Junior, could I? When he was first born he had ash blond hair. _How_ it go so dark I'll _never_ know, but at the time it seemed very fitting. _And_ his eyes held a hint of grey. It was gone after a few days, and they've stayed blue since, but… it was there. But that's why I chose the name. It was a way to pay homage to you, without it being too obvious."

Haymitch didn't meet her eye, but she smiled nonetheless. She knew how to tell when he was touched.

They continued looking through the book, Haymitch noting that Ash had always had a thing for hovercrafts. They showed him in pre-school, and then school. There were pictures of him with boys and girls his age, laughing, playing, dancing.

"This was the first time Ash wrote you a letter. I thought it was a special moment to capture." Haymitch stared at the picture, blinking rapidly. Ash was sitting down in a chair, a pencil in his hand, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he attempted to write.

Haymitch had slept with this letter for a month before finally framing it.

One picture in particular caught his eye, towards the end. Ash looked elated, and he looked so much like Haymitch in that moment that it literally took his breath away.

"That was the day I told Ash he'd be coming home. He was so happy, Haymitch. You'd have thought it was Christmas. He looked so much like you, and I just so happened to catch it at the perfect moment. It's my favorite picture. It's my favorite _memory_."

Haymitch stared at the photo album for several more moments, and then shut it. "There are plenty of more blank pages to fill," Haymitch said softly. "Plenty of more memories."

Effie nodded. "We can make another memory right now." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Haymitch laughed. "But let's not put this one in the book. I don't think Ash wants to look back in this book and see _that_."

Effie giggled, placing her lips softly on his. "Merry Christmas, Haymitch."

"You too, Princess."

He pulled her to him, to begin making even more Christmas memories.


	146. Christmas Eve Party

_It's Christmas Eve where I am, so Merry Christmas Eve! Posting a few chapters as a gift. Might post early in He's Fire, not sure yet. =)_

 **CHRISTMAS EVE PARTY**

 **Rated M**

"I want to throw a Christmas party," Effie said, sitting down next to him on the couch.

Haymitch put his paper down and looked at her, his eyebrows raised. "Come again?"

"It'll be on Christmas Eve. Nothing too lavish. Just a simple party. We can invite Johanna, Gale, Beetee, Annie. And people from 12, of course. It'll be fun."

"But… _why_?" frowned Haymitch.

"Because I'm a mother and it'd be nice to wear something other than spit up, and I'd like to prove to myself that I'm still pretty."

"I don't make you feel pretty? I can't stay off of you."

"You're my _husband_ , Haymitch. You better make me feel pretty. But this isn't for you. It's for me."

"I don't know, Princess," sighed Haymitch. "I don't know if I want a big party here. You know how you get when you start planning things."

Effie could have argued with him. It might have even been fun to fight with him, because making up with him was always amazing, but she was too tired. So she reached behind her back, grabbing the magazine she'd bought down with her, and opened the bookmarked page. "If you let me throw a Christmas party, _this_ will be one of your Christmas gifts."

Haymitch snatched the magazine from her so fast she never even saw him move. He looked at the vague piece of lingerie, his mouth hanging open. He tilted his head sideways, his eyes taking in all details—or lack thereof—for the piece. He swallowed audibly, blinking rapidly.

"Deal," he finally said, tossing the magazine back to her. "But don't expect me to help you. If you want the party, you're planning it on your own, Princess."

"Okay," grinned Effie. She reached over and kissed him, and then got up to start making invitations.

 **XxXxXx**

His mouth dropped open when Effie finally came down the stairs to make her grand entrance. It'd been a month from hell, just like he knew it would be, because Effie was bloody _insane_ and had been ever since he'd known her, particularly when it came to planning things. Everything had to be _perfect_ because they had a big, big day tomorrow, and it was so much like during the Games that he was surprised he hadn't relapsed.

But seeing her like this, in that dress, made the past few weeks worth it. She had refused to tell him what she was wearing, only telling him that she'd be wearing a hounds tooth dress—he hadn't even know what that meant until she handed him a hounds tooth print tie tonight and told him to put it on. Then she proceeded to kick him out of their bedroom to get ready.

He'd been forced to play host for the past thirty minutes, and he thought he might go upstairs and drag her back down naked for all he cared. That was why he was at the stairs when she came down, and it was strange the way she could still take his breath away after all this time.

The hounds tooth dress was perfect on her, its pattern smaller than the pattern of his tie. He stared, transfixed, as he realized she was right: it had been a long time since he'd seen her in something fancy and pretty and girly and utterly Effie. Granted like he'd told her he still couldn't stay off of her, but it was different, seeing her like this.

Her hair was done, which was a nice touch, because as of lately she just wore it in Katniss' signature braid. She didn't have time to get her hair done with children running around the house, but she'd made an appointment for the first time in a year and a half and had gotten her hair cut again. She didn't have on a stitch of makeup—she'd never needed that shit in the first place—but she did have on bright red lipstick to match her bright red heels.

Heels she'd have to leave on tonight, for sure.

He couldn't decide if he was surprised or not that she wasn't wearing red. She'd demanded that everybody wear red to help get in the holiday spirit—as if the millions of decorations around the house didn't do it. But here she was, wearing a black and white dress, standing out from everybody.

The entire party quieted down as she made her entrance, and Haymitch nearly got whiplash when he heard someone whistle. He fixed his face as soon as he realized it was only Peeta.

"I was just about to come get you, Princess," said Haymitch when she reached him. He held out his hand for her and she smiled at him and took his hand. He led her through the crowd and the music started playing again. "You look perfect."

"Thank you," Effie said. "You look quite dapper yourself."

"Remind me to thank Greasy Sae for watching the kids tonight," Haymitch told her. "And I'm gonna ask her to keep them for the rest of the year."

"What?"

He grinned at her. "That's how long you're gonna need to recover from what I plan on doing to you tonight."

"Oh." She blushed at what he said and he marveled at the fact that he could still make her blush, even after all this time. "I'll see what I can do about that."

She made her rounds, greeting people and talking, drinking and eating. He watched her, realizing she was totally in her element.

"Stop undressing your Escort," snapped Johanna, nearly causing Haymitch to jump out of his skin.

"She's not my Escort," Haymitch snapped back. "She's my wife," he added a little more softly.

"Yes, we can all tell because from the huge rock on her hand."

"It was her latest push gift," muttered Haymitch.

Johanna snorted. "You are so whipped it's ridiculous."

"I'm not either," Haymitch nearly whined.

"You two are _matching_." Haymitch looked down at his black suit, Christmas red shirt that _did_ match Effie's lipstick and shoes, and his tie that matched her dress.

"So," responded Haymitch dismissively.

"Hey, it's no big deal to me."

Haymitch smirked and bumped Johanna with his hip. "You still got a hard on for me Sweetheart?"

Johanna scowled. "Not even in your prime, old man."

Haymitch barked out a laugh as Johanna walked off. He looked around and saw Katniss and Peeta dancing together in the crowd. It warmed his heart, just a little, to see those two, all hugged up and in love.

The four of them had come such a long way.

He looked around, spotting Beetee, who was talking to Gale, his new wife on his arm. Hazelle was in the crowd, dancing with 12's new banker. Annie was now talking to Johanna. Delly was talking to Thom and Effie was standing in a corner by the door, talking to Cressida.

Haymitch walked over to Effie, ignoring the smile Cressida gave him, and pulled Effie to him, planting a firm kiss on her lips.

He didn't stop until he heard a few claps and whistles.

"Haymitch! Honestly, what's gotten into you?"

"Mistletoe," he said, pointing above her.

She looked up. "Oh."

Haymitch pulled her closer. "Why don't you meet me in the bathroom and give me an early Christmas gift?"

"Give me five minutes." Haymitch started to walk off when Effie grabbed him. "Meet me in the upstairs bathroom. I don't want anyone to hear us."

He walked upstairs harder than ever.

 **XxXxXx**

"You're late," Haymitch nearly snarled. "That was way longer than five minutes. I thought I'd have to start without you."

Effie closed the bathroom door, wincing. "I'm sorry. I got caught talking with—" Who she was caught talking with didn't matter, which he proved by pulling her to him and kissing her, his hands all over her body. He pushed her into the wall, his hands gripping her breasts over her dress.

"You look fucking perfect tonight, and I've missed seeing you this way." He kissed her neck, lifting her dress. "I love seeing you as a mother but _fuck_ you're hot. I almost didn't want to let you down the stairs."

Haymitch sunk into her and she moaned. "Haymitch," whimpered Effie.

"I don't remember the last time I fucked you in one of your fancy dresses."

"You used to hate them." She gasped as he sped up, locking her legs around him.

"I hated your Capitol dresses. This is…." Haymitch lost his train of thought when Effie came.

"I love you," Effie whispered. He grunted, pushing even farther into her. He sped up, knowing he was close. "I love it when you're inside of me."

"Yah?"

"Yes. Especially like this. When we don't have to worry about the kids and you can just…." Her back arched. "Give it to me, just like this."

"Like what?"

"Rough. Hard. _Raw_."

He spilled himself into her, cursing. He kissed her neck as she finished, her breathing just as hard as his.

" _That_ was a great gift," panted Haymitch.

Effie laughed as she straightened out her dress. "Great Christmas party."

"We should have one every year," agreed Haymitch, pulling her close.

"Wait until you see me in that lingerie piece."

He zipped up his pants, convinced this was the best Christmas Eve party ever.


	147. Christmas Morning

_It's CHRISTmas morning! Here's another gift! Enjoy. Thanks to all of you who have enjoyed this. I can't believe I'm at 147 chapters! I still have PLENTY of chapters to post, not to mention I'm still getting prompts (keep them coming) so this'll take us well into next year. Thanks for all the support._

 **CHRISTMAS MORNING**

 **Rated M—smut**

Effie sighed, turning over in bed only to be greeted by something firm. Still half sleep she smelled him before she saw him.

 _Haymitch_.

She gasped and sat up, causing him to stir, though he stayed sleep. The room was bright, proving that it was late in the day, though Effie was unsure of how late. Haymitch didn't have an alarm clock in his room.

She looked around, noting his shirt was off. She peaked under the covers and noticed she was naked. Memories of last night came flooding back almost immediately, and she found herself blushing scarlet.

Last night had been… well… incredible was an understatement. She was still slightly sore, she noted, and if it was from how many rounds they went or how rough he was she didn't know.

The _things_ she'd done with this man last night…. The things she had let him do. The things she had _wanted_ him to do.

She was still in his room. She must have fallen asleep here afterwards. He was probably going to _kill_ her. Had they drank last night? _She_ didn't think she had. Of course Haymitch had, but he had only had his usual four flasks full of liquor.

Then she remembered the snowball fight, and the kiss, and their rush to get back inside where they couldn't even make it up the stairs. He'd taken her against the door and she'd cum so quickly she hadn't even been able to lock her legs around him.

They made it upstairs the next time, and to the shower, and _that_ certainly had been thrilling. Remembering where his tongue had been, where her mouth had been, where his _hands_ had been were making her blush.

And then they'd fallen on the bed, and he'd had his way with her here, too. It had been the most amazing, incredible, mind-blowing night of her life, and she'd never had so many orgasms.

She'd probably fallen asleep here because she wasn't able to stand.

She glanced at him again. He looked relaxed, truly relaxed for the first time. She'd never seen him look so content, aside from last night when he'd rolled off of her, his hands behind his head, a smug smile on her face.

"You're no beauty in bed, Princess," he had claimed, and she blushed. She had had no response to that, because he'd certainly been a beast.

Now his hair was covering half his face, one hand still draped behind his head, the other at his side. He was perfect, she decided, and somewhere, down deep, she wondered what had taken them so long to do this. It had been the best night of her life, and she was sad that it was morning and that it'd have to end.

She wasn't sure how he'd act. They'd never done this before.

"Can you think quieter?" he moaned. "I can practically _hear_ that brain of yours. Lay back down and go to sleep."

She hadn't realized her body was tense until she sagged with relief.

"I thought I might have to sneak out."

"Do you honestly think I didn't know you were in my bed? I don't fall asleep until sunrise. _You_ were sleep in seconds." He sounded awfully happy about that, and she blushed again.

His hands snaked around her, and she tried not to be surprised. She was sure he could feel her heart pounding out of her chest, though.

"Would you like to go again?"

He let out a snort. " _Freak_ ," he stated, but his voice was laced with affection and it was obvious he liked the idea and that it appealed to him, because he hardened against her. His hands found her breasts and she moaned softly.

He was inside of her in seconds, and it felt _natural_. His strokes were shallow and smooth, nothing at all like what they'd shared the night before, and though it was different it still had her cumming in seconds.

She found herself whimpering out his name, and it fell off her tongue entirely too easily.

Her name sounded exotic coming from his mouth.

He sighed when they were finished, clearly content, and his mouth was on hers to swallow her own orgasm. She rocked against him for a few more moments, and he groaned softly.

"Merry fucking Christmas to me," he hummed out against her neck.

She laughed. "We should get up. We don't want the kids to find us."

Haymitch snorted. "We're adults," he reasoned, pulling her back to him. "Go back to sleep. We've had a long night."

She was just dozing back off to sleep when the door burst open.

"Effie's missing," Katniss said, clearly breathless.

"What?" snarled Haymitch, popping open an eye.

"Effie. She's gone. She never came back last night." They could hear the panic in her voice.

Haymitch sighed. "Effie's fine. Go away."

"You know where she is?"

"Yah I have an idea or two."

Katniss paused. "Care to _share_?"

Haymitch elbowed her and she glared at him. Then with an eye roll she moved the covers from her face.

Katniss gaped. "Are you two… did you two… _ew_!" She covered her eyes.

"Serves you right for all those times I'd walked in on you and the boy."

"I'm sending back your Christmas gift. I don't ever want to see either of you ever again." She left, slamming the door closed, and they could hear her calling for Peeta.

Haymitch laughed until Effie climbed back on top of him.

All in all it was a pretty good Christmas morning.

 _If you couldn't tell, this was a continuation of Something There (Chapter 136)._


	148. Christmas Surprise

" _For Christmas prompts, how about Effie announcing her pregnancy in a gift?" –Guest. Consider this a sequel to Baby Please Come Home, as well as a continuation of Meant to Be._

 **CHRISTMAS SURPRISE**

 **Rated T**

It felt like it took them a whole hour to walk to Katniss and Peeta's due to the snow outside. Haymitch had suggested staying in, but it was _Christmas_ , and she wasn't going to spend it apart from the kids, particularly since Annie and Finn had come back to 12 with Haymitch.

So Haymitch had bundled them all up and packed an overnight bag, because they were _not_ going back out there, he declared firmly. He packed all the gifts, double and triple checking to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything.

Then he dragged Effie back upstairs and took her against the bedroom wall, because he was pretty sure he wouldn't be getting any tonight if they stayed over the kid's house. Not with how loud she was. Even now he had to keep her mouth covered for fear that Ash would hear them all the way downstairs.

Afterwards they camped over to Peeta and Kantiss' place, several packages in Haymitch's arms as he didn't want Effie carrying anything, announcing their arrival by a mountain full of snow being blown into their foyer.

Finn yelled his excitement at seeing Ash, and the two boys were hugging and wrestling within seconds.

"Ash, your mother and I are not your Avoxes," Haymitch stated firmly. "Go and speak to Aunt Annie, Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta, and then take your bags upstairs. _Then_ you can play with Finn."

"Okay," said Ash. He gave his father a fleeting hug—he'd been attached at his hip since he'd woken up to find his father home—and then stepped away.

"C'mon, I'll help you." Before Finn did, though, he ran up and hugged Haymitch and Effie, and then he and Ash were gone disappearing into the kitchen. A few seconds later Katniss, Peeta, and Annie came out of the kitchen.

"Effie, you're glowing," stated Annie after the two women hugged. "You look stunning."

"Yah, well, I just screwed her brains out before we go here, so…."

" _Haymitch Abernathy_!" Effie scolded.

" _Honestly Haymitch!"_ said Katniss at the same time, and it sounded so much like Effie that Haymitch realized that his Escort was staring to influence her Tribute. Haymitch just smiled smugly at them both. "The baby can _hear_ you, you know." She placed her hand on her stomach.

"I'll take your bags upstairs," Peeta volunteered. "Why don't you put your gifts under the tree, Haymitch? Everybody's in the kitchen."

"Has anyone talked to Jo?" asked Haymitch.

"Earlier this morning, when we first got in," Annie said. "She said she'd call back later." Haymitch nodded and put the gifts under the tree. Afterwards he helped Effie out of her coat and they made their way to the kitchen. They could hear Ash and Finn thudding upstairs.

"If you guys break _anything_ I'm making you get a job to pay for it," yelled Haymitch.

Katniss laughed as Effie glared at Haymitch. He yanked her to him, his arms wrapping around her waist and his lips connecting with her neck. Without meaning to Effie moaned.

"Stop. _Stop_ ," Katniss demanded. "We don't need to see that."

"See what?" asked Peeta, returning to the room.

" _Them_ making out like _children_ ," Katniss declared.

"We could always just get them back," grinned Peeta, and he pulled Katniss to him and planted a firm kiss on her lips. Katniss immediately responded.

" _Okay_ ," Haymitch growled. "Point taken. I'll keep my hands off my wife." He wouldn't, but he'd let them think he would.

"How long before dinner's ready? I'm _starving_ ," claimed Effie. She sniffed, smelling the Christmas dinner. She couldn't wait to eat.

"We still have a few hours, but I'm making some cookies that are almost finished. I'm making pumpkin spiced cookies." Peeta smiled. "I thought you'd enjoy them."

Effie touched her stomach lightly, stiffening. She stood up suddenly, her hand over her mouth, and rushed out of the kitchen. They followed behind her, Haymitch nearest her, his hand on the small of her back. She didn't make it to the toilet, but to the sink.

"What's wrong, Effie?" asked Annie, squeezing behind Haymitch. Katniss and Peeta looked on.

"She was sick awhile ago," Peeta remembered. "Do you think it came back?"

Haymitch snorted. "More like it never left." Effie glared at him and he smiled sheepishly at her. He grabbed a napkin and wiped and handed it to her.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," said Effie, clearing her throat. "Katniss, do you have mouth wash?"

"Yes. It's locked up upstairs." She stared pointedly at Haymitch.

"I haven't touched a bottle for over six years," said Haymitch defensively.

"And we'll keep it that way," Katniss stated firmly. "I'll be right back."

"I'll go get it," volunteered Peeta.

"I'm pregnant, not incapable," she snapped. With that she headed upstairs.

Haymitch frowned. This is what he had to get used to.

Haymitch thought facing an Arena might be easier.

…

Haymitch couldn't say he was all that surprised to find himself alone with Peeta. The boy was clever.

"Is everything okay with Effie?" he whispered after dinner.

"She's fine," sighed Haymitch.

"Are you sure? Katniss and I are worried…."

Haymitch looked at him, figuring it was time to put them out of their misery. "Let's go open gifts," Haymitch suggested. Peeta looked like he wanted to argue but Haymitch didn't give him a chance. He just walked away. He walked up to the tree and grabbed the largest gift, dragging it in the center of the room. Everyone waited expectantly. "This gift is getting opened first because it's not for anyone in this room. It's for a person who'll be here in a few months. Katniss, if you could do the honors."

Katniss stepped forward and ripped open the paper. The entire room gasped.

It was a miniature dollhouse, carefully crafted, and obviously made by Haymitch's hand. It was _stunning_ , and life sized, so the kids would be able to play in it for several years. It had four bedrooms, with dolls and everything.

"Haymitch it's _perfect_ ," declared Katniss.

"What's that?" Annie asked, pointing to an envelope in the center of the bed on the second floor.

"Grab it and find out," stated Effie. She did as she was told, opening the envelope.

Annie stayed quiet for several moments, blinking rapidly. "It's an ultrasound." She looked up at them.

" _What_?" Peeta snatched the ultrasound out of Annie's hand, and Katniss snatched it out of his.

"Oh my God!" Her eyes sought out Haymitch's. "You're pregnant?"

"Well I'm not," snorted Haymitch. "Technology isn't _that_ advanced."

Katniss ignored him and looked at Effie, who smiled shyly.

"Surprise," Effie said shyly, and then everyone was hugging her and congratulating her.

"Hey, I helped," muttered Haymitch.

"Right, don't want to think about that," Peeta said. "So this is why you've been sick, Effie?"

"Yes. My morning sickness has died down, but… I don't think I'll be having any cravings for anything pumpkin anytime soon." She frowned just as the thought.

"I'm so happy for you two," exclaimed Annie. At that moment the phone rang. "That'll be Johanna." She looked at Haymitch. "Want to tell her the good news?"

She laughed for an hour, declaring he and Effie would never have sex again, but in the end she gave them her blessing. "Let me know when I can meet the little tiger, and if she ends up being a little teal baby, I'll never let you live it down."

Haymitch smiled into the phone. Guess he and Effie didn't have the only Christmas surprise.

 _**Bella184ever used the term "teal baby" in one of my reviews and I freakin DIED laughing, so I stole it. Thanks for the inspiration._


	149. Harlem Nights

" _Great Christmas one shot :) A prompt for you to consider: post war Hayffie first Christmas both are still healing. Just prior to Christmas Effie finds a stray kitten which he hates it but realises it gives her something to focus on. For Christmas Haymitch decides to let Effie keep the kitten..." –Nkneeshaw. Had to change the kitten to a puppy, because I'm much more partial to dogs, and because I've been trying to do a pet one-shot for the longest, but couldn't figure one out to save my life. I just think Harlem is the CUTEST name EVER for a Yorkie, so that's what I'm naming the dog. Also, the title is just a play on words. It in now way references the movie. This definitely became one of my absolute favorites._

 **HARLEM NIGHTS**

 **Rated M**

"Yah, so what should I do?" asked Haymitch as Effie came into the view. It didn't seem to register that he was there, in the kitchen, on the phone. Nothing _ever_ registered with her. She just sat down in the kitchen, like she did every day, her hands folded neatly across her lap, and stared straight ahead.

He considered it a plus that she had even gotten out of bed.

He felt himself itching for his liquor.

At least she was dressed appropriately. It had taken him nearly begging for her to realize that winters in 12 were triple the winters in the Capitol, and she'd finally traded out her nightdresses for his flannels shirts.

All of them.

"I'm not gonna drown it, Jo. I'm not a stone blood killer," he spat. At least… not anymore. He _could_ be. He _had_ been. But that part of him was behind him, he told himself, and he vowed to keep it that way. "She might belong to somebody. _No_ there was no tag, but she's but a few months old."

At that moment the object of conversation made her way into the kitchen—so much for getting her to stay—and walked its way over to Effie, her nose to the ground. After a few seconds she was sniffing Effie's feet, and then her tail was wagging and her tongue was dropping.

A few moments later she was licking Effie's ankles.

Haymitch saw it, the switch, almost immediately. Effie blinked and looked down, her vacant eyes _for once_ showing an emotion: surprise.

And then she smiled.

Haymitch gripped the phone tighter. She'd been here for seven months and he was pretty positive he hadn't seen her smile once, unless she was giving the kids her _stupid_ Capitol smile, which he didn't count in the least.

"I'll call you back," Haymitch said, and then hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. He watched as Effie bent down and picked up the dog, and she immediately started licking Effie's face.

"Haymitch, I didn't know you had a Yorkie." It was the first sentence Effie had initiated. She looked up at him, frowning. "Did I? Did I know?"

"No, 'cause I don't have a dog. You didn't hear her whining all night? Got me out of bed and everything. She's a stray."

Effie looked at the tan colored dog, taking in its appearance: she looked underfed, and Effie realized the dog was shaking. "Like me," Effie said quietly.

"You're not a stray," snapped Haymitch, still eyeing her. "You have a home here," he added a little more gently, and though she kept her eyes on the dog, but she blushed a little.

"Can we keep her?" asked Effie.

"Absolutely not. I can't take care of you, myself, and a bloody stray dog."

"I'll take care of her."

Haymitch snorted, but refrained from telling her that she was no better than him. He bit his tongue to not remind her on most days she couldn't even get out of bed to take care of Effie, so how the hell could she take care of a damn dog?

"We're not keeping it, so don't get attached."

"But it's Christmas," she stated, and he was surprised she knew that. He briefly wondered how she did know that.

"I'm gonna figure out what to do with her as soon as I get outta the shower." He reached into the fridge and pulled out an apple and an orange. "Do me a favor and actually eat today, will you?"

 **XxXxXx**

When Haymitch came back downstairs Effie was nowhere to be found.

Neither was the little demon dog.

It took him a few seconds to realize the shower was running upstairs. That was good. That was a really good sign. Most days he had to beg her to bathe.

Speaking of begging her, Haymitch went over to find evidence that Effie had eaten. He found a knife and a small plate on the kitchen counter, clearly having been cleaned. He also found orange and apple peels in the garbage. Satisfied he left the kitchen, heading towards the living room.

The damn dog had peed everywhere.

Oh, the demon spawn was _so_ out of here.

He muttered and started cleaning up, which is how Effie found him about half an hour later.

"Haymitch, do we have dog food?"

Haymitch stared at her, exasperated at her question and at the fact that she was cuddling the dog. "No. I don't own a dog, so how would I have dog food?"

"Then what am I supposed to feed Harlem?"

Haymitch gaped. " _Harlem_?" He threw down the trash bag and glared at her. "As in the ancient city?"

"No, as in the Harlem Renaissance, which is only the most amazing time in history."

Finding out that Effie liked the Harlem Renaissance nearly distracted him, but he remained focused. "I _told_ you not to get attached. What'd you go and name her for?"

"I couldn't help it! I went upstairs to shower and she _followed_ me. I gave her a bath, too, so she's clean." She stroked the dog, and two of them stared at each other adoringly. "We've bonded, so I gave her a name."

"Effie, I've already made arrangements for her, so please don't get attached." He thought he might bang his head against the coffee table.

"Oh, can't we keep her, Haymitch? Please?"

"Damn it, Effie," he sighed.

"Why not?"

"Because she pees everywhere," snapped Haymitch.

"And _you_ throw up everywhere, but I keep _you_."

He bit his tongue, deciding not to remind her that _he_ was keeping _her_. "You can keep her until next week. That's when they're coming to take her to a shelter. Deal with it." He stalked away, heading out back to feed the geese.

Effie smiled at Harlem. "That means I only have a few days to convince him. Maybe I'll ask Santa to help me."

 **XxXxXx**

Turns out she didn't have to convince him all that much. A couple of days later, after she'd looked _everywhere_ for Harlem, she'd finally decided that she had no choice but to consult Haymitch, so she'd opened his door, her question of if he'd seen her stuck on her lips.

Harlem was there, on Haymitch's chest, and he was _talking_ to her.

"Listen, girl," he was saying, a bottle in his hand, "I'm not gonna tell you again. I've already got _one_ Effie Trinket in my life, I don't need two. Don't look at me like that. You're just like her, you know. A few days together and you're already acting just alike. You boss me around. You nag me. You never leave me alone. I'm jus' tryna drink in peace. Why don't you offer your mother some comfort? Who know what she's doing?"

"She's right here, listening to you talk to a dog." Haymitch squinted at her. "Tell me, does Harlem talk back to you?"

"Shut up," he said, though his lips were twitching. "Come get this little demon."

"Don't _call_ her that," hissed Effie.

"What? She _is_ a demon. She destroyed my bed. Look at all the piss on it."

"Yet you're laying in it." She stepped into his room for the first time since being here, looking around. "It's a mess in here."

"It's the dog's fault." Harlem perked up at that, looking at Haymitch reproachfully.

"Tomorrow we will clean," declared Effie, and she'd sounded so much like her old self that Haymitch couldn't even argue.

That is until Effie woke him up bright and early to start. He thought it was too early to curse her out—it might make her relapse—but she was pushing her luck when she'd thrown away the majority of his bottles. She kept a few, but nowhere near enough….

"You will stop drinking," Effie said. "Harlem says it's bad for you."

Any fight he might have had went away at the statement, and he stared at her, amused.

She'd been using Harlem a lot, ever since last night. " _Harlem says goodnight. Harlem says good morning. Harlem says you should throw that away_."

It was at lunchtime that Effie dropped a major bombshell. "Harlem told me she wanted a tree for Christmas."

Haymitch snarled. "Why, so she could pee on it?"

" _No_. She and I have been working on that." Effie looked down at Harlem, smiling. "I will have her potty trained soon enough. Anyway, it's _Christmas_ , Haymitch, and you can't tell. We should get a tree."

"Do you want a tree, or does Harlem want a tree?"

Effie huffed. "I want a tree, okay?"

Haymitch looked at her. She looked… _better_. Three days with the demon dog and she was fussing and nagging and checking in on him and making him shower and watching how much he drank…. He thought if she kept this up, he could get her a tree.

"Fine. But I want to drink in peace tonight if I get you a tree."

Effie deflated. "Fine. I won't bother you as you attempt to kill yourself and leave me all alone by dying of liver failure due to your abundance of alcohol."

He spent the night decorating the tree with Effie and Harlem, and didn't even touch a bottle. The _one_ time he tried to, when Effie had gone upstairs to change, Harlem had followed him into the kitchen, staring at him accusingly.

If he believed in things like magic, he'd be sure that Effie had made this damn demon dog appear here to keep an eye on him.

He thought maybe he should return the miniature tree he had surprised Effie and Harlem with for their room. It'd serve them right.

The thought quickly escaped when Effie asked him, almost nervously, if he would be kind enough to help her decorate her tree.

Somehow he made sure that Harlem stayed outside, and he wondered what it meant that Effie didn't ask for her.

Later on, once they were finished, he found Harlem in the middle of his bed, her tail wagging, her eyes narrowed.

"She was mine first, you little demon," growled Haymitch. "Don't look at me like I'm sneaking around, stealing time from you. I wouldn't have to steal time from you if you stopped taking up all her time."

Though he couldn't say Harlem spent _all_ her time with Effie. She seemed content to spend the night with him, because he couldn't shoo her away. When he pulled back his covers she hopped on his chest, snuggling in.

She really was like Effie.

At least old Effie.

"You're not gonna get under my skin," he vowed. "I already have _one_ Effie Trinket."

He swore she smiled at him, almost as if to say, 'Yah right.'

Bloody demon dog.

 **XxXxXx**

A knock on the door had Haymitch frowning—no one ever knocked, but Effie was leaving the kitchen and heading towards the door, before he could tell her to come back.

He realized it was because she was expecting someone.

Packages. Lots of them. Haymitch just stared as Effie signed for the packages, and the mailman was gone, and Effie turned and faced all her packages, her hands on her hip.

"What the hell is all this?"

"Several different things. I got us a new couch. Yours is old, and worn. I also got us new wood flooring. We'll install it ourselves—and by we, I mean you and Peeta. It'll be a project for the New Year. There are also tile fixtures for the bathroom and kitchen. Oh, and clothes for me, and a new bedspread for you. Harlem says she's sorry."

At the sound of her name—she was recognizing her name—Harlem prattled over to them, licking Haymitch's feet.

He missed the days where his reaction would be to kick her away. Now he just bent down and picked her up, absentmindedly petting her until he caught the grin of Effie's face.

He dropped the dog.

"You have lost your mind."

He walked away, and missed Effie whispering under her breath. "No. I've found it."

 **XxXxXx**

Haymitch knew he was done for when Peeta walked in on Christmas Eve.

"Where's Effie?" asked Peeta.

"Upstairs showering." Peeta frowned, glancing up the stairs as if he could will Effie down here. "What do you want, boy?"

Peeta sighed. "I might as well just tell you, because it's not going to matter in the end." He stepped outside and then walked back in, carrying a large bag of—

" _Dog food_?"

"How do you think Harlem's been eating these past few days?" asked Peeta. "She's been hiding it at our place, but Katniss and I are gonna go visit her mom in 4, so I bought the bag here."

There were so many things wrong with that statement he didn't know where to start. So he started with the obvious, and decided he wasn't going to touch the other. "Why is Effie hiding dog food?"

"I don't know," shrugged Peeta. "Personally Katniss and I think it gives her something to do. All of us know, including Harlem, that the dog is staying."

"Is not. She's being picked up the day after Christmas."

Peeta smiled at him. "Okay, Haymitch."

"You don't believe me?"

"If Effie's staying, the dog's staying. Everyone knows it. You adore Effie, and Effie adores the dog. Face it: Harlem's apart of the family, and the best thing you could do for Effie is let Harlem stay. And stop drinking," he added that at the last second. Haymitch scowled.

"One thing at a time, boy."

"Give Effie our love, and we hope you two have a Merry Christmas. We'll call you when we get to 4."

He watched Peeta leave, and then stared at the bag of dog food.

Damn dog.

 **XxXxXx**

She had taken to sleeping with him, on his chest, and she was lucky he didn't sleep with his knife anymore, particularly since she tended to lick his face in the early hours of the morning.

She was honestly more trouble than she was worth.

Yet when Christmas morning came, and Effie came flying down the stairs, he was next to Harlem, who was in an oversized gift box, a tiffany blue collar around her neck. Effie halted, stared, and then jumped into his arms, and it was the first real contact they had, and every emotion he'd had for Effie that he thought he'd bottled up came flooding back in seconds.

He thought maybe he wasn't alone when she flushed, refraining from looking him in the eye.

"She's your responsibility, okay? I don't wanna know she's here half the time."

"Deal," beamed Effie, and then she handed him her gift. It was a gold flask with a Mockingjay brand on it. "It was your original Tribute Token, but then I'd found out that you were trying to cut back, so I decided to go with the bangle. It was the right call, I couldn't imagine you giving a _flask_ to Finnick."

Haymitch snorted, fingering the flask. "I thought you wanted me to cut back."

She smiled brilliantly at him. "Darling, you're only allowed to fill this flask once a day, and that's it."

He couldn't decide if it was a gift of punishment at that moment.

 **XxXxXx**

"That's it. She's gone," Haymitch declared, looking around the guest bedroom that was currently _destroyed_.

"She is not. She's _my_ dog now. You gave her to me. She is not yours to decide what to do with."

"She tore up the entire room," muttered Haymitch.

"You tore up your entire house."

"When I was _drunk_."

"Maybe she had some of your liquor."

Haymitch glared at her, but she sent him a smile, and it had him sighing. "Come on, you can stay in my room tonight."

"I think that is what she wanted," Effie said, glancing at Harlem, who was currently in the middle of the bed, her tail wagging as she stared innocently at them, as if she hadn't just chewed up the pillows and blankets and scratched up the furniture.

"What do you mean?" asked Haymitch.

"She's playing matchmaker," Effie stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He snapped his head towards her, but she didn't look at him. "Either that or she wanted a bed to herself."

Haymitch snorted at that and they made their way to his room, where Effie climbed into bed without hesitation, muttering about how good the new comforter would look with drapes.

It was so _domestic_ that Haymitch couldn't help but feel old.

And relieved.

She was back. Effie was back.

"I hope Harlem's all right. It's cold tonight."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "She has _fur_ , Princess." She quieted down and Haymitch realized that he was alone in bed with Effie Trinket for the first time in nearly three years. She seemed to understand it too because she was rigid instead of curled up into his side like she used to do. Then, after a few seconds, she took a deep breath and got more comfortable, and he relaxed. "Matchmaker, huh?" Haymitch snorted into the night.

That seemed to undo it. Effie sat up, looked at him for a second, and then suddenly her lips were on his. He couldn't move, so he just lied there, relishing in her lips against his, and it made him dizzy, how _good_ she felt against his. Even when she pulled away her lips lingered on his.

"Do I need to apologize for that?" Her voice was soft, her eyes dark, and he couldn't even answer her, he just reached up and kissed her back, and his body was responding before his brain was, so that she was on top of him, his hands gripping her waist before he knew what was happening.

"Effie," he said throatily, and his hands were still acting on their own accord and traveling up to her breasts. "Effie, we can't."

"I want to," Effie assured him, her lips on his throat.

"I'll be rough," said Haymitch, still kissing her. He could be gentle, he knew. He had, once before, but not now, not tonight, not when he wanted her so badly that he couldn't even think.

She ignored him, her hands already grabbing fistfuls of his hair, and then his shirt, and then his shirt was over his head, and then those lips were on his chest, and then her lips were just everywhere they shouldn't be, but they should absolutely be.

He still knew her body, and she knew his, and they knew what to do. It was natural. It was _easy_.

And he tried to be gentle, but his body wouldn't allow it, and neither would she, and she felt so _good_ that he didn't know if the noises being made were him or her or a mixture of both of them.

She cried out into the night, his name spilling out of her mouth so readily and easily that he had to force himself to remain calm. It wasn't easy, and she wasn't making it easy, because she kept touching him and whispering his name and moaning and her hands were everywhere, and she kept pleading with him to touch her.

He did as he was told, but his reasoning wasn't completely selfish. He wanted to please her, wanted her happy, because she could use some pleasure and happiness, and so could he, so he did as was demanded of him, and so what if he lost control? _She_ didn't seem to be complaining, not with the way she was saying his name over and over and over again.

She came, arching her back, screaming his name, and he emptied himself into her, moaning out her name. He found his hands in her hair, his lips on hers, to stop himself from telling her he loved her and missed her and they should really do this for the rest of their lives. He couldn't say those things, so he just kissed her until his hips stopped jerking into hers.

When they were finished he could barely breathe.

"Remind me to get that dog gourmet dog food," panted Haymitch.

"Not a demon then?" Effie grinned, snuggling into him.

"What a horrible thing to say," said Haymitch, and Effie laughed.

"Thank you for letting me keep Harlem. I needed her. She reminded me how important it is to survive. Now I can work on helping _you_."

He took a deep breath. "Let me finish my last bottle of liquor, Princess."

"We'll see." That meant no, he knew, but he was okay with that. He thought she might be the only thing to cure him. "You'll get use out of your flask yet."

It was a good gift, he mused, but her keeping Harlem was a better gift. Effie had needed her. And the Yorkie was responsible for a lot of good nights—particularly this night.

"Merry Christmas, Haymitch," Effie said quietly.

"Yes it, was," agreed Haymitch. She shook her head, but he could see her mouth twitching. "Remind me to thank Harlem for tonight."

It wouldn't be the last time he enjoyed merry Christmases, or Harlem nights.


	150. Please Come Home for Christmas

**PLEASE COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS**

 **Rated K**

 _Bells will be ringing this sad, sad news_

 _Oh what a Christmas to have the blues_

 _My baby's gone I have no friends_

 _To wish me greetings once again_

 _The time of year to be with the ones you love_

 _So won't you tell me you'll never more roam_

 _Christmas and new Years will find you home_

 _There'll be no more sorrow no grief and pain_

"What do you mean you can't make it this year?" asked Haymitch.

"I mean there's a huge snowstorm coming in, and there are no trains leaving the Capitol and heading to 12," Effie stated.

Haymitch stared at his phone, dumbfounded, as if the object itself had been the one to deliver the devastating blow. He didn't say anything for several moments, trying to figure out what he was more stunned at: the fact that he was so torn up that she wasn't coming, or the fact that _she wasn't coming_.

"Will you be able to make it for New Year?" He hoped he didn't sound desperate. It wasn't _like_ him. It was just _one_ blasted day, he told himself. It didn't _matter_ that he missed her, and that he'd spent way too much on gifts, and that he'd decorated the house just to surprise her. It'd always been her thing, and the one year he'd tried….

"You know I can't," said Effie softly, and he could hear the regret in her voice. "I have—"

"A Capitol ball to attend," he spat sourly.

"Haymitch I _promise_ I'll spend two weeks out there to make it up to you, okay? In my defense I didn't tell this snowstorm to hit now. It could have waited." Yah, like to when it was time for her to _leave_.

 _That_ thought had him frowning. Of course she had to _leave_. She couldn't _stay_. This was their arrangement…. She came to visit every weekend, and they spent the work week apart, because she was a Capitol socialite, and even though it wasn't the same Capitol, some things would never truly change.

At her core, and in her heart, Effie was a Rebel, but give her a pretty dress and heels and she'd host the hell out of a Capitol party. The thought had him scowling into the phone.

"Don't be angry, Haymitch. It's just a day to you, isn't it? That's what you always say." He bit his tongue, because she was right. He did always tell her that, and he could add this day to the long list of things he just took for granted, because he didn't know what it meant to him until he didn't have it. "Why are you upset? Really?" Haymitch snarled into the phone. "Is it because Katniss and Peeta are married this year? Do you feel lonely?"

Haymitch nearly growled. "Been talking to them, have you?"

"Well Peeta _did_ say you'd been holed up in your house for the past few weeks," and he could hear the amusement in her voice. "You are being quite ridiculous."

"It's their first Christmas together. I thought I'd be thoughtful and give them their space, and that'd mean you and I would have time together, only it's not exactly gonna work out that way, is it Princess?"

Effie paused for a long time. "It's not my fault the weather's bad, Haymitch." She was hurt, he knew.

"I know," sighed Haymitch, his anger deflating. "I'm sorry. I suppose you can spend three weeks making it up to me."

"Oh, three weeks, is it?" Effie laughed and he felt the way his stomach did summersaults.

So she wasn't coming home for Christmas, he thought. Maybe it was time to make it so that by next Christmas, she wouldn't leave, because she was already home.

The thought terrified him a little, but each time he told her goodbye, she took a piece of him with her. Something had to change at sometime, he realized, and keeping her home for Christmas was number one on the list.


	151. Better Late Than Never

" _I'm torn because while I really like the idea of them secretly being together for a couple of years before the war, I also really like them getting together during the Victory Tour. I'd love to see a story that shows how Haymitch decides to give Effie and him a go as he watches Katniss start letting herself love Peeta. The two of them are so much alike that I think once he sees her giving love a chance he chooses to do the same as well." –karmicsamadi86. Didn't think I'd like this prompt, but my brain started working right before I went to bed. The story came, just like that._

 **BETTER LATE THAN NEVER**

 **Rated K**

Years later, when it was all said and done, long after the war, and after Effie had forgiven him, and he'd look back on his life, he'd figure it out. It'd be during one of the newly instated holidays, that weren't so new anymore, and he'd have all the people who mattered most around the table with him. The laughter would be loud, the drinks pouring, the food plentiful.

Katniss would lean into Peeta, her hair grey, and Haymitch would think back to a girl who started to fall for a boy in a cave. She hadn't known it then, that she'd loved Peeta Mellark, but to the rest of the world, it was more than obvious that she cared for him.

It awakened something in him, something he thought he'd drunk away. It was just something about watching them fall in love that made him realize it was okay. That what he was, and what _she_ was, was okay. It was no longer impossible.

She was a spark, his Katniss, and somehow she'd turned that spark into hope.

So when he'd kissed Effie goodbye, that night that would change their lives forever, when the Arena blew up, he was hopeful that she would be safe, and that he would find her after it was all said and done.

That hope was nearly lost once he found her in the Capitol. Bruised. Broken. Destroyed. He'd devoured the first bottle he found to help ease away the guilt, to expunge the stupidity he felt at hoping. How stupid he had been, to do such a thing.

The Capitol had fallen, and the Rebels hadn't thought anything of it, or of his Escort.

He'd stayed by her side the entire time, refusing to leave, refusing to eat, refusing to sleep.

Refusing to hope.

He drank, though.

And sometimes, during a drunken stupor, he'd hold her hand and whisper to her, reminding her about their first time, that night when they'd won. He'd gotten back from telling off Katniss' surgeons and he'd come back to the Penthouse only to find her waiting up for him.

"We won, Haymitch," she had whispered.

"Victors never win, Princess," had been his response, and he was off, headed towards his bedroom, when she said, almost so quietly that he missed it,

"I know."

He stopped and spun around, staring at her. She walked up to him then, her heels clicking, and why she still had them on he'd never understand.

"She's provided a spark, Haymitch. They love her. They love him. They love _them_. Snow will be pissed, of course, and will retaliate. I trust you'll be on your P's and Q's."

Haymitch had just blinked at her.

"I'm going to have to break it down for you, aren't I?" He didn't answer, and she had dragged him to his room, closing the door behind her. She turned on his lamp and then walked up to him, her hand reaching up to her ear.

In a gentle move, she turned to her side so that he could see it.

He could barely make it out.

If you weren't looking for it, you'd never be able to see it, not behind her ear, and if you didn't know what you were looking for, you'd never be able to tell.

He knew what it was as soon as he saw it.

A Mockingjay tattoo.

"You're always so late, Haymitch," she said, as was their custom, because he _was_ always late, and she always reminded him.

"Better late than never, Princess," was his normal response.

It all came together so quickly, and he'd been so relieved that he wasn't actually attracted to a Capitol mannequin but a Rebel overwhelmed him so much that he couldn't even contain himself. He'd ripped off her wig and made her wash her face, which she obliged to without question.

She'd been beautiful, and what happened next seemed obvious, and who made the first move he'd never know or remember, but he'd never, ever forget that night. Not in a million years.

"I almost feel bad for him," Effie whispered afterwards.

"For who?"

She gently pushed him back so that she could look at him. "For that bastard of a president who sits in Office." Her eyes blazed as she stared at him. "Because he thinks it's Katniss he has to worry about, when he should be worried about the man who's teaching her."

Haymitch felt his heart hammering as he stared back at her. "Effie," he said gently, cupping her cheeks, and he thought, for a long time, that maybe that had been the moment he had fallen for her. Then he thought about those moments during the Victory Tour—like in 11, when those gunshots rang out, and he'd grabbed her first—might have been his proof about how he felt about her.

He'd been wrong, but it's what he told her when she asked him a few years later after the war, after she'd been in 12 for a couple of years, after she'd stopped hating him for leaving her behind. He made up for it, she'd tell him after a few years, by taking care of her and bringing her back around, because when she'd showed up, she'd been just as broken and confused as when he'd found her in that cell.

That was years ago. Many years ago. Now he knew better. He'd fallen for Effie when Katniss had fallen for Peeta.

They were too alike in too many ways. Haymitch had lost count. It took them nearly losing the most important people in their lives for them to see how much they loved them. They were both fortunate to have such patient partners.

Blind, he and Katniss were, the both of them. Sorry excuses for friends and lovers.

But they'd been taught how to love, by people they could live a hundred lifetimes for and still not deserve. They could both do way worse.

On that night, that night of the Christmas dinner, where they were eating, drinking, and being merry—something that was custom for all the Districts now—he pulled Effie close to him once they climbed into bed. She still hadn't changed much, not in forty years. She was still just as beautiful as the day he fell for her.

She snuggled into him, like she always did, her hand resting on his heart.

"I remember why I fell for you, and when," he told her into the night. "The _real_ time and reason."

"Well do tell," said Effie, and he could hear the smile in her voice. He told her, taking special care to explain it all to her. He still had trouble telling her that he loved her, though he'd managed to do so a few times over the years. She no longer needed convincing of his feelings, but if she ever doubted him, even the teeniest little bit, it was gone after this story. She sighed, and it was a happy sound. "I always knew that it was during the Games. You're always so late, Haymitch."

She hadn't said to him in a while. She hadn't really had a reason to. But the familiar words made him smile. He pulled her to him, kissed her forehead, and repeated the phrase he'd spoken so many times.

"Better late than never, Princess."


	152. Christmas Kiss

_Hey guys! Please remember that with prompts, they're first come, first serve basis, so even though I tend to write them when I get them, I don't post them that fast. The next prompt I post after the CHRISTmas ones are still from back in OCTOBER… so please don't think I hated your prompt or I'm not doing it… I just haven't posted it yet because there are tons of ones before you. There are 27 prompts I have written, and I'm still getting requests daily. Plus there are the one shots that come from my own head. So please be patient with me while you're waiting to see your prompts, and don't let the fact that you haven't read a particular one discourage you from requesting more. Enjoy this one-shot in the meantime, it's set FAR into the future =)_

 **CHRISTMAS KISS**

 **Rated K**

Effie sighed, taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes. She was _exhausted_ , but she knew she had to finish this letter of recommendation for Willow. The girl was determined to get into Design School, and Effie was an excellent reference. It normally wasn't like her to wait until the last minute, but she didn't have the time she used to. She found herself wondering _again_ how she had managed to handle it all those years ago as an Escort.

 _Because you had to_ , she reminded herself. One wrong move, and everyone would know she was a Rebel. She had to keep up her appearances, her schedules, her _manners_.

Now that the war had passed and she could relax a little, she found that sometimes she was a little overwhelmed. This month had been busy with all decorations and parties and gifts, not to mention the fact that Effie was trying to spend every waking moment with everybody since this could very well be their last Christmas with everyone. Ash was already gone, though he always came home. Willow and Ava would be gone by next fall. With Ash it had been easier. He was six years older than everyone else.

But after Willow and Ava everyone else would just… disappear.

Perhaps that was the true reason why she'd procrastinated with Willow's letter. If she was good at anything, it was multi-tasking. So she had gone overboard with gifts, and had decorated the house more so than ever. She still could have found time, yet she had purposely waited until the very last moment.

She wouldn't admit it, but it certainly had taken her out of the Christmas spirit.

Sighing she put her glasses back on and went back to typing up her letter.

Ten minutes later her glasses were off again and she was rubbing her eyes.

At that moment Haymitch shifted next to her, and her tired blue eyes rested on him. She was envious of the fact that he got to sleep while she was up all night writing this essay that would ultimately force her _other_ daughter to whisk off to the Capitol.

She could do this, she told herself.

Still, when Haymitch shifted again she found herself staring at him, frowning. She hoped he wasn't having a nightmare. He had been doing well. They came in spurts—she still had her fair share too—but they were better now.

He was still the most handsome man she'd ever known, even at this age. His hair was completely white now, but still as thick and curly as ever. He _still_ wore the beard, though now it was mostly shaved. They still argued about it, just like they argued about how long he kept his hair. His face had more lines now, but he had never looked better to her.

Before she realized it she leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He moaned softly, his eyes immediately flickering open. They were still as bright as she remembered from all those years ago, when she'd first seen him on her television screen, and when she'd met him in person. But now they were filled with warmth and love as opposed to quiet indifference and contempt.

"What was that for, Princess?" asked Haymitch sleepily.

"Because it's Christmas, and I'm your wife, so I can," Effie smiled, and to prove it, she kissed him again. He deepened the kiss, nearly causing the laptop on her lap to fall in between them.

"Then Merry fricking Christmas to us," said Haymitch smugly. He stretched. "You still wriitn' that blasted letter? It's taken you two weeks now."

Effie sighed. "I know. I'm almost finished. I just wish Willow was like Ava, and had stayed a little closer to home. 4 is only a few hours away, unlike the Capitol. Or I wish they could go out there together."

"Yah, well, you can't study marine biology in the Capitol, and you can't study fashion and modeling in 4. They'll be fine. Ash is. He's great."

Effie sighed. "I know." She closed the computer and sat it on the nightstand, promising herself she'd finish it first thing in the morning. She reached over and turned off her lamp and snuggled into Haymitch's side.

He bent down and kissed her forehead, and then her lips again. "Just wanted one more, you know, because it's Christmas."

Effie smiled herself to sleep.


	153. A Better Christmas

_Consider this a sequel to Please Come Home for Christmas (Chapter 150). Got a few people asking for a continuation, and I did lay it on pretty thickly, didn't I? Haymitch had went and decorated the house, and he really wanted to spend it with her, but she just couldn't make it? Nah. Couldn't let it happen._

 **A BETTER CHRISTMAS**

 **Rated T**

"Haymitch?" she called, opening the door and immediately dropping her bag. She quickly stepped inside, brushing the snow off of her, and closed and locked the door behind her.

"Honestly, woman, can't you and the boy do without me for _five bloody minutes_?" Haymitch grumbled as he made his way down the stairs. " _What_ is it, Sweet… heart?" He stopped dead in his tracks.

It was clear he was fresh out the shower, as was she. She'd strategically waited until they were half an hour away from 12 before freshening up.

Haymitch's hair was still wet, he was barefoot, a pair of grey sweats on his waist, and he was still pulling a crewneck over his head. He was stuck somewhere in limbo from shock: one arm was through one armhole, the other arm not so much. It was actually quite amusing, and Effie felt her mouth twitching.

"Well it's not often I catch you off guard," Effie mused with a smile.

Haymitch just continued to blink at her, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. She supposed he couldn't. She had told him, after all, that she wouldn't be able to make it home for Christmas this year.

"I thought you were Katniss," Haymitch finally stated.

Effie arched an eyebrow. "Really? And I thought you told me once I had a distinctly annoying voice. Katniss sounds the same now?"

She thought it'd make him laugh, the memory when they'd first met and she was telling him off about _something_ , and he'd interrupted her to let her know exactly what he thought about her voice. But apparently he was truly shocked at her being in front of him right now.

"It _sounded_ like you, but I didn't think it was actually you. I thought I heard your voice because I _missed_ you." Effie could tell the admission was an accident because of the way he frowned. He put his shirt on properly and walked down the stairs. "What are you doin' here?"

"Well after we hung up it dawned on me that the _Capitol_ didn't have a train coming to 12, but other Districts probably did. It was just a matter of finding the quickest route. I flew into District 3 and caught a train from there to 12." She felt quite pleased with herself, aside from the fact that she was quite a few hours late. "I'm sorry I didn't make it on Christmas, but as you're not asleep yet, technically it's not the next day yet."

She was reaching, but it made him smile nonetheless. He walked up to her, cupping her cheeks, noting how cold her face was. He kissed her lips, but quickly.

"You shoulda told me you were here. It's _freezing_ outside."

"Then warm me up," Effie said.

He smirked and pulled her towards him, only he bypassed the couch and sat her in the chair closest to the fireplace. He then immediately walked to the closet, grabbing fresh firewood, and tended to the fire.

"This is not what I meant," muttered Effie, and he glared at her from over his shoulder. She gave him a sheepish smile and took the time to look around.

He'd decorated everything, she noticed. He _never_ decorated. Getting him to do so was like pulling teeth. Yet the entire living room was decked out. There was a wreath hanging above the fireplace, garland on the mantle, stockings underneath it with an E and an H. She could tell he'd actually made the letters by hand because they were crooked. There was also mistletoe placed strategically around, and there was a huge tree in front of the largest window.

"I didn't decorate it because we were supposed to decorate it together," Haymitch stated, and she could hear the underlining embarrassment in his voice. She figured he was quite annoyed with himself for going soft.

She thought she had never been more in love with than in this moment.

"I am sorry I missed it. It's beautiful. Tomorrow we'll go and get decorations and decorate it." She looked around. "I had no idea you were doing all this. No wonder you were so upset over the phone when I said I couldn't come."

"It doesn't matter," shrugged Haymitch. "It was supposed to be a surprise, but you're here now. That's good enough for me."

She _felt_ the tears, but knew him well enough to know that he would _not_ appreciate them, so she blinked them away, staring along curiously as he left the fireplace and walked over to the couch, taking off the seat cushions. He placed them near the fireplace, and then did the same thing with the cushions from the loveseat. He also added the pillows.

Throwing his duvet at her he headed towards the stairs. "I'll go get our comforter," he told her, and Effie grinned. She thought since he went through all this trouble of trying to surprise her, she could do the same. She undressed quickly – not that it was all that difficult. She hadn't worn anything under her winter trench coat. She hid the coat beside the couch so that Haymitch wouldn't see it, and then covered herself with the duvet.

When Haymitch came back downstairs he had their goose-down cover wrapped around him. She laughed at the way he crawled onto the cushions, and then they both gasped when they felt the skin-on-skin contact.

"You little vixen," he said, his voice already husky.

Effie shifted, gripping him. "Doesn't seem like you mind all that much." Her own voice was breathy.

"I don't mind at all, Princess." His lips captured hers, and her body immediately reacted.

One simple kiss and her head was spinning.

Maybe the kiss wasn't so simple.

He covered her body with his, his lips hardly leaving hers, even as he ground into her. She sighed, whispering his name during the rare moments he allowed her to breathe.

She secured herself around him when they were finished, slightly out of breath. It wasn't what she had expected from him, not when it'd been a few weeks since they'd last seen each other. She was always her busiest around the holidays. She thought he would be quite rough and brutal, and quick to release, because there was always time for soft and gentle later.

She found she didn't mind the change of pace all that much.

"I have something for you," he told her several moments later.

"Well that's fine, because I have something for you too."

"I had something for you first." Effie laughed, wrapping the duvet around her and heading towards her suitcase. Haymitch got up, in all his naked glory, and grabbed a gift from under the tree. Then they made their way back to their pallet.

"Me first," Effie said with a smile, and she shoved her gift at him before he could say anything.

It was heavy and thick, and he had no clue what it could be, so he wasted on time in taking off the wrapping paper.

He was stunned to see a band of books: _American Literature, Volumes A-F._ They were old and obviously the original copies.

"Effie," whispered Haymitch.

"I remember you told me a long time ago you liked American literature. I've been searching for these for _ages_ , and they _finally_ became available. Do you like it?"

He was quite touched, he realized, because he knew this was an expensive gift, and it was thoughtful, and _he_ didn't remember telling her that tidbit of information, but _she_ had remembered, and he wanted to tell her thank you, only his throat was currently clogged pretty tightly.

"Do you hate it? I'm sorry."

"I don't hate it," Haymitch said quietly. "Thank you, Effie. This means…." He hated that he could never quite articulate how he felt, but he thought he should try. He looked at her. "This means to me about as much as you do."

That seemed do it. Her eyes widened and they filled with tears. She blinked them away, refusing to let them fall, but she cleared her throat and gave him a watery smile. He leaned in and kissed her, and she responded.

"Your turn," said Haymitch, his voice still slightly gruff. He handed her the box and she opened it.

She gasped. Loudly. "Oh my _God_." She pulled out the necklace. It was _beautiful_. A pink, three – no, three and a half— carat tear shaped diamond necklace. It was heavy, and _definitely_ real, and absolutely mind-blowing.

She was quite convinced she would never, ever take it off.

"I think for once I am speechless."

Haymitch snorted. "That'll be the day."

He was joking, but she jumped his bones nonetheless. Afterwards he put the necklace on, and then he pulled her close.

"You'll be here next year," Haymitch told her, his arms wrapped around her.

"Yes," agreed Effie, "And I will bring the New Year in with you, too."

"Good." He buried his face in her neck, taking in her scent, his lips occasionally kissing her.

"How much did you drink?" asked Effie softly after a few moments. She'd thought about all the trouble he'd gone through this year, only to be told she wasn't coming.

He tensed, just a little. "I didn't drink _anything_ ," he told her. He stayed quiet for several moments. "I wanted to. I was _lonely_ , okay? And bored. Except the kids wouldn't leave me alone for more that five minutes at a time—and I suspect that was _your_ doing." It was. After she'd hung up from Haymitch explaining why the storm wouldn't let her come to 12 for the holidays she'd immediately called Katniss and Peeta and told them to watch Haymitch like a hawk. "They asked me to come over for dinner, which I declined, and then twenty minutes later they're showing up with all the food. We had dinner here. We all fell asleep during a movie, and I'd just sent them off and showered when you came. That's why I figured you were her."

"I think you have a very sweet Christmas," Effie told him after a while.

"It was okay," Haymitch answered. "But it's better with you."

Everything always was.


	154. The Good in Goodbye

**THE GOOD IN GOODBYE**

 **Rated T**

In all their years together, he still wasn't quite good at goodbye.

Effie came to visit, every weekend, and arrived at the same time, every time. Still, it didn't make it any easier. It didn't matter how long she stayed—if she stayed for a week, or only a day, or just the weekend—none if it mattered. They always went too quick, and they were never long enough.

 _Don't be a stranger_ had turned into their mantra, and she visited for the first time about a month after Peeta returned. She hadn't even told anyone she'd show up—one day she was just _there_ , and he'd been so dumbfounded he'd just stared at her.

That would explain why she hadn't called him the night before.

He'd actually thought she was tired of him. They'd had their first _real_ fight, because he'd seen her on the television in the Capitol on what looked suspiciously like a _date_. His heart had failed him, because she looked _beautiful_ in her dress, her face void of any makeup, her hair her own, and she was smiling and waving at the cameras, some _peacock_ draped around her arm.

He had accused of her not even being brave enough to call it off, and how _stupid_ was it that she still kept up the façade by even calling him, and _on time too_. She had let him rant, not saying a word, until he finally paused for breath.

"Are you quite finished?" she had asked him coldly, and he thought he should tell her off for sounding upset when _he_ was the one being cheated on—for all that talk about him being an eligible bachelor, _she_ was the unfaithful one. Yet it was something about her question that had him pausing. "I'll have you know that that was Syri, Cinna's Mentor. He's in charge of Cinna and Portia's Estate. Cinna and Portia left me _several_ designs and we've been meeting up over the past few months. And for your _bloody_ information, he is _gay_ and _very_ happy with his partner."

He'd paused for several moments. He hadn't expected that. "Well… you don't know the affect you have on people. You could make them straight for all I know."

She'd hung up on him then, and he realized how stupid he was, and he nearly lost it when she didn't answer the phone or pick up the next night.

And then she had knocked on his door, a bag in her hand, the pink ribbon he'd gotten for her threaded into her hair, and he'd barely had time to close the door before she was all over him, and he had one pants legs off and her dress was lifted up and he spilled himself into her so quickly he was nearly embarrassed, except she'd cum just as quickly as he had.

The first time she left again he wasn't sure how to act.

The fact that she wouldn't be a stranger both thrilled him and worried him. He refrained from asking her when she'd visit again, but realized that he didn't have to—she was there the next weekend, and the weekend after that, until he started knowing when to expect her.

But the goodbyes… they'd never gotten easier.

He thought maybe _this_ was the good in goodbye, right here, right now, in this moment.

The way his heart pounded every time she knocked on his door, letting him know of her arrival.

The way she smiled at him as soon as their eyes locked.

The way she rushed into his arms, dropping her bags, squealing as she buried her face in his neck, her legs wrapping around his waist.

The good in goodbye was when he finally let her go and she stared at him, her eyes twinkling, her face flushed. "Hello, Haymitch," she said softly.

He kissed her lips, slowly but hungrily, his hands cupping her cheeks. "Merry Christmas, Princess."

It was different this time, he thought. It wasn't their first Christmas by any means, but something had changed this year. This would be the first _New Year_ they spent together, though. Normally she was back in the Capitol by the first of the year, hosting some Capitol Ball, being the socialite she always was, minus the costumes and the clown makeup.

This year she said she wanted to bring in the New Year with him, and it struck a cord with him, he realized, as he moved in and out of her. The faint glow of the Christmas tree in their room allowed him to watch her as she grew breathless, and gasped out her orgasm.

He quickly followed behind her, burying his face in her neck, the coolness of her pink diamond necklace welcome against the heat of his flesh. She pushed him back so that she could kiss him, and if she weren't careful, she'd set him over the edge again.

"That was _incredible_ ," she said, moving his hair out of his face.

"Much better than some stupid New Year's kiss," said Haymitch with a smirk.

"Oh shut up." She grinned at him and he turned over, pulling her so that she was practically on top of him. He planted lazy kisses on her shoulder and neck. "Don't you dare get me all worked up again. I have to leave soon."

He stiffened against her. "What?"

"Yes, my train leaves in a few hours."

He blinked at her. "What happened to spending the New Year together?"

"We bought it in together, but I have to get back. I have a very important—"

"Why can't you just stay?"

"Oh don't be silly, Haymitch," stated Effie, and he frowned once he realized he _wasn't_ being silly.

"I'm serious," he said, sitting up to look at her. "I want you to stay this time."

She laughed, throwing her head back. "Don't be ridiculous. We can't live together. We'd kill each other."

His eyes darkened and he scowled, turning over.

Effie's heart started pounding. "Haymitch… Haymitch are you _serious_?"

"Didn't I just _bloody_ say that?"

She sat there, frozen, for several moments, until she came to her senses. She gently pressed her lips to his back, ignoring the way he stiffened, and continued to kiss him until his body relaxed.

"You always used to say the good in goodbye was in being able to say hello," she murmured. He turned around and captured her lips with his. "How long have you wanted me to stay?"

"I don't know," he breathed, kissing her neck. "I just… I'm tired of saying goodbye. It's been a few years, Effie, and… _fuck_ I miss you when you're not here, okay?"

"Well why didn't you just say that, you insufferable fool?" Her voice cracked at the end and he noticed the tears in her eyes. "I've only been waiting for you to ask me for _ages_."

Haymitch kissed her until she slid on top of him again.

"Let's have a toasting," he mumbled against her throat, and the words were out before he could stop them. She gasped and pushed him away, looking at him.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" Her eyes were wide, and he realized that yes, he was asking her to marry her.

"What do you think, Princess?" His smirk was lost when she showered him with a million kisses, peppering him all over his face.

He figured they could just enjoy the honeymoon first, he thought with a smirk.

And perhaps the best thing, the _true_ good in goodbye, was in not having to say it at all.

 _Continuation from Please Come Home for Christmas (Chapter 150) and A Better Christmas Chapter 153). Wrote this before I wrote A Better Christmas, and I love how it still matched._


	155. Of New Years and Newlyweds

" _As for an NYE thing, maybe Paylor reinstates the dropping of the ball, like they have in Times Square (not American, so I've only seen it on telly) and Effie drags Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta to watch. Xoxo." –BlackCat46. I like this because I get to add in the fact that I wanted more requests of Haymitch going back to the Capitol so woohoo._

 _Happy New Year, everyone! I love that I get to bring it in with all of you enjoying these prompts. I look forward to more stories and ideas in 2016. Leave me some great prompts for the new year! All you be safe. Christmas prompts are done! =)_

 **OF NEW YEARS AND NEWLYWEDS**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch stuck his key in the door, turned it, and then walked inside. He locked it behind him and then immediately made his way to the living room, noting she'd changed the décor _again_. Every single time he came to visit her she had done something else to her condo.

He took it all in without taking it all in. He just made his way to the living room, where he heard the television.

It was late, but he was still surprised to find Effie asleep on the couch. She was sleeping in one of his many shirts that she'd stolen over the years whenever she came to visit him. He used to call her to ask if she had moved it somewhere—she had taken to organizing his house as well, and now he had summer clothes down in the basement, his master closet only filled with the things of the current season. Once he realized that every shirt he was missing she had stolen from him he stopped asking if she'd seen it. He knew the answer was yes, she'd seen it, and she was probably wearing it.

He wasn't at all surprised to see one of his flannel shirts covering her body now. He'd been looking for that one for weeks, convinced she wouldn't have taken it because it was old and tattered, but it was comfortable. It was his traveling flannel and he'd had every intention of wearing it to the Capitol.

He wondered how quickly he could take it off of her.

She didn't have a blanket covering her, and he thought he should just climb on top of her and start kissing her, only he found himself pausing at the arm of the couch, quite taken with her beauty. He never thought he'd be _taken_ by someone's beauty before, but this was Effie Trinket, former model and current socialite.

He looked down at her, taking in her porcelain skin and pouty lips just _begging_ to be kissed. He placed his suitcase down next to him and bent down and planted his lips firmly on hers, not even caring that she was upside down, his hands immediately slithering up and down her body until he finally clutched her breasts and squeezed.

Effie responded immediately with a soft moan and then a gentle gasp, and he used that time to consider it an invitation and slid his tongue into her mouth. Her hands slid up, cupping the back of his head, deepening the kiss even more. He slid his fingers inside his shirt, feeling the swell of her breasts. She gasped again and gently pushed him away, sitting up and turning around to face him.

"You are early," Effie stated, sitting up and facing him, still on the couch, her fingers undoing the buttons on the shirt he'd been forced to wear.

"Couldn't sleep," muttered Haymitch, craning his neck so that he could steal another kiss. He wouldn't tell her it was because he missed her. "I caught an earlier train." By now she finished unbuttoning his shirt and was placing strategic kisses down to his navel. When her hands reached for his belt buckle he threw his head back.

He let her please him until the temptation to return the favor became unbearable. He slipped out of his shoes and stepped out of his pants and walked around, where he pulled her to him and kissed her until his head started to spin. He slipped his fingers underneath his shirt, moving aside her underwear, and slid a finger inside of her.

She buckled against him, a strained moan exiting from her mouth. He sat her down on the couch and got on his knees on the floor, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and removing it from her flesh as she attacked his lips. Somehow she slipped out of her underwear and pulled him to her.

She slid her hands around his waist, her legs spread, and he slipped into her, almost violently, and very impatiently. She cried out into the night, throwing her head back, and he gripped her to keep her in place. She met his thrusts, groaning loudly, so that he nearly lost his balance. He pushed her back, forcing her to lie flat on the couch, her legs wrapped around him. His hands fondled her breasts and her body bucked as her first orgasm hit her. She sat up and wrapped her arms around him, screaming his name.

He pulled out and turned her over, forcing her on the floor with him so that her stomach was against the couch. She buried her face in the seat cushion, palming her hands and gripping the white leather. He showed her no mercy, his hands gripping her breasts as his hips pounded into her, never relenting, because it'd been _weeks_ since he last saw her, and he had _missed_ her, damn it, and this whole long distance, bi-District relationship was taking its toll.

He blacked out from pleasure for a few minutes, and somehow they both ended up flat on the couch, him on top, her legs in the air, his entire body slamming down on top of hers with each thrust. He pounded into her, hard, and she stuttered out his name, cumming again so hard that she forced them back on the floor, where she rode him like a woman possessed.

He supposed there'd be time for gentle at some point, but for now lust was leading them. He gripped her hips, forcing her in deeper, muttering her name over and over again. She came, burying her face in his neck, keeping the same pace so that it finally drove him over the edge. He cursed, loudly, as they rode out their orgasms together. He silenced her cries with another kiss, and even with his lips on hers she was still making noises.

He lost track of how long they stayed there, on the floor, next to the couch, too weak to move. At some point he grabbed her duvet and covered them, and he figured she was too spent to make a fuss about it.

He dosed off at some point, waking up to lazy kisses. This time he let her lead, and she just rode him until they both came again. His breath caught in his throat at the way she kept her eyes locked with his, a gentle smile on her face.

"I'm glad you are here. There's no one I'd rather bring in the New Year with," she whispered, and then she sped up, just a little, and he came, Effie following behind him.

The next time he woke up the sun was up, and Effie was nowhere to be found, though he figured she was in the kitchen since he could smell coffee. He was still naked as the day he was born, though, and since he couldn't find his clothes anywhere he wrapped himself with her blanket and made his way to the kitchen.

She wasn't in there, but then he heard the shower running.

Haymitch figured the weekend would be full of hot sex, and that they'd probably miss the New Year's Eve party she had invited him to. He made his way to her shower where he took her against the tile, and then the glass door. He had liked her glass door so much he'd told her he wanted to install one back home, because it was something erotic about seeing Effie pressed against the glass door, his hands gripping her breasts, and being able to watch them in the vanity mirror.

Afterwards she untangled herself from him and sunk down to the floor, content that she was probably going to drown.

He decided to join her.

At some point they cleaned themselves off and finally left the shower.

"You need a haircut," Effie stated, looking him over. "I shall make an appointment with Flavius."

"I don't need a haircut," argued Haymitch. "I had Katniss cut it before I left."

"Katniss is not a barber. _Clearly_." She disapproved, he could tell, but she'd never talk bad about the kids. And today was really important to her, so he knew there was no sense in arguing. "When do they come in?"

"Their train should be here in an hour."

"Good. We'll pick them up and get something to eat, yes?"

Haymitch shrugged. "We can do whatever. I just don't wanna be out unless we have to." He was still nervous about coming here, she knew. They'd been doing this long-distance relationship for years now, long before the Games were over, but back then it'd been illegal to travel outside of your District. Things were different now, and since Katniss was no longer under house arrest they were all allowed to travel more.

But Haymitch still hated the Capitol, mostly.

Not all things Capitol per say, because he certainly had a thing for Effie Trinket, but he didn't like the city or most of its people.

"We can order in, it's fine." She didn't blame him for hating the Capitol. She had hated it for a long time too, but it was home, and instead of abandoning it, she vowed to make it a better place. However she was certainly getting tired of the long distance thing. She knew he'd never move here, but maybe it was time to move with him.

New year, new life.

It was something to ponder, and she blamed the kids' wedding a few months ago for putting these silly thoughts in her head. She wasn't sure if Haymitch was ready for such a big step. Granted things were better than ever with them. They were older, and yes, they still fought like cats and dogs, but there were lines they didn't cross, and the make up sex was always incredible.

"I need to call and check on the hotel reservations," Effie stated, clearing her had, and then she was off, leaving him alone to finish getting ready. He dressed casually, because Effie wouldn't care since she was used to it, and he knew he had to wear something prestigious tonight.

Frankly he just wanted to see what Effie would wear. No one had known Effie's body better than Cinna—aside from Haymitch himself—and since the stylist had known that Effie and Haymitch had had a _thing_ , Cinna had always designed the tightest, hottest, body-hugging outfits he could on Effie that always left Haymitch panting and wanting more.

He assumed tonight would be no different.

Eventually he joined Effie in the kitchen. She gave him a soft smile and handed him a cup of coffee, laced with white liquor. He was only allowed two glasses a day, three when he was home, and as difficult as it was, he obliged.

"Okay so I have _a lot_ to do today," Effie started, already looking at her clipboard. "I have to run to the office and help Plutarch and Paylor. I also have to help decorate the space for tonight. At some point I need to get to Cinna's and grab the outfits for tonight. Unfortunately I do not have time to play host. I think after we get the kids and eat you three will have to be on your own until tonight's event."

Haymitch refrained from pouting. He wasn't here for some stupid New Year's Eve event; he was here because Effie had wanted him to come. He wanted to spend time with her, and with her naked, and he couldn't do that if she was out and about in the Capitol. She seemed to know what he was thinking.

"I promise I'm all yours tomorrow," said Effie with a small smile. Haymitch shrugged, standing up and pouring himself another cup of coffee, this time without the liquor.

"Do we have time to go another around before we pick up the kids?"

Effie tensed, just a little, her eyes traveling to the clock on her microwave. She would never admit that if it came to no sex and picking the kids up on time she'd choose sex and picking them up late, so she pretended to make a fuss about it, but nonetheless he picked her up and had her on top of the table.

 _God_ the man was a god.

…

Haymitch watched as Effie walked the red carpet, smiling and waving to the crowd. They still adored her here, he realized. Granted not everyone did. She'd had a pretty hard time after the war once people realized what side she was on. She was stronger than he thought she was, and had flat-out refused to move back to 12 with him. She told him she was not a coward, and would not do such a thing. The first couple of years she was miserable, but things were better now.

Haymitch could hear Caesar in the distance, calling for Effie to come near him for an interview.

"Stop drooling," snapped Johanna, and Haymitch scowled at her. "Why aren't you walking the red carpet with her?"

"Mind your business," Haymitch responded, and he moved away from her, not too keen on letting her know that she was playing with his insecurities. He much rather _would_ have liked to walk the red carpet with her, only he didn't exactly know how to tell her that, so she walked it by herself, as was their custom.

They didn't do _public_.

By no means were they hiding each other. They'd gotten passed that point in their lives. But they certainly didn't go out of their way to have people see them together. If they attended an event they might not walk in together, but they were seated next to each other or dancing together, and they _certainly_ always left together. The cameras seemed to always capture them together, though they never posed for pictures, and Effie always came back to 12 with pictures of them in magazines.

He had wanted to walk the red carpet with her.

He was still having a hard time swallowing that.

Until he saw some stupid Capitol with orange hair approaching her, and he was being _way_ too friendly with her. She wasn't trying to entertain him, but he wasn't really getting the hint. When her smile became strained Haymitch headed towards them, his stride purposeful.

"She's not interested, so scram," spat Haymitch, and he wrapped his arms around her waist and led her away. He could hardly hold off his scowl and barely saw the cameras flashing at the sight of them.

"Don't start, Haymitch. I don't know what it is about you seeing a man talk to me in the Capitol, but it's like we're back in the Games all over again. You are never this upset when a man from 12 tries to talk to me."

"That's because men tremble in 12 when it comes to me. They don't stand a chance. Out here everyone still looks at me like the fallen Victor from District 12."

Effie sighed. "This is not the same Capitol, Haymitch."

"You can't tell me ole orange head wasn't hitting on you."

"Yes he was, he always does, and I always tell him the same thing I tell anyone else who tries: I am _very_ happily taken, and am most definitely _not_ interested."

Haymitch stopped walking and Effie turned to face him. "That's what you tell men from the Capitol?"

"That's what I tell men from anywhere," answered Effie softly. He stared at her for a second, and then tucked a stray hair behind her ear. He almost forgot where they were. "I have a confession: I might have asked him to come over here and flirt with me. I miss seeing you all riled up on my behalf."

" _Now_ who's acting like we're at some fancy party during the Games?" She'd been _famous_ for that, especially back when he was still unsure of how he felt. She used to flirt with men to get his attention, mainly Chaff and Finnick, people who were supposed to be his _friends_ , and it'd always drive him up a wall….

"It's just nice to know I can still make you jealous," she purred. He pulled her to him and she threw back her head and laughed, a few of her curls falling loose.

"You're not funny," growled Haymitch, but he found himself grinning too. "Pull another stunt like that and no sex for a week."

"Oh please." She straightened his tie, both of them forgetting that they were on the red carpet. "You couldn't stay off of me that long when we're around each other if you tried."

"Yah, yah, whatever. Let's get this over with so I can get to _undressing_ you."

"Cheer up. It's New Year's Eve, you get an extra glass of champagne, and you look as handsome as ever. Please be on your best behavior."

"What'll you do if I am?"

Effie grinned. "I'm sure I can think of a thing or two."

He smiled, linking her hand in his. "I'll certainly drink to that."

She stared at him for a few more moments, and then her eyes traveled down to their hands. He gripped them tighter and her eyes widened in surprise.

They walked the rest of the red carpet together, her hand firmly clutched in his.

…

"So what are we waiting for again?" asked Katniss.

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "For the ball to drop, Sweetheart. Only a few more minutes. We better get our partners. I'll have a fit if Peeta ends up kissing Effie tonight."

"That'd be a shame. I really like Effie, and I'd hate to have to kill her."

"Same with Peeta, especially figuring he just became your husband and all," Haymitch agreed, and the two of them headed to the dance floor, where Peeta and Effie had been dancing for the past few minutes.

It was hard to focus on anything that wasn't Effie. He supposed he was having a good time…. The food was good, the drinks even better, and the company wasn't half bad. He'd seem Beetee, Johanna, Gale, Paylor, and Plutarch, but he couldn't remember much of his conversations with them.

He'd been too busy staring at Effie.

She was perfect tonight. Her dress was… distracting to say the least, and he'd tried— _very_ unsuccessfully—to convince her to sneak into a bathroom and take it off of her. It was a sexy, round neck long sleeved backless lace mermaid shaped dress that left _very_ little to the imagination. She was barely covered yet she was entirely covered. It was enough for him to imagine all the places that were hidden, and he swore with his entire life that he would have her out of the dress before they even made it back to the hotel.

He had already told Peeta and Katniss they were on their own in regards to them getting back to the hotel.

Effie flashed him a brilliant smile when she saw him. She excused herself from Peeta and was in Haymitch's arms within a few seconds. They danced together in silence, her head resting on his chest.

When it was about ten minutes until midnight Effie pushed him back. "Meet me upstairs on the balcony, okay?" She didn't have to tell him where to go. Haymitch would be a Rebel until he died, and she already knew he knew he ins and outs of the building they were in.

"Why?" asked Haymitch.

"Because. I'll go get the drinks and I'll be up there in a minute." She was gone before he could argue, so he went ahead and made his way out the doors and upstairs. He found himself staring out at the city, its lights and buildings glittering and sparkling. The Capitol still had Christmas decorations up and it was quite scintillating and picturesque. He could see the crowd down below waiting for the ball to drop. He and Effie should be out there with them, but somehow he preferred the two of them being alone.

"It can be quite beautiful, can't it?" asked Effie softly.

Haymitch turned and looked at her. "I think if you learn to look passed the surface, you can see beauty in anything." He'd never been much a poet, but she'd _changed_ him.

She smiled and blushed, handing him his glass of champagne. He took it and sat it down on the edge, Effie following suit. He wrapped his arms around her and they stared out at the view. They could see Paylor talking to the crowd on one of the many screens that would show the dropping of the ball.

"Thank you for coming, Haymitch. I know starting the New Year in the Capitol probably wasn't what you wanted, but I wanted to bring in the year with you. Tonight's about being with the ones you love."

He placed his lips on her neck. "Is that what you want? To spend New Years with me? Because I can think of a few ways that can happen." Effie felt her heart stop. She held her breath. "I have no problem spending New Year's Eve with you, but is it all I wanna spend with you?" His lips found that sensitive part at the top of her neck and she shivered. "I could seriously spend every day with you. You could come back with me to 12, you know."

Effie gripped him and turned around so that she was looking at him. "Are you asking me to move in?"

"Yah. But I'm also asking you to marry me, Princess." He slid his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small Tiffany's box. She gasped, snatching it out of his hand and opening it. He snorted, only slightly nervous. He figured she'd say yes. He _needed_ her to say yes.

She cleared her throat several times and then looked at him with bright eyes. "I'm always changing my apartment, you know."

"Yah, I noticed." Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the crowd counting down from sixty.

"I can't make up my mind about how I want it. I buy things and then don't know what to do with them. I can't make it a _home_. At first I thought it was because I hated the Capitol, that I'd never consider it home again. But then I realized I'd been doing this long before I was imprisoned. Nothing works here. Yet I can go to 12 and make myself completely at home. Home is where you love. So yes. Yes, I will marry you, and go back to 12 with you."

He placed the ring on her finger just as the fireworks went off, signaling a new year. They didn't get to count down the New Year, but they'd been counting down to this moment for years. When his lips connected with hers she was ready for him.

Turns out Katniss and Peeta wouldn't be the only newlyweds.


	156. What's Up With You Two Anyway

_My own prompt, mixed with another's: Five times Haymitch was asked about his relationship with Effie (mine, hehe) and "Plutarch hitting on Effie and haymitch is there. Haymitch is either amused or really not impressed" (nkneeshaw)._

 _A follower of mine said she got a notification that this story was "complete" now—LIES! If you got that notificiation too it was a mistake on my end. I did update my summary about this story and maybe I clicked it by accident, IDK, but trust I've got plenty of stories/prompts left._

 **WHAT'S UP WITH YOU TWO ANYWAY?**

 **Rated K**

 ** _-COIN-_**

"What do you mean the plans have changed slightly?" asked Alma Coin. Before Plutarch could answer she saw Haymitch get off the hovercraft. Her stomach swooped at the sight of him.

"There's something you should know," Plutarch said.

"Spit it out, Heavensbee."

"Haymitch bought his Escort with him."

Coin blinked at Plutarch for several moments. "I beg your pardon?" Plutarch repeated himself. "I will _not_ allow that. She isn't a part of the mission."

"Don't tell me. Tell him."

"Oh, I will." Coin left Plutarch and marched up to Haymitch, her face set. "Soldier Abernathy," she called, and he scowled as he barely spared her a glance. He kept looking up at the sky, waiting for the second hovercraft. "Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you, Soldier."

He looked at her, scowling. "Coin."

"That's President Coin, or Madam President to you, Soldier." Her voice was cool and firm as she spoke. He ignored her existence. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Waiting for the second hovercraft, obviously."

"For what purpose?"

"My Escort is on it."

The way he admitted it so honestly made her realize that he wasn't the least bit ashamed.

"Why would you bring your Escort along?"

"Because she's apart of the team."

"Not my team."

"Katniss' team," he spat back at her. "I wanted her here, so I bought her here."

Something about the way he said it had her frowning. "Why? How is it she's so important? What's with you two anyway?"

"That is none of your damn business, Coin."

She turned to him. "You need to be Detoxed. Now."

"I'm not leaving here without my Escort," he snapped.

She snapped her fingers and two guards were there, materializing almost instantly. "Take him to Detox," said Coin coldly. He fought them tooth and nail, but they were trained at this. They could handle him. She turned to another one of her soldiers. "When Effie Trinket arrives, I want her taken to a cell. She is to be held prisoner."

"Yes Madam President."

Alma Coin walked away and headed inside. She could still hear Haymitch as he screamed, his voice echoing in the halls.

Teach him to cross her.

 ** _-FINNICK-_**

He watched as Haymitch slid his cup of tea towards Effie. She took it, shivering slightly, a small thank you on her lips. He ignored her thanks, but he certainly kept his eyes on her until her cheeks started to redden with warmth.

"Better?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said, holding the cup with both hands. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Princess." He looked at Finnick then. "You ready? Coin wants you in Command."

Finnick nodded and the two of them stood up, Finnick noting the way Haymitch brushed Effie's back as he walked away. Finnick stared at Haymitch as they left the cafeteria.

"So what's up with you two anyway?" he asked Haymitch.

"Don't really see why that's any of your concern, boy," responded Haymitch.

Finnick smiled. "My aren't we defensive?"

Haymitch glared at Finnick, who only continued to smile.

 ** _-JOHANNA-_**

"You sure you're okay, Johanna?" asked Effie softly.

"Of course I'm not, brainless. I was tortured. I'm alive, if that's what you mean." Johanna sighed and shifted in her hospital bed.

"That is what I meant." Johanna stayed silent. "I know we never got along, really, but… I'm glad you're alive."

Johanna snarled at Effie. "You're soft, you know that Trinket?" And then her demeanor softened, just a tiny bit, for the first time since she'd been brought back. "I'll be fine, okay?"

"At least Johanna okay," said Haymitch with a smirk. "That's as okay as Johanna can ever be." Johanna gave him the finger and he grinned. "Come on, Princess, it's late. You know how Coin gets all bossy about bedtime."

Effie gave Johanna one last look and then got up, passing Haymitch. He touched the small of her back, gently, and Johanna narrowed her eyes.

They were screwing.

Haymitch walked up to Johanna.

"How's she fairing in 13?" she asked.

"Effie?" Haymitch shrugged. "Who knows what's goin' on in her brain?"

"I think you know exactly what's goin' on," accused Johanna. Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "What's up with you two anyway?"

Haymitch just blinked at her for several moments. "Can I get you anything before I go?"

So he wasn't going to answer her. Typical Haymitch. "You could get me some more Morphling." He snorted. She scowled, even though she knew it was a long shot. "Goodbye, Haymitch."

"Night, Jo," said Haymitch, and he headed out.

"I'll get the truth outta you about your Escort eventually."

Her door closing was her only answer.

 ** _-PLUTARCH-_**

"Thank you, Ms. Trinket," smiled Plutarch.

"Oh, it's no problem at all," Effie smiled back.

"You're quite the jewel, you know that? You had some great suggestions."

"You're too kind, Mr. Heavensbee."

"Oh please, call me Plutarch. May I walk you to your room?"

"Her legs work fine well enough," Haymitch said quite coldly. Effie turned to him. She arched an eyebrow and he stared back at her. She smirked but left, heading to her room. Plutarch followed her with his eyes.

"I didn't mean anything by it."

"Of course you didn't," snarled Haymitch, the bleeding liar.

"Would it have been a problem if I did mean something by it?"

Haymitch grinned. "Try it and find out. She'd never look twice at you."

"Oh I don't know. I think I have a few things to offer Effie Trinket." Haymitch inhaled sharply. "Are you jealous?"

"Don't make me hurt you, Plutarch."

"So what's up with you two anyway?" asked Plutarch. Haymitch stilled. "One minute I asked you if she was part of the Rebellion, and you nearly bite my head off, and then the next thing I know, you're demanding that Effie comes to 13 with us."

"She was safer with me," was all he stated.

Plutarch looked at him, but Haymitch didn't continue, so he spoke. "She's beautiful."

"Don't," Haymitch warned.

"I'm just saying, I don't think anyone would blame you for…." He let the insinuation hang in the air. Haymitch just scowled, and finally Plutarch shrugged. "Guess it's none of my business."

"It isn't."

"But she just admitted she liked you better sober not ten minutes ago. I think you should probably take a hint and seal the deal." Plutarch started to walk off. "Before someone else, presumably me, does." Haymitch glared at Plutarch as he walked off.

 ** _-HAZELLELE HAWTHORNE-_**

"Haymitch, can I talk to you for a minute?" Haymitch glanced up and saw Hazellele standing there. He excused himself from Plutarch and walked over to her. She turned and walked to a secluded corner of the cafeteria.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I get that my son isn't a child, but I'd much appreciate it if _somebody_ asked how _I_ felt about you sending my boy back to 12 with Katniss." Haymitch blinked at her. "Particularly since it's _you_ that really should have gone with her."

"They're safe, Hazelle. I—"

"None of us are _safe_ , Haymitch. You sent my son back to 12 with a video camera crew and a couple of bows. I don't much appreciate you just casually throwing my son's name out there as a volunteer. You've been spending too much time with your Escort."

His back immediately went up. "Don't you _dare_ —"

"You're right. I was out of line. I apologize." He looked at her, and he saw her as a mother, concerned for her child. He imagined Katniss' mother felt the same way.

"Apology accepted," he said, because they were… cordial at the very least. She cleaned up after him for a few months, so she was something other than another woman from the Seam.

"What's up with you two anyway?"

Now he really stared at her. He had his suspicions about Hazelle Hawthorne. Any woman that could clean up his filthy house but still smile at him and/or seek out his company wasn't just being _nice_. He only knew of one other woman who tolerated him like that, and his Escort was _definitely_ sweet on him.

"I don't think it's really your place to ask that," Haymitch finally responded.

She stiffened. "So noted," said Hazelle coolly.

"I'll make sure Coin or someone runs anymore decisions by you regarding Gale." He gently brushed his fingers against her shoulder, kind of as a truce, and then walked off.

It wasn't lost on her that he'd never answered her question.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie snatched off her scarf, a small frown on her face. Then she unbuttoned her shirt—really it was Haymitch's shirt—and slipped on her—Haymitch's—sweater, shivering as she switched outfits.

She'd barely had finished changing before her door slid open, and who else would walk in but Haymitch Abernathy himself? She scowled, ignoring his existence.

"You gonna tell me what your problem is, Princess?"

He assumed she only even answered because it'd be rude not to. Still, to state out the word _"Nothing_ ," in her cool, Capitol accent was quite impolite.

"Don't seem like nothin'. It's not in your nature to hold back, so please, don't start now."

Effie bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from exploding. "It's late, Haymitch, and I _really_ don't want to argue. I'd just like to go to bed now."

"Isn't there some unwritten rule about not goin' to bed mad at the other one or somethin' like that?"

"That would imply we're _dating_ , and that you actually _care_ about my feelings, which you _don't_."

Haymitch frowned at her. "Would you just tell me what the hell is wrong?"

"I already said _nothing_."

"Yah, you already lied once," he snapped. "Why would you say I don't care about you?"

Effie rolled her eyes, walked passed him to turn off her lights, and then stumbled around in the dark until she reached her bed, where she climbed moodily in.

"Is that an invitation?"

"Good _night_ , Haymitch." He growled and started taking off his clothes. " _What_ are you doing?" He didn't answer her, but climbed in next to her when he was undressed. He climbed on top of her, her breath catching in her throat. "What are you doing?" This time the question came out breathless.

"Making you talk. _Talk_."

"I've nothing to say to you." He kissed her, and she responded against her will. She pulled herself away with great effort, and they went back and forth until she finally muttered out, "What's with you two anyway?"

He blinked at her. " _What_? Who?"

"You know who," hissed Effie. "The same woman you _sat_ with at lunch today."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "Who, _Hazelle_?" Effie pouted, and then frowned when Haymitch burst out laughing. " _Seriously_?" He laughed again, rolling off of her. "Do you know she asked me the exact same question about you a few weeks ago? _Everybody_ is asking me about us, yet you're asking about a woman I sat next to in order to explain to her that we were going to send her son on _another_ mission."

"I don't see what's so funny, Haymitch."

"You, being jealous, after _everything_ we've been through. And the fact that I've lost count of how many times people ask about _us_. You're insane." He laughed again. " _What's up with you two anyway_ ," he mocked. "It's like the question of the year."

"What do you tell them?" asked Effie quietly.

He didn't immediately answer. Instead he turned back on his side, pulling her close. "I don't tell them much. It's none of their business. Besides, I can't answer them when I don't bloody well know myself."

She snuggled into him and he relaxed. He'd never admit it but he _hated_ when she was upset, especially at him. To know it was all just a big misunderstanding… that she was simply jealous… that she _could_ be jealous, was a relief.

"When this is all over, we'll figure it out, yes?"

"Of course," he said, kissing her forehead.

They'd have to survive this bloody war first, but after taking on Snow and the Capitol, figuring out what the hell was up with them seemed like a cakewalk.


	157. Weekend Getaway

_LOOSEN YOUR CORSET IS BACK! I've wanted to post this for ages. Also, IDK if fan fic alerts you when a chapter has been updated, but instead of deleting the "glitch" chapter, I just updated it and posted a story there, so chapter 156 is actually a chapter now, and some of you might need to go back and read it. Anyway, enjoy this chapter. It's an Ash Universe!  
_

 **WEEKEND GETAWAY**

 **Rated M for detailed smut**

"This was a great idea," sighed Effie, her head resting on Haymitch's lap, her eyes closed. "Thank you for inviting us to the lake, Katniss."

"I thought it'd be a nice change of pace," Katniss said, her head resting on Peeta's shoulder. "Maybe if the kids wear themselves out we'll all get some sleep tonight."

"That would be _amazing_." She opened her eyes and was surprised to see Haymitch staring at her. She smiled at him, her eyes bluer than ever against the lake. She sat up and Haymitch shifted. She grabbed the pitcher of lemonade, pouring herself a glass, and took a sip to help cool herself from the heat. Summers in 12 were _hot_ , and she'd never get used to them she decided, even as a late August breeze blew her hair. "We should make a weekend out of it."

Haymitch snorted. "What, you want us and the kids to all crowd into Katniss' dad's cabin?"

"No," Effie said, clearing her throat. "I mean maybe we should take a vacation. We could go to 4, visit with Annie and Finn. We could take a weekend off."

She glanced at them. Peeta looked at her. "That'd be nice."

"We could invite Jo," agreed Katniss.

"Really? You guys want to? I could always bring the kids with me if you two wanted a break all together."

"I think you're the one who needs a break," Peeta pointed out, not unkindly.

"I do. I'm _exhausted_. But vacationing on the beach, even with the kids, would be relaxing enough."

Katniss looked at Peeta, who shrugged. "I don't mind. It sounds fun. It's been a while since we've seen Finn."

"Yah, Willow and Ava were only a few months," agreed Effie. "That was a little over a year and a half ago." She turned to Haymitch. "What do you think?"

He looked at her for a few moments. "I think I'll place a call to Paylor to see if we can get that no traveling policy lifted." They gathered up their belongings, the kids included, and headed back to Victor's Village. When they arrived Haymitch turned to her. "I'll call Paylor from the kid's house. I get the feeling she'll need to talk to them."

"Okay." She reached for Ava and he frowned, though she didn't notice. "Come on Ash." Ash let go of Haymitch's hand and grabbed Effie's. "We'll see you all at dinner."

And then she was off, sauntering up to their house. He watched them until they disappeared and then he made his way into Katniss and Peeta's house.

 **XxXxXx**

By the time Haymitch came back Ash and Ava were asleep and Effie had just gotten out the shower. She had a towel wrapped around her head, her robe covering her body.

"I tried to wait for you," she said with a smile. "You took longer than I thought." She leaned in for a kiss and he kissed her back, but not with his usual excitement. She blinked at him, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Do you not trust me with them?"

"Trust you with who?"

"Our kids," said Haymitch.

She gaped. "Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that?"

"Because you _are_ tired. You're exhausted. But you've never said anything to me. I could have been sent you to 4 to visit Annie. I could have bought Finn out here and let you go visit. All you had to do was say something."

"Haymitch," sighed Effie. "I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel otherwise, but you've got it all wrong. You're a wonderful father. You know that. You know how watching you with them turns me on," she reminded him.

"It's different. I'm talking about leaving me with them."

"Darling, you're _Haymitch Abernathy_. There is _nobody_ I don't trust you with. They're safest with you. I know nothing will ever happen to them with you. I just never said anything about being so tired because…" Effie took a deep breath. "I was the one who wanted another child. I didn't think it'd be so exhausting. And it's not fair for me to complain. This is what I wanted."

He looked at her, staring into her eyes. "So if I bought you a ticket to 4 without me and the kids, you'd go?"

"If you bought me a ticket to 4 without you and the kids, I'd jump your bones right here and now."

Haymitch reached into his back pocket. "You and Katniss leave a day earlier than me and Peeta." He held up a train ticket. "We'll meet you two out there on Friday."

Effie snatched the ticket, looking at in awe. "Oh my God. Oh my _God_. You wonderful, wonderful man."

"Well that's an upgrade from insufferable drunk," he chuckled. His laugh quickly turned into a curse when she bit his neck. " _That's_ gonna leave a mark."

" _Good_. It serves you right for thinking I didn't trust you with our own children. That's quite _rude_ you know, to make such an assumption."

His argument was lost as she started unzipping his pants.

 **XxXxXx**

"I don't think I can do this," whispered Effie, tears in her eyes as she hugged Ash, who clearly didn't want to let her go.

"Ash, let your mother go. You'll see her tomorrow, okay?"

"But I don't want her to leave," he told his father.

"It's not goodbye, okay? It's see ya later. We'll see her tomorrow." Haymitch pried Ash's arms from around Effie and his son's lower lip started to tremble. "Ash, we talked about this. You promised you'd be strong for your mother."

"Ash, why don't we go home and bake cookies to give to Mommy tomorrow?" asked Peeta, bending down.

"I wanna give them to her _today_ ," said the little boy, his eyes thick with tears.

"Tomorrow is already almost here," Peeta said. "Then we'll all join Mommy and Katniss, okay?"

Ash sniffed but nodded, wiping his eyes. Katniss and Peeta kissed one last time before Peeta grabbed Ash's hand and the two of them started walking away.

"That's it. I'm staying. I can't tell him goodbye." Effie put down her suitcase, wiping her own eyes.

"Princess he'll be fine. You need this."

"I don't want to leave _you_ either," hissed Effie, stepping up to him. Haymitch shot Katniss a look and the raven-haired girl stood next to Effie, laying a gentle arm on her shoulder.

"We've been apart longer than this," he told her.

"But not in _years_."

"It's _one night_ , Princess. I'll see you tomorrow."

Effie bit her lip and then nodded. She gently kissed Ava's cheek, who was sleeping, and then kissed Haymitch.

"I love you," she whispered to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow," promised Haymitch.

Effie nodded and grabbed her suitcase, and walked onto the train. Katniss waited until she knew Effie was out of earshot before whispering, "You're gonna be miserable without her."

"Course I am," Haymitch said. "But you two could use a day for yourselves. We'll be there tomorrow, near noon." Katniss nodded, waved goodbye, and got on the train.

 **XxXxXx**

"This is nice," sighed Effie, rocking in her rocking chair on the front porch as they watched the sunset. Johanna was sitting next to her; Annie was next to her, Katniss next to Annie, and Mrs. Everdeen next to Katniss. Finn was staying with a close friend of Annie's while the five women caught up.

Effie found herself quite relaxed. Once she'd gotten to 4 and called Haymitch, and talked to Ash, she had settled in. Annie had been a great host. She'd taken them around 4, showing her and Katniss some of the tourist spots. They'd gone to the beach for a few hours. Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen had disappeared for a while, but had shown up in time for dinner, which Annie had had catered. She had spared no expense, and had spoiled them with all of District 4's specialties.

"It certainly _is_ nice to have a break," Katniss said. "I love Willow but she's a handful."

Effie perked up at that. "I could take her off your hands for a while if you need me to."

"No. You're busy with Ash and Ava. You look more tired than I do."

"I don't regret Ava in the least, but she wears me out," admitted Effie.

"It's been nice without them, but I miss them," Katniss said after a few moments of silence.

Effie grinned at Katniss. The two of them finally seemed to be on the same page about something.

"You two have gone fucking soft," spat Johanna. She sighed and stood up, shaking her head as she walked back into the house.

Effie didn't comment, but Johanna was right. She hated being without Haymitch and the kids. She thought a day away would be fun, and it was, for the most part, but she was lonely without them.

Not to mention she missed the things Haymitch _did_ to her. They rarely made it a day without each other. She'd had him this morning, thank God, but it was going to be a long, lonely night without him.

She couldn't wait to be reunited with him tomorrow.

"Here," Johanna said, thrusting a bottle of red wine in her face. Effie blinked and grabbed it. "Drink up. Maybe you'll stop feeling so fucking sentimental. You get a bottle too, Lover Girl."

"I am _not_ drinking this entire bottle," said Effie, frowning.

"You're married to Haymitch. Make him proud tonight."

 **XxXxXx**

The next morning Katniss, Annie, Johanna, and Finn were all on the porch when a government issued car pulled up.

"Well they're early," muttered Johanna.

"Thank _God_ ," Katniss said, and she was flying down the stairs before the car doors even opened. Katniss was in Peeta's arms within seconds, and then she had Willow in her arms. "You guys are early."

"Haymitch was miserable without Effie," muttered Peeta.

"I knew he would be."

At that moment Haymitch appeared, Ava in his arms, Ash holding his hand. "Where's _my_ wife?" he grumbled.

"Probably still asleep," snorted Johanna. "We got her wasted last night, and even though she's married to you, you haven't taught her _anything_. I think she's even _more_ of a lightweight than before."

Haymitch rolled his eyes and handed the kids off to the group and made his way upstairs to check on his wife.

 **XxXxXx**

She was lost in her hangover and didn't hear the shower door open. "I don't think it's fair that you get to drink but I don't," Haymitch said, snaking his arms around her slender body. Effie's gasp was swallowed when his lips found hers, and she let out a low moan.

"Careful, my husband should be showing up any minute," whispered Effie.

Haymitch snorted. "I'll make quick work of it then." His lips traveled down her throat, his hands gripping her slick body. His fingers found their way to her center and she arched her back.

"Am I dreaming?" Effie asked softly, turning around to face him and pressing her body to his. "I've wanted you since I left."

"What would you do if it were a dream?" His lips found her breasts and her knees buckled.

"Stupid wine," she managed to gasp out.

"Oh, well, if the wine has you swooning I can just leave."

The alcohol must have been affecting her ability to realize when he was joking, because the way she pinned him against the shower wall proved she wasn't about to let him go anywhere, just in case he was serious.

 **XxXxXx**

"They really have quite the bromance," commented Annie.

"Agreed," Effie smiled as she watched Finn and Ash swim.

"He's a good swimmer," noted Johanna.

"We got him lessons," Effie said.

At that moment Haymitch approached them, plopping down on the sand, Ava in his lap. Peeta sat down beside them, Willow in his.

"The boy still swimming like a fish?" asked Haymitch.

"Better. He swims like he's from 4," Annie said.

"Katniss is a good teacher," said Peeta.

"You wanna get in the water?" Haymitch asked Effie.

"Yes, I think I do," responded Effie. "What about you and Willow, Peeta?"

"Yah, sure."

They made their way to the beach, Haymitch's arms resting around Effie's waist. Halfway to the shore Ash and Finn ran up to them.

"Are you guys bringing the babies in the water?" asked Ash.

"Yes," Haymitch told his son.

Ash frowned, looking from his father to Peeta. Then he pointed his finger, a scowl on his face that made him look even more like Haymitch. "Be careful with Willow," he said to Peeta, and then he was next to his father, and didn't leave their side until Effie had declared that Ava had had enough water. Only when Effie, Haymitch, and Ava left back towards Annie did Ash check on Willow.

Effie laughed for about thirty minutes.

 **XxXxXx**

"You care to explain to me why we're sneaking around like a couple of teenagers?" growled Haymitch. He was _exhausted_. His mission to give Effie a few days off had gone wonderfully, but it hadn't done much for him. Volunteering to take the kids off her hands for the past couple of days made him ridiculously tired. It was their last night in 4 and he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

"Because I'm as horny as a teenager, and I want to give you the opportunity to make me scream, and we can't do that inside."

That had his mouth clamping shut, and had his aching for her all over again. Aside from that one time in the shower when he'd arrived, they hadn't had much time to do anything. Effie was afraid the entire house would hear them, which was probably true, but her being courteous did _nothing_ for his desires. Not to mention he was busy with the kids while she was out tanning and getting her hair done and _drinking_.

Lucky little minx.

"So where are we going then?" asked Haymitch.

"I thought you'd change your tone," Effie said, her voice amused. She gathered the remaining things and motioned for him to follow her. She signaled for him to keep quiet and they made their way out of the house. Outside she grabbed his hand, giggling like a schoolgirl.

She led him towards the beach and his heart started to hammer.

When she took off her robe, letting it drop down in the sand, and started taking off her nightdress, his mouth went dry.

"Princess, what are you doing?"

She smiled at him. "Darling," she purred. "Haven't you ever heard of skinny dipping?" He had, but he'd never done it. Seeing her naked, though, quickly made him understand the gist of things.

He scrambled out of his clothes so fast he nearly broke his leg in his haste.

In the water he pulled her to him, touching her all over. He _wanted_ her.

"I've missed you," he told her, his lips finding hers.

"Not as much as I've missed you."

" _You're_ the one who didn't wanna—"

"Oh, I wanted to," disagreed Effie. "I'm just always so loud, as you tell me."

"You _are_ loud," he told her, his lips biting her shoulder. He gripped her hips, forcing her legs around his waist so that he could enter her. She laughed and unhooked her legs. "Stop _playing_."

"Darling are you begging?"

"No."

"Well it is early yet."

"Effie." He'd meant it to sound harsh but it came out much like a plea. Very nearly a whine.

"Stop pouting. I got you off the other night, didn't I?" At that moment she gripped him, making his heart stop.

He growled and gripped her breasts, forcing her breath to hitch. "I told you I'd finish you off. You wouldn't let me."

"You _know_ how loud I get when you do that. I wasn't about to wake up the entire house. We'd scar the kids for life."

"I'd like to _brand_ you for life, if you ever let me fuck you." Her stroking him was _not_ helping.

"I don't want you to hold back," Effie demanded.

"When have I _ever_?"

"You always do, because we have children now, and we want them to sleep through the night. I want you to remember the old days. Before the kids, when we used to slip sleep syrup in our Tributes drinks that first night so they wouldn't hear us."

"Effie," he warned.

"Think back to before Cinna and Portia were sharing the Penthouse with us."

She wrapped her legs around him and he slid into her with sweet satisfaction, relieved that he was about to get relief, because he'd never wanted her this badly in his life.

"Do you remember the things you used to do to me?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

He sped up, gripping her tightly. The water splashed around them as he entered in and out of her. He stuttered out her name, palming her ass so that he could better control his strokes.

"Harder, Haymitch." Her voice was high pitched, her body flushed. "Make me scream, okay? I want them to be able to hear me in the Capitol."

" _Fuck_ ," he spat, and he wondered how he had the ability to stand with the way his legs were turning to jelly.

"Do you remember how we used to be on that first night? After we'd been apart for a year?" How was she still able to _think_ , let alone speak? He himself was having issues saying anything that didn't involve the four-letter word to describe what it was he was doing to her. "Do you remember sometimes we couldn't even make it to the Reaping before you pinned me up against something? Do you remember ripped dresses, and high heels, and my legs in the air?"

He _did_ remember, because he'd hated her then, but she had been so damn irresistible, but _different_ too, and she'd made him hate himself until she'd revealed her true to self to him, and suddenly they were _making love_ instead of fucking.

He lost it, his body taking over, and he quickened his pace. She moaned out a few words, and he heard it: that charming gasp that made him fall in love with her every single time.

And then she was screaming, and he said every curse word under the sun as he released, and surely he'd just gotten her pregnant _again_.

And then they drowned, because he was too spent to move. So they'd obviously sink down to the bottom and die a horrible death, but that was okay. Katniss and Peeta would take care of Ash and Ava.

"I love you," she said, and he realized that he was still alive.

"I don't think so. You just tried to kill me." Somehow they crawled closer to the shore.

Effie was too spent to look at him, but she stared at the stars, a satisfied smile on her face. "Why would I do that when you do the most _amazing_ things to my body?"

"Because I wouldn't let you get rid of the geese and redo the backyard, so you're trying to kill me so you can get my Winnings." He didn't tell her that he and Peeta had spent the majority of the day on Thursday redoing the backyard, and that she'd come home to no geese and a garden. He had to do _something_ to distract him of her not being there, and the geese had always been something to hold him off until his liquor arrived. He didn't need them. He had family.

Effie laughed aloud. "You are truly insane." He snorted and she finally found the strength to roll over to look at him. "Thank you for this weekend. I needed it. _We_ needed it." He caressed her cheek. "You know… sometimes families in the Capitol take vacations every year." He looked at her. She was always so careful about bringing up the Capitol with him. "It's not a bad tradition at all. Maybe we could start doing that."

He wanted to kiss her, but was afraid that'd set them off again, and he didn't think he could handle another round tonight.

"Or… if we ever get comfortable enough, we could always go on our own vacations. Just you and me."

"We'd kill each other," he said immediately.

"Yah, we probably would. I definitely almost drowned."

He tugged at her hair, still fascinated by it after all these years. "I think I'd like that. Annual weekend getaways. It's nice to have the group, but I think just us can work sometimes too."

"And they don't have to be annual. We could go every few months."

He nodded. "The Capitol and 11 are out, though. If we're gonna do this, I wanna be able to have fun."

"Okay," Effie said.

"What do we do on these family trips?"

Effie smiled. "We hire a nanny so you and I can have a lot of sex."

He felt himself grow hard again. Thank heaven for weekend getaways.

 _A guest asked for a swimming smut, so I added his/her prompt to this even though this was written long before._


	158. Uknown Titles

_IT'S MY BDAY, SO I'M POSTING ANOTHER PROMPT! :)_

" _Your stories give me life lol!. Iv'e always felt that Effie had to go through a lot of struggles of being "perfect" in the eyes everyone and even her own parents. Maybe you could write one where she is subjected to verbal abuse by district 13 rebels because they think that she is just a prissy pink princess who always got what she want as a child until Haymitch comes in and puts them in line with the reality." –Guest. LOVED THIS PROMPT_

 **UNKNOWN TITLES**

 **Rated T for language**

"You look tired, Princess," Haymitch said to Effie.

"I am," sighed Effie. She glanced around and then looked at him, scooting forward so that only he could hear her. "I missed you last night."

Haymitch looked at her for a minute and then frowned. "I didn't not come to your room last night. I was being debriefed on everything while I was in Detox. I haven't been sleep yet."

"No, I know," blushed Effie. "I'm not saying I _expected_ you to come to my room last night. I'm just… in a new place and… I sleep better with you."

Haymitch stared at her skeptically. "We slept together _one_ night."

Effie arched an eyebrow and grinned at the slight wince on Haymitch's face at what he said. "Oh, Dear, you certainly wish," smiled Effie.

He scowled to hide the fact that he certainly _did_ wish. He wasn't ready to admit that yet.

"In your dreams, Trinket." He stood up, grabbing his tray. "I'll see you later."

Effie watched him, a small smile on her face as she watched him walk away. Her smile disappeared when she saw Mrs. Hawthorne approach him. If there was anybody here that wanted Haymitch, it was her, and Effie knew it.

She tried not to grit her teeth as she flirted with Haymitch. _He_ of course, was oblivious. He'd have to find her parading around naked for him to get it, and at that point, Effie would _not_ be very happy.

Finally having enough she stood up and walked towards the trashcan to discard her plate, passing the serving window as she did.

"Hey!" Effie stopped and looked at the woman in the window, waiting for plates to be handed to her so she could wash them. She was older, her eyes shrewd, her countenance dark. Effie looked around, wondering if the woman was talking to her or not. "You! The prissy pink princess who probably always got what she wanted as a child." Effie felt her face warm as the cafeteria quieted. "Around here, we don't waste food. Eat your cookie."

"Oh, but—"

"But nothing. People are starving in other parts of the world, but your privileged ass wouldn't know that, would you?"

"Of course I do, I just—"

"I don't care if you're full. You finish what's on your plate."

"But—"

"No _buts_ ," snapped the woman.

"She's fucking allergic to peanuts you stupid bitch." Haymitch's voice boomed across the mess hall, which quieted down even more at the sound of Haymitch's voice. "If you'd stopped interrupting her and fucking _listened_ , you'd have learned that. She can't eat the fucking cookie. _And_ she fucking tried to give a little girl her cookie, but her mother told her no." Effie stared at Haymitch. "Do you know why she's here?" The lady didn't answer and Haymitch turned to face the crowd. "In fact, do any of you know why she's here?" The room was silent. "I fucking invited her. Which means she's on our side. So if you got a problem with her, you got a fucking problem with me. So if anyone has a problem with me, speak the fuck up now."

The room stayed silent.

"That's what I fucking thought. She stands with the Mockingjay. She's here, and she's staying. Get the fuck over it." He turned back to the lady in the window. "And don't ever call her Princess." Haymitch snatched Effie's tray, dumped her plate, and tossed it to the lady in the window. He placed his hand on the small of Effie's back and they walked out of the cafeteria.

"Haymitch—" Effie started once they got outside the doors, but before she could say anything else he rounded on her.

"I fucking get that they're not nice to you, and that they probably make you feel bad, but you have _got_ to start standing up for yourself." Effie blinked at him. "I can't keep stopping what I'm doing to protect you."

Effie felt her back go up. "Well excuse me for taking up time with your girlfriend," she said coldly, and she mentally chided herself.

"Hazelle's not my girlfriend," said Haymitch. "Don't be jealous, Princess, it's not becoming of you."

Effie huffed. "I didn't ask you to defend me, Haymitch." She decided she was going to ignore the Hazelle Hawthorne thing.

"Well then next time I won't."

"Good. It seems to be a problem for you anyway."

"It's natural. No one gets to fuck with my Escort."

"Don't _call_ me that!" Effie hissed. "I'm not your bloody Escort."

He paused and blinked at her. "No. No I suppose you're not. So what should I call you then?"

" _Friend_ would do just nicely. Though friends tend to defend each other, and you've made it quite clear you don't want to defend me."

Effie slid away from him and started walking to her room.

"I didn't say that," Haymitch said with a sigh, following her. "I didn't mean it like that."

Effie ignored him. He tried to prove his point the entire way to her room, but she didn't want to hear it. When she made it to her room she tried to close the door on him but he easily bypassed that.

"Why don't I just refer to you as my prissy pink princess?" grinned Haymitch.

"All of 13 would lose their respect for you," Effie blushed. "It's fine, Haymitch. We don't need to be friends."

"We're _not_ friends," said Haymitch locking the door behind him. When he turned to her he noticed the betrayal in her eyes. "For fuck's sake," he snapped, pulling her to him. His lips met hers and she immediately responded. He meant to only prove a point, but suddenly he was responding just as enthusiastically as she was. With his heart pounding he smirked and pushed her away. "Not friends," panted Haymitch. "We're more than friends, but not quiet anything else."

"Yet," Effie stated boldly, and there those blurred lines were.

He backed away from her, looking at her. If she wasn't going to address the jealousy issue, he didn't have to address this statement. "Don't let what happened today upset you. You have the right to be here. Defend yourself." Effie looked at him and nodded, once. "I have to get to Command. I'm already late. I'll see you at dinner."

"Bye," said Effie softly once he reached the door. He opened her door and stopped to stare at her. He looked over his shoulder, checking her out: silver scarf, grey tunic, and dark grey leggings. The desire to walk up to her and kiss her again nearly overwhelmed him, but he resisted.

"Bye, Princess," he finally said.

She smiled as Haymitch left.

He wanted her.

More than friends indeed.


	159. Of Crazy Women and Sane Thoughts

_I doubt very much that this scenario would really happen, but I thought it was nice anyway. Thanks for the birthday love btw!_

 **OF CRAZY WOMEN AND SANE THOUGHTS**

 **Rated T**

Annie took a gentle sip of the warm drink Haymitch had placed beside her. She gently stared at the man sitting before her. He was even more broken than before, and even in her hurt she could feel his radiating off of him.

He'd always been handsome to her, as far as handsome goes: His curly hair that rode down in waves, his bright grey eyes, currently haunted, his firm mouth, in its signature frown. She was partial to him with a five o'clock shadow as opposed to the full-fledged beard, but she supposed there wasn't a lot of time for shaving at this point.

She'd watched him for the past few weeks while in 13. She'd never met him before that, though she knew that he and Finnick were friends. Though she was young she still remembered his Games. She'd seen them replay over the years. She'd been quite fascinated with him even then—who hadn't? He was _Haymitch Abernathy_ , Victor of a _Quarter Quell_. Cocky. Handsome. Dark. Mysterious.

He wasn't her type—nobody was her type, other than Finnick—but she definitely saw his appeal.

The women in 13 had immediately flocked to him, despite the drinking, and his temper. He was respected here, and his brilliance outshined any of his other discrepancies. Even as the alcohol left his body, and after most of the symptoms passed, his wit made him even more attractive.

She liked him. Not in _that_ way. He was older, but he was a friend. He cared about people, even when he didn't admit it to them or himself. In some ways she both pitied and envied him for that. He loved, that was for sure. Probably just as hard as Katniss, and she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

Haymitch's inability to be honest with himself was what she envied. The way he could discard his feelings for the greater good. Or the way he could lie to himself as if he didn't care about anyone, including himself. Lies, all of it. He did care. That was obvious because the man who sat before her had aged a million more years at each death.

But she also pitied him. Because living his life of lies, living in his web of deceit, he hurt people. He hurt himself. He would end up miserable and alone, and he thought it was better that way, because a part of him felt like he deserved that. He'd seen enough death, had caused enough destruction. He thought by isolating himself he kept those he refused to admit he cared about safe.

He wanted that more than love: safety. Security. She could understand that. She just couldn't think like that. Without Finnick these past few years would have been unbearable. She couldn't imagine living like Haymitch. Annie knew Finnick would have tried. He hadn't meant to fall in love with her. She had snuck up on him, and she'd forever be grateful that he'd followed his heart.

Unlike Haymitch.

Haymitch, who'd never scoffed or called anybody a fool for loving, even as he couldn't. It was proof that he believed in love, probably even saw the beauty of it, but wouldn't bother with it.

Yet he was still hurt. He was still just as hurt as she was, so she wondered if it'd been worth it to him, to shut her out all these years, only for it to still end in disaster. Would he feel better, or worse right now, if he'd allowed himself to love Effie?

Annie, at least, had the happy memories. She and Finnick had taken special care to create things that would make them smile. It would hurt, but oh, she could be happy, too. He had seen to that. He had _always_ seen to that.

"I'm sorry about Finnick," Haymitch finally said, and Annie released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She knew he was sorry, even if it wasn't his fault. She hadn't known him long, but she knew him well enough to know that he took every death personal, almost as if he had created the Mutt that had killed Finnick, or built the bomb that had blown up Prim.

She finally lowered her eyes, her hand resting on her stomach. She'd probably just given herself away, but she had decided she wouldn't tell anyone just yet. They'd find out soon enough, that Finnick had returned to them. To _her_.

She looked back up at him, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry about Effie," responded Annie, and Haymitch jerked. "She's not upset with you, you know. I think people tend to take out their frustrations on the people they care about the most." She took another sip of her drink, her eyes staring pointedly at him, to show that she was talking about _him_ as well.

"What do you know about it?" Haymitch snarled, and his rough demeanor didn't scare her.

"I know you nearly went mad when Plutarch said she was missing. I know you spent countless nights trying to figure out where she was. I know you fought for her to be kept alive after you found her in that cell, and that you'd have given everything to keep her away from Coin. I also know you testified at her trial, to prove she was a Rebel, to keep her alive."

Haymitch shook his head, avoiding her eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," Annie said softly. "You know she cares about you. Finnick told me so. He always came home with the latest gossip." She smiled suddenly at the memory. "Effie's been a good friend to all of you, but she's always cared more than she should have about you. I think you can relate to that."

"It doesn't matter. She's stayin' in the Capitol." She'd made that abundantly clear to him last night, after she'd given him hope and had jumped his bones in the foyer. It'd been the best sex they'd ever had, a mixture of relief that the other was still alive, as well as a mixture of desperation because they'd both nearly lost their lives.

And then she'd said she couldn't come back to 12 with him, and the rest of the conversation was hazy after that. He distinctly recalled her asking him to leave, though, and slamming the door in his face.

"You love her," stated Annie simply. "And she loves you. Love has a way of coming back to us." She caressed her stomach again. "Just wait for it. She's been waiting for about ten years. Most of her life, if you count that crush she had on you after you'd won. Give her time. It's the least you could do for being too stubborn and afraid to admit how you felt years ago."

Annie stood up, finishing off her drink, and grabbed her bag. She knew Johanna was waiting outside. They were heading back to 4 now. 4, despite all of its memories with Finnick, and she'd certainly see him _everywhere_ , would always be home.

"Don't drink yourself to death. Effie will come for you. The Capitol isn't home anymore. Not for her. It hasn't been her home since the 60th Hunger Games. You know that." She placed her bag strap on her shoulder, and gave Haymitch one final glance. "Home is where the heart is, Haymitch, and she'll find herself at your doorstep one day. Wait for her. Do something that'll help distract you as you wait for your train." She opened the door. "You'll always have place to visit in 4. It's a pretty nice place to honeymoon, too." She shrugged lightly. "So I've been told."

Haymitch stared as Annie disappeared, his mouth turned down in a frown.

He knew Annie was crazy. They'd _all_ lost their minds as the Games. Katniss barely talked. Peeta was a Mutt. He was a drunk. Johanna was heartless. And Annie had literally lost her mind.

But as he stood there, in the middle of the room, very much alone, he realized that she wasn't as crazy as he thought.

In fact, he could argue she was very nearly sane.

Particularly when, a year later, Effie showed up on his doorstep, bags in tow.

Annie might have lost it because of the Games. But she was sane enough to know a thing or two about life.

"I've been waiting for you, Princess," said Haymitch.

He wondered if what Annie said about 4 being a nice place to honeymoon was true.

Guess he would have to find out one day, he thought as he stepped aside to let Effie in.


	160. Never Too Late

" _Haymitch is going after Effie for some time but she don't want him. When she admits she likes him too he has a new Girl on his side." –_ _Ferkelnase_

 **NEVER TOO LATE**

 **Rated K**

"Effie?" The redheaded woman stilled and slowly turned to the voice. "It _is_ you!" Effie gave a soft smile to the girl.

"Hello, Katniss," said Effie.

Katniss smiled and hugged Effie. "We've missed you."

Effie felt the lump in her throat at those words. She'd missed them too. Five years was a long time to not be in touch. The two women embraced for a several moments before Effie gently pushed her back to get a good look at her former Tribute.

She looked better than when she last saw her. Her hair was even again, her scars either covered or faded. Her eyes weren't as haunted, though they still held a sadness that would probably never go away. Her smile was genuine, though.

"You're a beautiful bride, Katniss. I'm happy for you and Peeta."

She beamed. "Thank you, Effie. Come on let's go find Peeta. He'll be thrilled to see you. And Haymitch is probably around here somewhere."

"Oh no, Katniss, that's okay." Katniss arched an eyebrow. "I mean I'd love to see Peeta. But Haymitch…." How could she say she already found him, hugged up with some other woman?

Not that she could say anything. He'd made it clear how he felt after the war, and she'd practically slammed the door in his face.

Katniss stared at her for a moment, her head sideways. "Let's go find Peeta," she mumbled, and then they were walking through the crowd. Effie could feel the stares as she passed people, but after a while, they found Peeta, who openly gaped at her. Then she was in his arms.

"I can't believe you're here! You look beautiful."

"Thank you," blushed Effie. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to say hi. I should get back to the Capitol."

She didn't call it home, they both noticed.

"You really aren't going to say hi to Haymitch?" Katniss asked.

"You haven't seen Haymitch yet?" asked Peeta. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere. I know he's not by the bar…."

He wasn't. Effie watched as Peeta scanned the crowd, and knew the minute she spotted him. So he was still in the middle of the dance floor then, his arms wrapped tightly around that bare-backed, olive-skinned woman.

Peeta's blue eyes rested back on Effie's. "I found him. Come on."

"Peeta, no," Effie hissed, but Peeta didn't listen. He grabbed her arm and started leading her to Haymitch. "Peeta, please don't."

"Do you love him or not?" rounded Peeta. Effie froze. "Don't look so surprised. You think I don't know love when I see it? I've been in love with the same girl since I heard her sing for our school."

"I'm too late, Peeta. It's obvious he's quite taken with her."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "She's sweet on him, okay? But that doesn't mean anything when it comes to you. You have to let him know you're here."

"I should leave."

"He's been miserable, Effie. You have no idea, really."

Effie felt the tears. "I do know. And I turned him down. I'd been pining after him since I was thirteen years old, and I just shut the door in his face when he asked me to come to 12."

"Do you know why?"

"Of course. I was angry—"

"Don't tell me. Talk to _him._ He misses you, just as much as you miss him."

Effie chanced a glance at the man laughing on the dance floor. "Doesn't look like it."

Peeta sighed. "Don't hate me for this, Effie," he whispered. And then—"Hey, Haymitch!"

Effie gasped and froze at Peeta's words. She'd kill him. Oh, she'd certainly kill him. She hoped Katniss enjoyed her time with the baker, because he was dead.

She was plotting out exactly how she was going to kill him when she felt him. She _always_ felt him. She always knew when he was near. Some things never changed, she supposed. She looked up at Peeta, who gave her a soft smile and then disappeared, and then slowly turned around.

"Hello, Princess," he said softly.

If he was surprised she was there, he didn't let on.

"Hello, Haymitch."

"I didn't know you were coming," he told her, a small smile on his face. His _handsome_ face. He looked… _good_.

"I'd never miss Katniss and Peeta's wedding."

"Where's your stuff?"

"I… I didn't bring anything." And it was a good thing too, because she'd thought about bringing it all, and how stupid would that have been?

Haymitch frowned. "You aren't staying?"

Something about the way he asked it made her mouth go dry. "Well I wanted to," explained Effie, "but…. I mean no one knew I was coming, and it's just rude, to come by unannounced like this."

Haymitch snorted. "I don't care about _rude_. Do you wanna stay or not?"

"Of course I _want_ to stay."

"Then that's all that matters. We can order your things tomorrow."

At that moment Effie caught a glimpse of the woman Haymitch had been dancing with. She was staring at Effie with a small frown on her face.

"I don't think I'd be welcomed here."

"I don't give a flying f—"

"Language, Haymitch."

He bit his tongue, a scowl on his face. "You're gonna drive me mental, aren't you?" Effie didn't answer. "You _are_." He shook his head. "I don't _care_ who has a problem with you being here. _I_ want you here."

"But what about your… friend?" Effie's eyes darted back to the dance floor, and Haymitch followed her gaze.

"Oh, Hazelle? She's nobody."

Effie looked at Haymitch. "She doesn't look at you like _you're_ nobody, and you weren't dancing with her or smiling at her as if she were a nobody."

"She's nobody compared to you, then, okay?"

Effie clamped her mouth shut at that, and tried desperately to keep the tears at bay. "So I'm not too late?"

"Too late?" Haymitch barked out a laugh. "You've never been late a day in your life, Princess." Effie choked out a cross between a laugh and a sob, and he pulled her to him. "You're right on, time, Effie. It's never too late for you."


	161. Crawling Into Cribs

_Inspired by this video that went viral. It's SO adorable! #q=daddy+crawls+in+crib+with+baby_

 **CRAWLING INTO CRIBS**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch had just closed his eyes when he heard the wailing again. Effie whimpered beside him, literally whimpered, and suddenly he realized he didn't have much room to complain. He spent the majority of the day with Katniss, Peeta, Willow, and Ash while Effie stayed in the house with Ava all day. Haymitch had been helping Peeta with the bakery since his assistant was on his honeymoon, and once Ash got home from school he needed to be in a quiet environment to concentrate.

Their home wasn't quiet.

So Haymitch spent his time with Ash at Katniss and Peeta's until Ash was done with homework. Then he came home and listened to Ava wail all night.

Ava rarely slept through the night. She rarely slept at all. What she did was cry.

A lot.

All the time.

And Effie was always there.

She was exhausted, his poor wife, and she was walking around like a zombie. She was prone to bursting into tears as time went on, and what was so mind boggling to him was the fact that she never lost her patience or snapped on him or yelled at their child.

He figured he should step in, before she did finally snap.

Effie sighed and started to get out of bed. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "I'll get her."

"Oh, Haymitch, it's okay. I'll do it. I'm sure you're tired from working all day at the bakery and with Ash."

"Lay down, Princess. You've been taking care of Ava for a week. Now let me take care of her."

She blinked at him. "Thank you," she whispered, and he could hear the tears in her voice. He reached over and kissed her gently on the forehead. She clung on to him, her anchor, and then let him go. He got up and walked down to his daughter's room.

"Okay, Ava. What's wrong with Daddy's Angel?" Ava perked up as soon as she sensed her father's presence. Haymitch stared down at his fussy daughter. Her blonde curls were everywhere, her bright blue-grey eyes filled with tears. He felt his stomach lurch. Seeing her cry was worse than hearing her cry.

Effie would kill him, because she was set on Ava not being spoiled, but she was currently in bed, probably dozing off, so she wasn't exactly here, was she? So he bent down and picked her up, and her soft whimpers turned to a gentle sigh, and then she was snoring softly just like her mother.

She'd just wanted her father's touch, apparently, which was just fine with him. He adored his Ava, his Angel, his whole heart. It took every ounce of strength not to spoil her rotten and give her the world. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and not just because she was a spitting image of her mother, save for her eyes.

Though he shared the color with Effie, they were his shape.

Sometimes how much he loved her scared the hell out of him.

Looking at her made him want to run to his bedroom and tell Effie how incredible she was, to have blessed him with not one, but two amazing little beings that he'd gladly give his life for. But more than that he wanted to thank her for helping him create a world where their children could be _safe_.

He'd never stop owing Effie.

He wished he could _show_ his wife how much she meant to him, but she couldn't. Not yet. Oh, but when the time came….

Haymitch gathered Ava to place her back down in the crib, but she immediately started whining again.

"Oh, no Angel. Don't you dare. You gotta go to bed, so that I can go to bed. I'm not gonna stay up all night holding you."

After thirty minutes and three more attempts at trying to place her back in her crib only for her to start crying again, Haymitch realized that she was wrapped around his finger. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this one. Effie had made it clear that there would be no co-sleeping with Ava. Ash got a pass because they hadn't raised him for the first five years, and the boy _still_ snuck in their room more often than not. They would not make that mistake with Ava.

Haymitch could just imagine the look Effie would give him if he showed up with Ava in his arms.

He thought Effie's nagging was worse than Ava's screams, so he put her down again.

Boy could she wail.

Finally, in the end, he crawled into the crib he'd built with his bare hands, and placed Ava down on his chest. She relaxed, instantly, sighing the same way her mother did. It made him smile, how alike the two of them were.

He wrapped his arms around her and willed her to calm down. If he could just get her to fall asleep, he could surely sneak out of bed and make his way back to his own room so he could wrap his arms around his wife.

But Ava, so like Effie in so many ways, and he was learning them _all_ tonight, knew whenever he moved or shifted or sighed too loud. He couldn't scoot her to the side. If she wasn't on top of him she started fussing, and it was strange, the way she seemed to squiggle down towards his heartbeat. He'd literally feel her relax against him, on top of his heart.

He thought of the way Effie did that every night. She still does.

After another hour Haymitch sighed, defeated. He looked at himself, trapped in his daughter's crib, and shook his head. He grabbed her blanket— _pink_ of all things—and covered both of them up. With his arms wrapped around his daughter he closed his eyes and willed himself to fall asleep.

It wasn't as hard as he thought.

"How on _earth_ did you crawl into this crib, Haymitch?" Haymitch blinked his eyes open to see Effie standing in front of the crib, a small smile on her face. It was the first time he'd seen her smile in weeks. She looked rested. The sun was shining brightly and he pulled the cover over his face. Effie laughed softly and removed the cover, grabbing Ava.

Ava whined until she was secured again in Effie's arms.

"It's feeding time, Baby Girl," whispered Effie. She grabbed the blanket—the blanket his mother had made for his brother—off of the rocking chair and sat down in the chair, lowering the front of her dress. He watched them for a few minutes, his heart pounding at the fact that he was staring at two of the most beautiful girls in the world.

Haymitch slowly untangled himself from the bed and climbed out of the crib. He was sore, and vowed that he'd never sleep there again.

He limped over to Effie, who stared at him, clearly amused.

"It's not funny, Effie," he told her.

"It is. I hope you don't make a habit out of sleeping in our daughter's bed."

"Yah, yah, live it up," said Haymitch, but he swallowed her laugh by placing his lips on hers. He could feel her surprise, but she responded almost immediately. "Thank you, for Ash and Ava."

Tears welled in her eyes. She was still emotional, and could and would cry over everything and anything. She smiled at him, blinking rapidly to make sure she didn't burst into tears. He gave her another kiss, because he could, and then bent down and kissed Ava.

"I'm gonna go shower. I think I'ma call Peeta and tell him he's on his own for the bakery. I wanna stay home with you Ava. You could use a break."

"I love you," Effie told him.

He smirked at her and turned back to Ava. "It was a great night, Angel, but never again. I'm way too old to be crawling in and out of cribs."

Effie laughed as he limped out of the room.


	162. Missing You

**MISSING YOU**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch was slowly but surely on his way to get entirely drunk. The bottle was on the table, his hand gripping it tightly, afraid that if he let it go it might disappear. He had had a glass at one point, but it had fallen from his hand and underneath the coffee table, and he hadn't bothered to get it. He just started drinking straight from the bottle.

About halfway through his bottle Effie came downstairs and gently sat on the arm of the couch, since his feet rested on the cushions.

His Effie would have never done that.

It wasn't proper.

He stared at this Effie with heavily lidded eyes, wondering who she was. She'd shown up on his doorstep about a month and a half ago, tinier than ever, and more scarred than ever. She had nightmares all night and remained dormant throughout the day. She hardly talked and she never, ever nagged.

Before she would have insisted that he move his feet so that she could sit on the couch. Instead she just plopped her small little self onto the arm on the couch, her hands folded neatly in her lap, dressed in one of his black crewnecks. She didn't say anything for a long time, and when she finally did, he only had a third of his bottle left.

"Haymitch?" Her voice was quiet, tentative, and held an underlying question.

"Princess?"

He took another drink and she turned to look at him, a small frown on her face. She watched him take another sip, and her eyes followed the bottle as he sat it back down on the table.

"Why do you still drink so much?" she finally asked.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Anything to distract me from you," he said without thinking.

She cringed, and then stiffened. Her eyes rested on his and then she inhaled sharply, letting out a slow, shaky breath.

"Why didn't you just ask me to leave then?"

He blinked at her, frowning. "Why would I? That's kinda rude, ain't it?"

"What's rude is pretending you want someone here when you clearly don't."

"Pretending? What?" Haymitch sat up and squinted at her, wishing, for once, he hadn't drank as much. Or maybe hadn't drank enough. He couldn't tell. "Effie, what're you talkin' about?"

"You should have asked me to leave if you don't want me here."

"Why would you—" Haymitch closed his eyes as it dawned on him. "What an incredibly stupid thing to say."

Effie looked like she might cry for a second, but then she straightened up her face, and Haymitch had to give her credit. She fixed him with steely blue eyes, and they were drier than ever. "I don't see how—" she started, but Haymitch cut her off.

"Not you. Me." He sighed and rubbed his face. "I didn't mean I didn't want you here, Princess. Of course I want you here. Didn't I say you could stay as long as you want? I meant that."

"But you just said—"

"Fuck what I just said. It came out wrong. I drink because I hate seein' you like this." She stiffened again, blinking. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings, Princes, but… I don't know you anymore." He frowned and grabbed his bottle, taking a long sip.

"I always thought you hated the wigs and the makeup."

Haymitch nearly choked. He sat the bottle down. "Got damn it, Effie. I didn't mean… Jesus fucking Christ," he spat. "You think I mean your _looks_?" He scoffed. "You were tortured in a cell for months and you still looked better then than you did with all that shit on your face. I don't mean your _looks_. I mean _you_. You're here but you're not here."

Now the tears did come, but they didn't fall. "I know," she finally said, looking down, and she sounded so defeated that Haymitch pictured the other bottle, his last bottle, and thought about downing that one tonight, too. "I'm so lost, Haymitch."

"Effie," he whispered, sighing.

"I can't do this alone."

"Course you can't. I'm here, ain't I?" She didn't answer. "Ain't I?"

She looked up at him. "No. Not always. Sometimes you're too drunk to move. Sometimes you sleep all day. I get so scared sometimes, because you're just on the couch, and you hardly move. I just stare at you, to make sure you're breathing." Haymitch felt the dread in his stomach at her words. "Sometimes I black out, and I'm back in the cell, but you're not there. I have to bring myself out. And when I do, you're still right here, on the couch, and I'm too scared to approach you to find out if you're alive."

Haymitch stared at her, blinking rapidly.

"Can't you… I mean… it's not fair of me to ask, I know but…. Can't you pretend to care about me and help me? Can't you put the bottle down? I'm not asking you to give it up. Just… maybe can't you do like you did for Peeta and Katniss? Even if you did _half_ of what you did for them I'd be okay."

Haymitch stared at Effie, realizing that no, he wasn't drunk enough for this. Not drunk enough at all.

"You don't think I care about you?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he cringed inside.

Effie looked away. "I thought you did." Her hands were shaking as she touched her hair. "But you…"

"I what? Left you for 13? Left you to get taken?"

She frowned as she stared at him. "What? No, of course not. That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Then what were you gonna say?" snapped Haymitch.

"That you don't… we don't… I mean we don't even _talk_ Haymitch. A couple of years ago we couldn't keep our hands off of each other, and now you can't even look at me."

Haymitch stared at her, waiting for his brain to catch up with what it was she was saying. He thought he knew, and when it sunk in, he immediately tried to think of a way to show her that she was wrong.

"You're an idiot," he finally said, but before she could do anything or say anything he pulled her down to him and forced his mouth to hers. She immediately responded, moaning, grabbing a fist full of his hair. Haymitch pulled away once he realized he had stopped breathing and his brain wasn't receiving oxygen and he was probably about to die. He was dizzy and it had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol. "I care about you, Princess. I hate seeing you like this. That's why I drink so much. I don't know how to help you."

"It's my fault," said Effie.

He scowled. "It's not either."

"Yes it is—"

"I shouldn't be drinking so much and—"

"You are being rude, Haymitch," she snapped. "I'm trying to talk to you, and if you'd be quiet for one second I can say what I need to say." Haymitch shut his mouth. "It _is_ my fault. I _know_ you, don't I? Who knows you better? You don't do well with people who are weak—"

"You're not _weak_. You were bloody tortured and you never told them a thing."

Effie stayed quiet for several moments. "Are you finished?" Haymitch bit his lip to keep from screaming. "You couldn't help a single Tribute until you found a pair that actually fought back. That's what you need. Someone who shows you they haven't just… given up. I've been sulking around here day after day, afraid of my own shadow. You don't do pity well. I'm walking around feeling sorry for myself and you don't know how to handle it. So I'll start nagging you again. I'll annoy you again. We have to get back to a routine, because I'm _losing_ it Haymitch. And… I miss you."

The tears finally came now, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He hated seeing her cry. He'd hated it since the first time he saw a tear slide down her cheek at the sight of her first dead Tributes. He'd been cruel to her then, but he knew her now.

"I miss you so much. I miss everything: the way you used to hold me, the way we argued, the way we made up. I miss telling you what to wear. I miss talking about your hair. I miss how you used to make me _feel_. You made me want to be alive, even when I wanted to die."

Haymitch pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around him. "S'okay," he whispered.

He let her cry until she wore herself out. "I wish I could stay here forever," said Effie.

"You can."

"No I can't. You smell _awful_. When's the last time you had a shower?"

Haymitch frowned. "Today, I think. Maybe. Probably. S'all kinda hazy."

She sat up, wiping her face. "Come on," she said with a sigh. "You need to bathe." He sighed and sat up. "Don't worry. I'm going to join you."

She was already up the stairs before he finally moved. Then he stumbled upstairs as fast as his drunk legs would let him.

Because the truth was, he missed her too.


	163. Food Poisoning

**FOOD POISONING**

 **Rated K**

"Oh. I'm dying. I'm dead." Effie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing out loud, and for the first time in a long time she found herself actually having to resist rolling her eyes.

This man was _impossible,_ she thought.

But sick as he was, he could still see right through her, which is why she wasn't at all surprised when he narrowed his eyes at her as she attempted not to laugh at him. He poked out his lip, and she realized he was _pouting_.

"You think this is _funny_ ," he accused.

"Yes I do," laughed Effie. "I mean you spent the better part of twenty years throwing up every day. You'd think you'd be a pro by now." She actually clutched her side as she giggled.

"Effie it's _not_ funny. This is no time for jokes. I'm _dying_."

"You're not dying, Haymitch. Honestly stop being such a wimp." Haymitch's mouth fell open. "You're a Quarter Quell Victor, and the leader of a Revolution, and you're telling me you can't handle a bout of food poisoning? It's ridiculous."

With great difficulty she refrained from telling him that she knew he was only milking it for all it was worth, because he'd been talking more these past few hours than he had for the past two days.

"You don't _care_ about me," mumbled Haymitch. Effie refused to even dignify that with an answer. She had catered to his every need for the past forty-eight hours, reliving those horrible moments of the Games when she used to have to leave the trashcan next to him, cover him up, help him shower, and change his clothes. Of course she cared about him.

Effie sighed, a smile still on lips, and declared she was going to bed.

"You're not gonna stay down here with me?" Haymitch whined.

"Honestly make up your mind. Two nights ago you didn't want me down here," stated Effie, her hands on her hips. She stared at him, sprawled out on the couch, one leg draped across the arm of the couch, the other planted on the floor. He was _ridiculous_.

"I didn't think you'd listen," he pouted, folding his arms across his chest.

Effie huffed. "For once can you _please_ tell me what it is you actually really want from me? I mean why all the theatrics? You never say what you mean. What is it you _want_ , Haymitch?"

Suddenly she was talking about a lot more than this incident. She'd spent years trying to figure him out, and suddenly, out of the blue, she was _tired_. She understood that he couldn't say that he loved her. She was okay with that. But the up and down, the back and forth, the front and back… it was driving her insane.

He seemed to know it, too. He stared at her, his bright grey eyes clearer than they had been for the past few days, and frowned slightly.

"I wouldn't mind it too much if you didn't sleep in the bedroom tonight."

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. That was the best he could do, she supposed. She had known that when she had arrived on his doorstep two years ago.

"I will go upstairs and bring down our comforter," Effie sighed.

She hid her smile until she reached the stairs.

When she came back downstairs she had changed into one of Haymitch's shirts, and she had their comforter wrapped around her. She climbed on top of him and snuggled into him, breathing him in. He still smelled like his shower.

"Don't think I don't know you've been sleepin' down here behind my back," he told her, and she gaped. "I can smell you. Your scent… it lingers. I always know when you're around."

Effie was quiet for several moments, and then cleared her throat. "I think you should get sick more often. You're much more honest when you're sick. You caught me. I can't sleep in our room alone. It's too big and so is the bed. I'm lonely without you. Plus I wanted to make sure you were okay." She paused. "I don't like it when you throw up."

He tightened his hold on her and kissed the top of her head. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad it's only food poisoning, Princess."

Effie smiled and gave him a proper kiss. "Me too," she said.


	164. In Memoriam

_The pink dress is the first dress J Lo wore while hosting the AMA's a few months ago. Movie-verse missing scene from Mockingjay2_

 _I'd also like to dedicate this to Alan Rickman. The world lost an icon. He will forever be with us. RIP Prof. Snape. Always. I hope Rita Skeeter does him justice in tomorrow's Daily Prophet._

 **IN MEMORIAM**

 **Rated T for language**

She still remembered every detail: the long-sleeved pink Michael Cinco turtle neck ball gown, completely covered in glitter, sequins, and diamonds; the nude Christian Louboutin shoes that made her feel like she was walking on clouds; the sophisticated high bun on top of her head, which was a stark contrast to her usual elaborate wig.

The dress was the statement piece that night, not her hair or her makeup.

Finnick had held her like a prize, and she'd been quite taken with the fourteen-year-old Victor. He'd approached her confidently and had asked for a dance, and she had obliged, because he was a _Victor_ , and he proved to be quite charming, kind, and sweet.

Much more than a handsome face.

Over the years he'd proven himself. It was _she_ who had told Finnick to talk to Chaff or Haymitch about Rebelling. She knew that Mags had backed her up, but she had planted the seed.

He was here because of her.

That made him dead because of her.

Her sweet, sweet Finnick.

She might as well picked his name from a glass bowl.

She froze when Caesar's face broadcasted the news, and nearly fainted when she saw Finnick's name.

Finnick. Dead.

 _Dead_.

* * *

Strangely enough the first thing she thought about when she saw Peeta's face appear on the screen was the first time they trained together. He had been such a relief after Katniss and they'd bonded over proper manners and his ability to calm her frazzled nerves and help her relax.

He was the first Tribute that she had allowed to show her the proper way to dance according to the people of District 12. All the other Tributes had been so hard to work with, but Peeta had always been one of a kind.

Or one in a million.

She had picked his name. Once. And he'd survived. On a fluke, yes. _He_ was the rebellion. Katniss was the act of rebellion, but she'd have never threatened Panem with those berries had it not been for Peeta.

The boy with the bread.

The boy who had risked everything to keep Katniss alive in _both_ Games, and had been left behind, forgotten, and turned into a Mutt. The Capitol had destroyed him, like it destroyed everything it touched, and Effie stood in front of her screen, hurt down to her soul.

Despite the fact that he was no longer the Peeta she had grown to know and love, she hadn't wished him dead.

* * *

Katniss and Effie had always had their differences. The girl thought of her as shallow and misguided, and couldn't for the life of her see that Effie was only playing a role. They'd grown somewhat closer in 13, and Effie was grateful for that.

She'd always thought Katniss was unnaturally brave.

Uncommonly so.

She was out of this world, and unlike anyone else Effie knew, save for a drunken old man who'd once won a Hunger Game himself.

Katniss was the fiercest woman she knew, and thought of her dead was laughable.

Except no laugh escaped her lips. Instead she choked out a sob—the first noise anybody in Command made as Caesar continued to talk. She felt all the eyes in the room turn to her. They were clearly surprised, aside from Haymitch and Plutarch.

Coin's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "What? Don't tell me you've grown to care for them? You? The woman who sent them here in the first place?"

Effie froze, but before she could say anything Haymitch slammed his palms down on the table.

"Out of fucking line," he barked.

"Way out of line," agreed Plutarch.

Haymitch was already on his feet, though, walking towards Coin, and Coin's bodyguards immediately went on alert.

"Calm yourselves, all of you." Coin stared at Effie. "I apologize, Ms. Trinket." Haymitch's steps faltered, and the bodyguards did the same, their eyes still on Haymitch. Haymitch was still looking at Coin, scowling. "Perhaps it'd be best if you waited outside."

She gathered her things, her head held high, her eyes filled with tears, and made her way out of Command without so much as a backwards glance. Outside Effie took several deep breaths, until the pain overwhelmed her. She slid down to the floor, gasping for breath, clutching her stomach.

She thought she might be dying.

She thought she'd much rather already be dead.

 _Finnick, Peeta, Katniss_ is all she kept thinking.

Somehow she found the strength to start walking. She just needed to walk.

It'd been a suicide mission from day one, she thought. Nobody would ever win against Snow. The entire Capitol had been turned into a bloody Arena, and there was nothing any of them could do.

When she finally made it back to her room she found Haymitch pacing.

She knew at once he was pissed.

"Where the _fuck_ have you been?" he snapped.

She had no answer, because she honestly had no clue. She must have walked around the entire quarters. Probably two or three times. It was all kind of hazy, to be quite honest. She wasn't sure how to explain that to Haymitch, though, so she just kept quiet.

"They're alive, Effie," said Haymitch, and her head jerked up towards him. "I'd have _bloody_ told you that _hours_ ago if you'd been in your room. I had Plutarch page you twice. Where _were_ you?"

She wasn't even sure she'd heard him. "They're alive?"

Haymitch let out an annoyed sigh. "Yah, Princess. Katniss made contact."

Effie felt her knees give out, but Haymitch was there in a flash.

"I can't do this, Haymitch. I can _not_. If something happens to any of you…." She gasped, sinking to the ground. "I'd never recover. Ever. You're it. There's nothing… there's no one outside of this place for me, Haymitch. I cannot _do_ this."

Haymitch sighed again, running his fingers through her hair. "I'm not sure I can, either."

"Were you scared too?"

Haymitch snorted. "That's a _bloody_ stupid question. I'm not sure I can lose anyone else. Chaff was literally it. If anything happens to any of them, I will fucking lose my shit. That goes for you too, so next time you wanna _disappear_ leave a fucking note or something, okay?"

Effie nodded, burying her face in his neck. "Are they really okay?" she breathed.

"No." Effie jerked. "They're not okay, but they're alive, and that's really all we can ask for at this time."

She thought about all the memories she had with the members of 451. She wouldn't be able to handle another in memoriam.


	165. Influencing the District

_Hey! Could use some prompts, you guys! Thanks!_

 **INFLUENCING THE DISTRICT**

 **Rated K**

 **GROCERY SHOPPING**

Haymitch put all the items on the checkout counter, triple checking for the _millionth_ time that he'd gotten everything on Effie's list, and satisfied that he had, he stepped up to pay.

"Hey, Haymitch. Where's Effie?" asked the clerk behind the counter. "She usually does the shopping, right?"

"Yah, but she's been coughing, so I didn't want her coming out in this weather. It's supposed to snow later."

"I know. Winter came quickly this year. Well did you find everything okay?"

"Yah," shrugged Haymitch, looking at the young girl. She had to be about sixteen, so he figured Paylor's new laws of allowing teenagers to work had gone through. It was a great way to get more income into people's households.

Things were changing.

Which he was forced to accept as the blonde girl gave him a smile and tucked her hair behind her ears, forcing him to glance at the colors on her hand.

"What is _that_?" Haymitch demanded.

The girl jumped slightly and looked behind her. "What's what?"

" _That_. On your _hand_." The clerk looked confused for a moment, her blue eyes curious.

"What, you mean my nail polish?"

" _Yes_. Since when do people wear nail polish?"

"Well… people don't. _Women_ do, though."

"Clever. Really funny. When did that start happening?"

The clerk shrugged and continued to ring up his groceries. "I'm definitely not the first girl to do so. The market sells bottles of nail polish now. I'm sure Effie has something to do with it." Haymitch gaped. "She's kind of a big deal now. People admire her. She has the affect on people."

Haymitch frowned, looking at the bright red nail polish on the girl's hand.

The girl gave him his total, he paid, and he started to leave.

"Tell Effie I hope she feels better," called the clerk, and Haymitch left, a small frown on his face.

* * *

 **THE HOB**

"Hey Haymitch," Greasy Sae said with a toothless grin. "The usual I presume?"

Haymitch shook his head. "Not tonight. Effie's caught a cold, so I need some soup."

Greasy Sae frowned. "Is she okay?"

"She's been better. She's got a slight fever, but nothing too bad. She's sleeping it off." Haymitch shrugged but the older woman could tell he was worried. "It started off as a cough but it's gotten pretty bad these past couple of hours."

"Winters in 12 are harsh, and I doubt she's used to it. I'll get you your soup."

"Thanks, Sae." Haymitch watched her walk off towards the back. She was gone longer than he thought she would be, and she came back with a bigger bag than he had anticipated.

"There's a slice of pumpkin cheesecake in there that should make her feel better," stated Sae, and Haymitch looked at her, surprised.

" _Pumpkin cheesecake_?"

Sae nodded. "We were talking earlier this summer and she mentioned how the only thing she missed from back home was cheesecake. I asked her what flavor and she said pumpkin, so I got together with Peeta and… it was supposed to be a surprise, but I thought she might enjoy it now. The bakery will start selling it tomorrow. Peeta said the money raised can go back to the Hob, and I think it'll be a big seller. I had a small, secret tasting and a lot of people liked it."

Haymitch just stared at her. "But pumpkin cheesecake?"

Sae grinned. "It's good. There's a slice in there for you too. Enjoy it."

Haymitch peered into the bag as if he could make the cheesecake appear, more confused than ever.

"You make sure you keep that girl of yours warm and toasty until she gets used to these winters, okay boy?"

"She's not my girl," Haymitch said automatically.

"Of course she isn't," said Sae with an eye roll. "She's more like your wife. You should make an honest woman out of her and marry her." Haymitch froze. "Don't look like a deer caught in headlights. The girl's been living with you for months. The Town's accepted her. I mean _obviously_." She glanced at the bag, with the pumpkin cheesecake. "I'd say put the ring in the slice of pie." She ushered Haymitch out of the Hob. "Now hurry on home, and think about what I said. Tell her thanks for the pie idea."

Haymitch's head was reeling as he headed back to Victor's Village.

* * *

 **SHOE STORE**

The bell dinged when he walked in, but hardly anybody could hear it over the customers in the store. Haymitch blinked at all the women in the shop, thoroughly confused.

"Hey Haymitch!" He looked up as Delly approached him.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, we're having a shoe sale. All heels are buy one, get one half off."

"A _shoe sale_?" Haymitch gaped. "All this is for _shoes_?" Delly nodded, beaming. "I'm sorry, did you say heels?"

"Yes. They're the latest fashion, directly from the Capitol. All the hottest superstars wear them." Haymitch just blinked at the girl. "You're surprised."

"Of course I am."

"Why? Effie's the inspiration."

"What does that mean?"

At that moment a customer came up to her, asking for a size. She told Haymitch to hold that thought and then she ran off towards the back, presumably to grab the heels that the girl wanted. When she came back with a box Haymitch realized that there were _more_ in her stockroom.

"I can't tell you how many women started coming to me asking me if I had Effie's shoes available. And you know Paylor gives Districts access to Capitol things now. It took a lot of negotiation, but finally the Capitol and the shop worked out a deal, so they send me shoes, and a percentage of the proceeds go back into the shop." She stared at him. "I actually thought you knew. I figured you were here on Effie's behalf since she's sick."

"No, she has enough shoes, thank you."

Haymitch thought he'd rather go back in the Arena than fight these crazy women.

"Well how is she?"

"Better. I'm making her rest for another day, but she's doing well. Katniss is sick now, which is why I'm here. She asked me to pick up her—"

"New hunting boots," nodded Delly. "Of course. I'll be right back." She went off to grab them, and a pair of pink heels caught his eye. He figured he'd had to catch Effie's fever to actually even _consider_ walking towards those deranged women, but Effie would _love_ them, he knew.

By the time Delly came back with Katniss' boots he'd grabbed the pink heels and a pair of gold ones that he'd knew she'd like, and he convinced himself it was only to make her feel better. She'd ben sick for a week and hadn't driven him to drink. That deserved a present or two.

Delly was smart enough to keep her comments to herself, and save her smile until he was halfway back to Victor's Village.

* * *

 **HAIR SHOP**

Haymitch walked up to the hair shop, trying not to cringe at all the noise from the construction. He figured he should be used to it now, but he wasn't. Not exactly. Granted the entire District was currently under construction, but this construction was newer.

"You tearin' down your shop?" Haymitch asked.

Morelle gave him a warm smile. "Not in a million years," she stated. "I'm actually adding on a nail salon."

"A nail salon?"

Morelle nodded. "They're all the rage in the Capitol." _That_ was an Effie phrase if he'd ever heard one.

"But this isn't the Capitol," pointed out Haymitch dryly.

"So. Times are changing, and I can't tell you how many people come in here asking Effie about her nails. Everyone was always under the impression that she went back to the Capitol to get her nails done, but she does them herself. She showed a few women how to do their nails a few times and I had the bright idea to just make a shop."

Haymitch could do nothing but stare. He found himself doing that a lot as he realized the influence Effie was having on his District.

"I'm actually glad I ran into you," Morelle stated. "Do you think she'd want to run it?" Haymitch jerked his head and looked at her, his mouth open. "I'd be the owner, of course, but I think she'd make a great manager. She could make all the decisions in regards to designs and colors and powders…. I don't have time for that kind of thing. And she wouldn't even have to work at the shop if she didn't want to. I just think she should have some say in it. Fashion, shoes, nails… that's her kind of thing."

Haymitch stared up at the building. He thought about the lady at the store, wearing nail polish, Peeta's bakery selling pumpkin cheesecake now, and Delly's shoe store selling heels. Even more than that he thought about the money it was bringing in: women liked her nails, they admired her dresses, and they liked her shoes.

She'd toned down herself over the past year and a half. She didn't wear such extravagant dresses, or the wigs, but she still wore the nails and the heels. And people weren't making fun of her. They were _interested_.

"Yah," Haymitch answered softly. "Yah, I think you should ask her to run it. I think she'd like that." More importantly, he thought the Town would like it.

Obviously she had had quite an influence on District 12.


	166. Trusting Capitols

_I missed Cinna and Portia, so I had to write a fic with them. Also, PROMPTS PLEASE!  
_

 **TRUSTING CAPITOLS**

 **Rated T+ for brief smut and harsh language**

Haymitch stepped off the train, a scowl on his face. His scowl deepened as his grey eyes locked with the bright blue eyes of his Escort.

The fact that he could pick her out so easily, even in something as crowded as a train station, irritated him beyond reason. He'd convinced himself over the years that the reason he could always spot his Escort at a party was because Capitol parties were intimate.

A train station wasn't intimate.

She looked ridiculous, but no more so than the rest of them. Actually she looked better than the rest of them, decked out in a spring pink dress with large yellow flowers. It was strapless and hugged every curve, until it flared out at the bottom. She had on gold accents, including her makeup, and a large pink wig flecked with gold diamonds. She also held a gold clutch in her manicured pink hands.

She didn't belong in a train station, he thought as she approached him. She was too glamorous for such a place, and that thought threw him off a little bit. He didn't know what to make from such a random thought, and he figured he wasn't drunk enough for it.

"Hello, Haymitch," said Effie, her eyes taking in everything about him, her Capitol accent thick, her smile wide.

"Wipe that smile off of your face," Haymitch snapped. "You're a real pain in my ass, okay?"

" _Language_ ," snapped back Effie, looking around as they headed off. "And I _told_ you over the phone – your presence is required. I cannot sign off on a new stylist without your permission. _Trust me_ , I have _much_ better things to do than to hang out with my drunk Mentor several weeks ahead of schedule."

Haymitch glared at her.

"I will not spend the next few hours hearing you whine and complain. Emile Dedalus made it quite clear that you had to meet Cinna and Portia and sign that you agree to them being hired. _So_ …" Effie smoothed down her dress. "How was your train ride?"

Haymitch ignored her, but Effie seemed to be okay with that.

"I do hope you apologized to Mayor Undersee for me. I hate that I had to bother him, but if _someone_ had had a working _phone_ , and/or didn't ignore my letter…." She shot Haymitch a pointed look.

"You can apologize yourself by not picking his daughter's name this year." That lone sentence had her entire back going up, and her step faltering. "That was a low blow. I didn't mean that."

With great effort Effie straightened her shoulders. There were many things he could call Effie Trinket, but hypocritical wasn't one of them. It was _chin up, shoulders back, smile on_ with her as well as their Tributes.

"Effie, I'm serious. I didn't mean that."

"It's fine, Haymitch." It wasn't fine, but she always told him it was. He could only assume it was because as an Escort – particularly his – she was used to making things fine. "I know you hate it here, plus you're nearly sober." She had told him if he showed up drunk she would be downright nasty, and it wasn't a threat he'd taken lightly. Effie wasn't able to say what it is she would do to him over the phone – he'd taught her enough over the years for her have learned to be careful – but he knew she'd surpass even his darkest fears. "Thank you for showing up halfway decent. This meeting is very important. Goodness knows we could use a new stylist, and the fact that _Cinna_ wants us… I mean he's all the rage out here."

"Whatever," mumbled Haymitch.

Effie sighed and stopped talking. He was clearly in a funk, and she wasn't about to let his bad attitude annoy her. She got them a car and told the driver her address. When they pulled up in front of her condo building, Haymitch gaped.

"What're we doin' here?"

"I just need to freshen up a bit. I will be back down in a minute."

"I'm not coming with you?" Effie arched an eyebrow. "Maybe we can _talk_ while you're getting ready?" Effie felt her body react to the statement before her mind could think better of it. It was their code word whenever they wanted to… have relations.

Their talking had certainly increased over the years.

"We can't." She glanced at the driver, but he didn't seem to be paying attention. Yet there were eyes and ears everywhere here, so she lowered her voice. "I have Finnick this weekend." Haymitch barely refrained from frowning. He'd never thought he'd be annoyed at the fact that Effie bought Finnick so that he wouldn't have to prostitute himself all weekend, but _damn_ he wasn't drunk and suddenly he was _very_ horny.

"Just hurry up," he grumbled.

She did, and was back down in ten minutes. "Finnick says hello." Haymitch sighed and folded his hands across his chest, staring out the window as they headed to their destination.

* * *

The restaurant wasn't too far. It was in the heart of downtown, and it was actually a few doors down from a bar he frequented with Chaff. He'd never seen it in daylight, and he hoped the drinks were just as good in the sunlight as they were at night.

There were cameras out front, because there were _always_ cameras in the Capitol. Women started screaming when they saw him, though he didn't know why. He was Haymitch Abernathy, former Victor of a Quarter Quell and current laughing stock of the Capitol.

The men certainly flocked towards Effie, and that was nothing new. He was used to the way they pranced towards her, though he wasn't at all used to the possessive ball in the pit of his stomach.

He'd felt it last year too, though he hadn't been sober enough to really think about it.

Effie flashed a smile that had the men panting, but before she could bask in the glory of attention he placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered them inside. She gave him a simple eyebrow arch to let him know that she knew _exactly_ what he thought, and it irritated him even more.

He scanned the restaurant for the loudest, most ridiculous Capitols he could find. He found one extravagant couple and headed towards the table, only Effie grabbed his hand. "This way, Haymitch, they are over there."

Haymitch openly gaped at the somewhat normal looking people off in the secluded corner. She – Prancer? Patience? _Portia_ – was stunning in her own right. Big blonde hair, but it looked like hers. Her eyes were brown, warm and unaltered, like her skin. She wore black. No colors, aside from her orange lipstick and eye shadow.

Cinna was even plainer. He was brown on brown, his eyes lighter than his skin, though perhaps it was just the gold liquid eyeliner across his eyes. He wore gold bracelets, a gold necklace with a bird at the end, had a small hoop earring in one ear, and, identically to his partner, wore black.

Both Cinna and Portia stood as they approached.

"Ms. Trinket," Cinna bowed, gently brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Once again, it is an honor."

"The pleasure is all mine. And I told you to call me _Effie_."

Cinna grinned at her. "If I may. This is my partner Portia." He grabbed Portia, bringing her up front. "Portia, this is Effie Trinket."

"Well aren't you stunning?" breathed Effie.

Portia smiled. "I'm being paid a compliment by _the_ Effie Trinket. Pinch me." Cinna did and she gave him a death glare that made Haymitch snort.

"This, of course, is Haymitch Abernathy," Effie stated. "Haymitch, these are the stylists I've been telling you about."

"Haymitch," said Cinna, holding out his hand. "I can't imagine it was easy coming here. Thank you for doing so, I'm sure it was quite the sacrifice." The stylist was soft spoken, and there was something about him that put Haymitch at ease. He shook Cinna's hand. "This is Portia."

Portia beamed at him. "May I say, you are still just as dreamy as when you were crowned Victor. I think you're one of the bravest men in the world."

What was _with_ these people and their compliments?

Haymitch was saved from having to say anything when a random Capitol approached them. "Does the fact that Panem's most infamous model is meeting with the Capitol's hottest designer mean you're going back to modeling?"

Effie froze, as did the rest of the group. Her Capitol smile in place, Effie turned to the man who had interrupted them. "First of all, it is _rude_ to interrupt people when they are talking. Second of all, I am retired, and have no plans to model again. I have been firm on that since I quit nearly fifteen years ago. Please go and bother someone else."

With that Effie turned back to them, and her smile was strained. She dropped the act when the man spoke again.

"Come on, give me a break. I'm a new reporter from The Capitol Time. I was the only one with enough balls to come up here and approach you. Can't I get an exclusive?"

Haymitch didn't get a chance to hear Effie's response. Portia had stepped to him by then. "Shouldn't you take care of this?" she whispered.

Haymitch snorted. "Effie doesn't need _taking care of_. She can handle herself. If he touches her I'll break his arm. Other than that?" Haymitch shrugged and smirked. "It's nice to see my Escort going off on someone else for a change. She'll have him weeping within three… two…."

"Sorry Ms. Trinket. It won't happen again." His eyes unusually bright, the reporter turned and walked away. Portia stared at him, clearly impressed, and Haymitch found himself grinning.

Effie cleared her throat. "I do apologize. Shall we sit?"

The meeting didn't take long. He didn't even have to drink all that much to realize that he _liked_ them. He'd never met Capitols like them. He'd never met _anyone_ like them. He recalled telling them that whatever they did as a design team would be ten times better than their previous stylist. Aside from that he let Effie do all the talking, while he filled up on alcohol.

It was _amazing_.

He was just wondering where the server was so he could order another drink when Effie spoke. "Haymitch?" He blinked at his Escort.

"What?"

"Your manners are _appalling_ ," scolded Effie. "Have you been listening _at all_?"

"Do I ever?"

Effie's eyes turned to slits, but it was the smile that made his stomach fill with dread. She turned back to Cinna and Portia. "Haymitch Abernathy, ladies and gentlemen." He felt her fingers on his thigh, and he barely refrained from jumping when she squeezed his thigh, her fingers digging into his flesh. "Get used to this," she told the two stylists.

"Does that mean we're hired?" asked Portia.

Effie faced Haymitch again, smiling innocently at him. "'Course it does," Haymitch stated, attempting to remain calm. Effie seemed shocked, and she let him go underneath the table.

"But you haven't asked them any of the questions I talked to you about."

Haymitch shrugged. "I never was going to. Where do I sign?" The three Capitols stared at him until he took another drink.

"You don't want to ask us _anything_?" Cinna asked, and Haymitch shook his head.

"To be honest all I wanna do is get back home. I've spent twenty years making sure I was only here when it was absolutely necessary. The longer I'm here the more annoyed I get." He threw back the rest of his drink, suddenly agitated. "I trust Effie. If she wants you, I want you."

"Well then." Effie reached into her clutch, pulling out several documents. "You two, of course, have seen these, and your signatures are already in place. I'll just get Haymitch to sign, and you'll officially be the new stylists of District 12." Effie rustled through the pages, pointing with one _very_ sharp pink nail to every place Haymitch was supposed to sign.

"Well it's certainly been a pleasure," stated Cinna, and he and Portia slid out of their side of the booth. Haymitch and Effie stood as well. Portia hugged Effie, nearly bursting with excitement, as Cinna approached Haymitch, a genuine smile on his face, his hand outstretched.

Haymitch's eyes narrowed as he noticed the necklace hanging from Cinna's neck. It wasn't just a bird, but a _Mockingjay_. Haymitch felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The two men locked eyes, grey against brown, and Cinna gave a brief nod. It was so quick Haymitch nearly thought he imagined it. It was just a single nod, and then Cinna was turning to Effie.

"You are a crowned jewel, and I feel so blessed to be working with and for you." He kissed both of her hands, making Effie flush. "I'm sure Portia and I will see you soon."

"We'll have lunch, on me," Effie assured him.

The two of them walked out, Effie and Haymitch behind them, Haymitch lost in thought.

It wasn't until Haymitch and Effie were in a cab that he noticed something was off with Effie. "What's wrong with you?" asked Haymitch. She shook her head, which concerned him even more. Effie _answered_ questions, always. "Effie."

"It's nothing, Haymitch."

He frowned at her and then reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Do me a favor," he told the driver. "Find the nearest parking garage and beat it."

" _Haymitch_!" He ignored Effie, shoving the money in the driver's face.

"Yes, Sir," stated the cab driver, snatching the large bills and speeding up. It only took a few seconds for him to pull into an underground parking garage. "Is this fine?"

"Yah," Haymitch said. "Come back in about an hour."

The cab driver snorted. "With this kind of money you could keep the cab." The driver was out the door in a flash, disappearing out of sight as if he were afraid Haymitch would realize how much he'd given him.

"Talk to me, Princess."

"Honestly, Haymitch, you can be _so_ dramatic sometimes. None of this was necessary."

"None of _what_?"

"None of _nothing_. Just…" Effie huffed and shook her head. Haymitch rolled his eyes and yanked her to him. She gasped and nearly scolded him, only his lips were on hers before she could say anything.

"I've wanted to do that since I got off the _stupid_ train," he told her, his hands everywhere.

"I've wanted you since the last time I had you." _That_ had all his blood going down south, and his eyes were rolling back into his head as she unbuckled his pants. "What would you do if I told you I wasn't wearing any underwear?"

He felt himself grow hard immediately. "I'd fuck you outta your wig."

"So vulgar," she frowned, but she sunk down on him nonetheless.

"You like me vulgar." She did, but she'd _never_ tell him that. He gripped her hips, already panting. She did this to him, all the time, whenever he was around her, and now when he wasn't around her he was missing her or thinking about her or wanting her.

He figured this was a good fix until the day of the Reaping.

If he was sober enough to get it up.

For now he was up enough, and he was trying to figure out how exactly he could get her dress off when she let out her first orgasm. He ran his hands up and down her front, gripping her hips. He scooted up so that his knees were against the back of both seats. Effie was just small enough to lock her legs around him and straddle his lap. She buried her face in his neck, her nails leaving marks in his back, even with his shirt on.

Effie let out a startled cry as he sped up, his name slipping out of her mouth. She clutched the back of the seat, giving her leverage, and started rocking her hips even faster. Haymitch let out a curse and held on for the ride, his breathing hard. He thrust up, forcing her wig to hit the ceiling.

When her teeth connected with his neck he released, moaning out her name. She rode out his orgasm, triggering her own, and she thought she might faint from pleasure. Haymitch buried his face in her chest, his breathing hard, until he felt his heartbeat start to slow down.

" _How_ did you just get me to have sex with you in a _cab_ of all things?" Effie untangled herself from him and he smirked, more than satisfied. He lifted his hips so that he could put his pants back on.

"Didn't hear you complainin'."

"That's because you were too busy yelling my name." Her voice was smug as she attempted to straighten herself, and Haymitch felt his face growing warm. He didn't _blush_. She reached up front and looked at herself in the rearview mirror, pouting. "Look at my lipstick, it's all smudged. And my wig is crooked."

"That was the best damn sex I've had since… well shit, since I last rocked your world." Effie shot him a look, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"You are going to miss your train at this rate." She reached up, fixing her hair, and he found himself wishing she'd just leave the damn wig off. Haymitch always found the transformation she made between prim and proper Effie and the woman who had just tried to ride his dick off fascinating.

"I'm a former Victor. That train won't leave without me." It was true enough. She reached into her purse, reapplying her lipstick that he was _sure_ was all over his neck and collar.

She was a biter, Effie was.

The cab driver came back just as Effie gave Haymitch one final look over. She had long ago threw the door open to air out the smell of sex. If the cab driver suspected anything he didn't let on, but Haymitch gave him another bill to ensure he kept his mouth shut.

"I see anything improper in the paper it'll be your ass," Haymitch told him darkly. The cab driver nodded and they were off towards Effie's. Outside of her complex Effie got out. Haymitch told the driver to wait and got out with her.

"I never took you as the type to walk a woman to her door," smiled Effie.

"Then you don't really know me, Trinket."

Her smile faltered. "I guess I don't." She touched her hair, suddenly nervous. "Did you mean it?" Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "About trusting me?"

So _that's_ what all the nervousness was about. He paid her a simple compliment. Figured she'd take it and run with it.

But _of course_ he trusted her. Certainly more than others. She'd proven herself enough over the years by taking care of him and cleaning up after him. Aside from that she hadn't ever ratted him out, because he couldn't always control his tongue when he was drunk, and he _knows_ he let a few things slip over the years.

Not to mention she never, _ever_ slept with him when he was too drunk to think, and let's face it, his hands _definitely_ wandered when he was drunk. That alone was reason enough to trust her, because she'd never taken advantage of him.

Yah, he trusted her. She currently had a Victor staying with her that she bought and paid for nearly every other weekend to give the boy a break from prostituting, particularly since he was in love now.

"I meant it, Princess," said Haymitch softly. He tucked a single strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Thank you," Effie said. "I'll see you at the Reaping."

"Tell Finnick hello." With that he headed back to the cab.

"I believe there'll be a treat for you on the bar cart," called Effie. "A thank you from us for coming here."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "How'd you pull that off?"

"I have my ways, Mr. Abernathy." She gave him a final wave and walked into her complex.

On the train Haymitch stared at the bottle of the Capitol's finest liquor.

For once he wasn't thinking about the drink.

 _It was a pleasure meeting you._

 _Thank you for the opportunity to work with you._

 _-Cinna and Portia_

 _PS: Plutarch and Cressida say hello._

Haymitch read the note several times, blinking rapidly, until he finally ripped up the note into tiny pieces.

Pouring himself a drink he swallowed the torn pieces of paper, like he'd been trained to do all those years ago.

It looked like Effie wasn't the only Capitol he'd be trusting.

 _I LOVED this one, I thought it was original. Probably because I love Cinna, but I swear I'm obsessed with how he became in on the Rebellion. How did Haymitch find out he was in on it? When did that discussion take place? Like there are just so many questions and NO answers LOL. So I create them in my head. Thank you, fan fic._


	167. Little Pumpkin

_GuestJ—you have reviewed a few times, and have requested several prompts over the months. I certainly appreciate that. Do you think you could sign in as opposed to leaving Guest reviews so that I can respond to you? Thanks. And FYI, to answer your question, in 'Trusting the Capitol' (Ch 166) Haymitch knew Effie was somewhat involved, figuring he knew she was keeping Finnick. If he knew she was totally involved… excellent question. I have not explored Haymitch's POV on this yet for that fic LOL._

 **LITTLE PUMPKIN**

 **Rated T**

"Princess? How you feelin'?"

"Bad," replied Effie, shifting slightly as Haymitch sat down next to her on the bed.

"Do you wanna cancel?"

"Absolutely not. The kids have been looking forward to the pumpkin patch all week. I'm not about to cancel it just because I don't feel well." Effie sat up, attempting to get out of bed.

"Hold on, Princess." He reached out to keep her in place. "You haven't been feeling well for a while now. Maybe you should stay here. I can take the kids."

Effie stared at him skeptically. "Please. You'll have started drinking again within the first hour. There's too many of them."

"There's only five of them," disagreed Haymitch. "I don't want to risk giving them whatever it is you got."

Effie sighed and got up. "Darling, the truth is what I have, there is no cure for. But the kids won't catch it. At least not yet."

"What are you talkin' about?" He couldn't quite hide the panic from his voice.

Haymitch… I'm old."

Haymitch paused, and then burst out laughing, literally laughing, tears in his eyes, until he realized that she was serious. "Effie, you're not old," he told her.

"But I am. I've just been so tired lately. Exhausted, really. My back aches. My feet are swollen. I'm gaining weight."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "I already told you I hadn't meant anything by what I said. So there's a little something extra in your hips. I _liked_ it," mumbled Haymitch. "You look fine."

"But I _have_ gained weight. I can't fit into some of my old skirts."

"Well you've been eating everything in sight." Shit. Oh shit. Wrong thing to say. Even _he_ knew _that_.

Her gasp proved he was in for it. Her eyes immediately welled with tears. "That is the rudest thing you've ever said to me." And then she was off to the bathroom, slamming the door. He cringed. She _never_ slammed doors. It wasn't very proper. He was in for it now.

"Effie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," said Haymitch to the door.

"Go away."

"Please just talk to me. I hate seeing you like this."

"Well get used to it," she snapped. "I'm _old_."

"No you're not," snapped back Haymitch.

"I'm going through menopause, Haymitch."

He froze, his mouth open. "No way."

He heard her sigh and she opened the door. "I have to be. I sleep all day. I'm cranky. My appetite is increasing. And I'm late." He stared at her, at a loss for words.

"Effie, you can't be. You just turned forty-five…ish." He frowned. He wasn't sure how old she was, actually. He knew she turned thirty twice, and after forty she kept telling people she was twenty-one. "It's much too early for menopause." That much was true, he decided. She definitely wasn't over fifty. _He_ was fifty.

If anyone was old, it was him.

"Apparently not. I mean what else could it be? Face it: I'm _old_." And then she burst into tears, closing the door again.

Haymitch sighed and left, knowing nothing he could say would help the situation. He went and gathered up all the children. By the time he went back and forth between houses Effie was downstairs and ready.

"Well don't you all just look adorable?" asked Effie. Ash had on an orange shirt that said 'Does this shirt make me look like a pumpkin?' while Ava was actually dressed like a pumpkin. Willow's shirt was a jack-o-lantern while Finn had on a shirt with candy corn spelling out the word PUMPKIN. Haymitch had on an orange shirt that said 'Big Pumpkin.' Effie finished off the ensemble with a white dress with orange pumpkins.

"You look pretty," Willow said, and Effie beamed.

"Thank you."

"Okay, kiddos, let's go," said Haymitch. He gave Effie a pointed look, and she appeared next to him in an instant.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she whispered as they made their way outside, the gang of kids in front of them. "I'm a nightmare, I know. I promise I'll make it up to you."

He didn't have to glance at her to know what she meant. Lately she couldn't stay off of him.

"Maybe menopause is a good thing. You haven't been on top of me, or under me, this much since you were pregnant with Ava."

Effie grinned. " _That_ was a great nine months," remembered Effie.

"And you're just as eager now as you were then. So you're not that old."

"Yah, but I'm just so tired after all."

"Isn't there a saying about good dick putting you to bed?" smirked Haymitch, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yes. Good dick makes you fall asleep—"

"See?"

"But great dick gives you energy."

That had Haymitch frowning. "Well maybe I'm lacking."

" _Please_ Haymitch. _You've_ been amazing. You always are. It's me, trust. I'm just old, and we have to accept that."

He sighed. He wasn't going to keep telling her she wasn't old. He dropped the subject and they headed off towards Town, Ash and Finn leading the way, Ava walking with Rye and Willow.

"I need to schedule a doctor's appointment," said Effie, and Haymitch nodded.

They didn't talk about it anymore. They just enjoyed their time at the pumpkin patch. They did nearly everything, from log climbing to the obstacle course and the corn maze. Haymitch even consented in pulling everybody in the wagon, Effie's arm in his. At the very end of the night they all carved pumpkins, with the exception Ava and Rye. Effie and Haymitch carved theirs.

Afterwards the kids were tired and cranky, but they carried their pumpkins all the way home. They made their way to Victor's Village with Ash and Willow bickering on who had the better pumpkin.

"Everything's always a competition with those two," muttered Haymitch.

Effie arched an eyebrow, amused. "Remind you of anyone we know?"

"Katniss and I don't compete with each other," Haymitch said.

Effie made a noise that sounded awfully close to a snort.

 **XxXxXx**

"Tell me again what the doctor said?" asked Haymitch for the thousandth time as they made their way to 12's new hospital.

Effie sighed. "He just said to come to his office."

"But why did he insist I come with you?"

"He didn't. He just suggested that you should come along." Haymitch took a deep breath. "Don't panic, Haymitch, okay? Let's just get there and see what he says."

He stopped her and turned to look at her. "If something's wrong with you, I'm letting you know now I'm going to fucking _lose_ it."

It was obvious he was serious. His eyes were dark, his hands shaking. "Haymitch."

"I'm serious."

"I don't think anything's wrong," said Effie. "I feel okay. I mean granted I'm still tired, but Ava is a handful. Now that Finn's back in 4 I'm sure I'll be fine."

"But you've been throwing up and—"

"Haymitch, let's just listen to the doctor, okay? You might be reacting this way for nothing. Don't be upset, please." She grabbed his hand and he pulled her to him. "I'm okay. My body would tell me if there was anything wrong. I'm only going through menopause."

"I'm so fucking scared, Effie. I can't _do_ this."

"I know. I'm sorry." She kissed him softly, and then they made their way to the hospital.

Inside the doctor's office they sat down and waited for the doctor to appear. Haymitch tapped his foot nervously. She patted his knee to calm his nerves, and he gripped her hand, tightly. She knew he was itching for a drink. He hadn't been this scared in quite a few years.

They'd gotten comfortable.

At that moment the doctor walked in, carrying a folder. He was clearly from the Capitol, but he smiled warmly at them both, and Haymitch wondered if he was a rebel.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me," he said.

"Listen, Doc," barked out Haymitch, "Whatever it is give it to us straight. Don't beat around the bush. If you got bad news, give it to me hard and fast."

The doctor—Steinfield, his nameplate read—blinked at Haymitch. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I scare you two by asking you to come here?"

"No _shit_ ," Haymitch snarled.

"Haymitch!" said Effie, clearly appalled.

"Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy, relax," Dr. Steinfield said. "Nothing's wrong…. At least… not nothing that won't go away in a few months."

Haymitch felt his heart stop. "How many months?"

"Well, we'll have to take an ultrasound, but I'm pretty sure another seven and a half months or so." Effie and Haymitch blinked at him for several moments, until he finally said, "Kids, you're having a baby. Or well… another one."

More silence.

"Oh, were you not trying?" asked the doctor. "This seems to be a surprise, which I never understand, because there are symptoms."

"I thought I was going through menopause," Effie said.

The doctor laughed. "Mrs. Abernathy, you're much too young for menopause. I mean this isn't the 21st Century anymore. Women's bodies have advanced. You're still in your prime."

Effie just blinked at him, and then she glanced at Haymitch, who hadn't moved an inch. "Doctor, I _can't_ be pregnant. I mean there's just no way."

Dr. Steinfield looked at her. "Do you have sex?" he asked dryly. Effie's blush was answer enough. "Then you can be pregnant. We ran your blood. You're healthy. You're average weight. This won't even be considered an at-risk pregnancy. I've delivered babies from women several years older than you."

"There must be a mistake. I mean…." Effie glanced at Haymitch again, who still hadn't moved. "I mean… are you _sure_?"

"Well I'm the doctor, so yes, I'm sure. Like I said, we'll need an ultrasound to determine how far along you are, but your blood work came back positive."

Effie leaned forward. "Doctor, we already have two little pumpkins. I don't think I can handle another one."

Dr. Steinfield stood up. "I guess you better hire a nanny then. My assistant will set you up for that ultrasound. Good luck."

 **XxXxXx**

"I don't know what to say," sobbed Effie, sitting on the bed. She looked up at him. "Except that it's all _your_ fault."

" _Mine_?"

" _Yes_ ," Effie hissed. "You know why? Think about it. What happened a month a half ago?"

"Hell if I know, Effie. When was a month a half ago? The end of August?"

"Yes it was. And do you know where we went at the end of August?"

"We—" Haymitch stopped. "We went to 4 to visit Annie." Effie nodded, wiping her eyes. "Shit it _is_ my fault." He sat down heavily next to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Can I tell you something?"

"What?"

"I'm actually okay with this." Effie stilled. "I am. I went into that hospital thinking something was _wrong_ with you, Effie. You have no idea how close I was to having a relapse. Instead we left that hospital with another life. Another creation of you and me. We've already got two incredible kids as it is."

At that moment, almost on cue, Ava pitter-pattered into the room. She looked at Effie, grinned, and ran up to her, her arms raised, still dressed in her pumpkin suit from several days ago. She currently was refusing to take it off.

"Can you keep a secret, Ava?" whispered Effie.

She giggled, drooling.

"You're no longer the last little pumpkin."

Ava giggled, clapping her hands, and Effie rubbed her nose against Ava's cheek.

"Seriously, Effie, after this… no more, okay?"

"Absolutely not. You're getting a vasectomy."

Haymitch snorted. "Like hell I am."

"Oh, you are." She stood up, cradling Ava. "We don't want Daddy to give Mommy anymore little pumpkins."

"Effie, I am definitely _not_ doing that. You can get your tubes tied if you need to. Change your birth control prescription. Hell, I'll start buying condoms if I need to." Ava started to fuss and Haymitch grabbed her away from Effie. "Mommy can get her tubes tied if she wants, because the bun in her oven is the last pumpkin pie to be baked. No more little pumpkins, right Angel?"

Ava wrapped her arms her father, as if to second that motion.

 _SURPRISE! Nother Hayffie baby (it's the last one)._


	168. Shifted Dynamics

" _I really enjoy these fics that show just how much Effie has grown on everyone; that they fight for her and love her like family. I especially adore the dynamic that she has with 'the kids', namely Peeta. After the fic where she called him her son, there's been a prompt ruminating around my brain. I think it would be interesting to see one where Haymitch comes home to see Effie comforting Peeta after Katniss does something, well Katniss like, that upsets the boy. Haymitch doesn't interrupt, but he notes how Effie has become Peeta's go to for advice and how his own dynamic with K & P has shifted." Karmicsamadi86 suggested this and I loveddddddd it. _

_By the way I LOVE when a one-shot prompts a prompt. The one-shot where Effie calls Peeta her son was Of Old Kisses & New Traditions (Chapter 71) and a whole new story has come to life from that little sentence. For those of who you have expressed that you want to request a prompt, but you don't know what, try thinking about one of my one shots that you might want me to elaborate on. That always works!_

 **SHIFTED DYNAMICS**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch walked back into the house, sighing dramatically. Sometimes that girl was just too damn dramatic for her own good. She was definitely too much like him. He told her that, too.

He took off his sweater—it was getting cooler—and noticed his back door was open. He was one second away from panicking when he heard a familiar laugh. He breathed a sigh of relief and made his way to his backyard.

"Honestly Peeta, you should know better by now," Effie was saying with a smile in her voice. They were sitting on the swing in the backyard, a blanket around Effie.

"I know. It just gets confusing sometimes…." Peeta let the insinuation hang in the air: that he was still having flashbacks, and Katniss wasn't helping him because she was _Katniss_ , and it was affecting their lives. "How do you do it with Haymitch? I mean you've been putting up with him for years. Way longer than I've been putting up with Katniss."

 _Putting up with_? Haymitch thought with a frown. If anyone was putting up with anybody, it was him.

Effie chuckled softly. "It hasn't been easy."

Haymitch froze. Was she unhappy?

"We just have to know them, and empathize. It took me seeing Haymitch's Games to really _see_ him. Even then I wanted to know what _happened_ to that boy. Where was that cocky bastard charming the crowd?"

"He's still a cocky bastard," grinned Peeta.

 _Hey_! Haymitch thought.

Effie laughed again, throwing her head back. "Yes he is." Haymitch gave her admission a pass because she said it with love and warmth. "But he was only a shell of the man I'd seen on television. When I finally found out he'd lost his family, and his girl, I _really_ understood him then. _Truly_ understood."

Haymitch gritted his teeth. It took everything in him not to interrupt them. _This_ they didn't talk about. Not even Effie.

Effie looked at Peeta. "You and me? We're different. You come from a household where your mother abused you. Yet you love easily. Me? My parents never loved each other. To this day I bet they barely tolerate each other. It's the way most marriages are in the Capitol. Yet I knew I wanted something different. I couldn't imagine living my life without love. Despite our circumstances, you and I believe in love. We still have hope."

She stared out into the backyard, her voice growing softer. "Katniss, who lost her father in that mining accident, and Haymitch, who had the people he cared about the most lose their lives—even worse, killed—they look at love as a weakness. A way to get hurt. We can be used against them, and that thought is terrifying to them. Yet they love us anyway. Sometimes that has to be enough. They didn't mean to… but they do. I can look at Haymitch every single day for the rest of my life and spend every second telling him I love him, and he'll never say it back." Haymitch felt his heart drop. "In all of our years together he's only ever said it once, after he found me in that cell. But I'm okay with that." He started breathing a little easier. "Because he proves that he loves me with every breath that he takes. And so does Katniss. Love is an action word. Haymitch doesn't have to say it, and I'm long past the point of needing to hear it. They show it to us, Peeta. And we have to love them a little harder to accept that."

Peeta paused for a long time, and then said, "Don't you ever get tired of being the only one to sacrifice?"

Effie sighed. "Peeta… them loving us is the biggest sacrifice of all. There are times I still think Haymitch would rather be alone, drinking himself to death than loving me. He has nightmares about me sometimes. Not often. But the fear in his eyes doesn't leave for days." She paused. "The fear never leaves them. We have to accept that. We have to accept _them_."

Peeta paused again, this time for a longer period of time. Finally he turned back to Effie. "I used to talk to Haymitch about me and Katniss. He used to just say 'She loves you. Go figure it out.'"

Effie shook her head, laughing. "Yes, well, he has the emotional range of a teaspoon."

"Sometimes, but not always." They both turned to him at the sound of his voice. He stared pointedly at Peeta. "She loves you. Go figure it out." Haymitch jerked his head and Peeta laughed. He stood up and thanked Effie, and then he was gone, heading back towards his own house. Haymitch sat down next to Effie, who wrapped the blanket around them both and rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't have the emotional range of teaspoon. Whatever _that_ means."

"Fine. A tablespoon then." Haymitch scowled, even though he knew she was teasing him.

"The girl understands me well enough," muttered Haymitch.

"I bet she does," Effie said with a grin.

"What does that mean?"

Effie looked up at him. "Are you jealous?"

Haymitch snorted. "No. I just think it's funny how the dynamics have shifted. Peeta comes to you, and Katniss comes to me."

"You talked to her?"

"I found her outside, sitting on her front steps, brooding." Which is the same thing he did whenever he and Effie had a particularly bad argument, but neither of them mentioned that. "I guess I never really noticed before, but who decided who gets who?"

"I think the kids did," said Effie thoughtfully. "I get Peeta, you get Katniss. I think it's a natural decision." She rested her head back on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her.

Things had changed. He didn't know when. Maybe it was when she showed up on his doorstep. Or maybe it when was she started to get better. Who knows? What he did know is the kids were better off, and so were they.

"What are you thinking?" Effie asked.

"That you were wrong." Effie scoffed. She was never wrong in her mind. "You were wrong when you said you thought I missed the days when I was alone and drinking. I don't. Everything's better when you're here, Princess." He kissed the top of her forehead.

She sighed, content. _This_ was how she knew he loved her. They dynamics _had_ changed over the years, but they were both okay with that shift.


	169. Goodbye, Haymitch

" _ItsMeGetOverIt: What about for a prompt; its the other way around from this chapter. After the war, and because 12 is so desolate or the government want to keep an eye on Effie (because of her involvement in the Games) she isn't allowed to move there? So Effie gets a 'you must live and report within these boundaries' letter and she's got to tell Haymitch she can't even visit 12 or something along those lines? A sucker-punch in the opposite direction." This is referencing 'Goodbye Princess,' (Chapter 103)._

 **GOODBYE, HAYMITCH**

 **Rated T**

"Haymitch, Plutarch and I fought as hard as we could for her, but you also have to understand… we fought for Democracy." Paylor sighed into her phone. "It was voted on."

Haymitch held his breath.

"Effie's not allowed to leave the Capitol. Plutarch and I did suggest allowing her to come to 12 for _one day_ to say goodbye, but until further notice, that's it. I'm sorry, Haymitch."

 _I'm sorry, Haymitch_.

 _Sorry, Haymitch_.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, holding the phone in his hand, but when he finally hung up, he was hallow inside.

 **XxXxXx**

Peacekeepers brought her to Victor's Village. Seeing them made his blood boil, and he had a mind to go tell them all off, but he figured it was difficult enough as it was for her. He watched as the Peacekeepers waited outside the kid's front door. She knocked, clearly nervous, and after a few short moments the door swung open.

Now all Haymitch had to do was wait.

Effie hadn't been given a lot of time to visit. She was to be in and out in one hour, so she split her time in half between them. She'd always been punctual, and he wasn't at all surprised when she knocked on his door right on time.

He took a deep breath and swung open the door.

He'd seen her without her wigs, makeup, and costumes before, but she'd never looked more beautiful to him. It was funny, how life worked. If he was good at anything, it was taking people for granted, and he'd certainly done so with her. He realized that the minute they found her in that cell.

Deep down, in the most vulnerable part of his soul, he was hurt, because he had never thought about how she would survive after the war. He'd always been worried about the Districts. Never the citizens of the Capitol. But there _had_ to be more people like Effie. She couldn't be the only one with a heart. People like Effie had never crossed his mind.

And yet she stood before him, just as broken as he was, if not more, because he had wanted this. So had she, but she had no idea, really, the life she'd be forced to live now. The life he had forced her to live.

Her eyes were still vacant, and as he finally moved aside to let her in, after wasting several precious minutes just _looking_ at her, he realized how truly frail she looked and seemed.

She stood in front of him, blinking, and he held his breath.

"You're sober," she stated.

"In this moment, yes," replied Haymitch. "There's definitely a bottle or two with my name on it, waiting for me."

She frowned. "I don't want you to drink anymore. We've won."

He was a Victor, he remembered. That had never made him a winner.

"You didn't win shit, Princess," Haymitch said coldly. "They're holding you prisoner."

"The Capitol is my home, Haymitch."

"No, the Capitol is your _cell_ ," spat Haymitch. "They didn't give you a choice."

"I wouldn't have left, Haymitch." He froze as he stared at her. "I meant what I said when you asked. I didn't want to come back here with you."

His face went blank.

"You understand, don't you?" Effie whispered. "I just need time to figure out who I am, and maybe this is the best way." He didn't comment. "You take care of our Tributes. And you damn sure better take care of yourself."

She kissed him goodbye this time. Not like last time, when he'd told her he was no longer 12's Mentor. She was confident she'd see him again. This time, however, was different. He knew a goodbye kiss when he felt one. He'd had his fair share over the years: the day of his Reaping. The day he went to 13. When she went into surgery for her injuries. When he'd left her apartment at the end of the war.

 _This one_ , felt even more final than any of the others.

She gave him a watery smile and stepped back from him, her hands lingering on his face. She took a deep breath, lowered her hands, and made her way towards the door.

"Goodbye, Princess," Haymitch called. She turned back and gave him a soft smile, and then she was gone.

She hadn't made it down the steps before he was at his cupboard, pouring himself a glass.

It wasn't until she was leaving, the train whisking her away from 12 for the last time, the District but a blur, that she palmed the glass window and whispered, "Goodbye, Haymitch."

 _Consider this a prequel to Adele's Hello, which I will work on as SOON as I stop hating song-fics. Still waiting…._


	170. Visiting 12

_Hey ya'll! SO funny story: I have a friend who follows this story named allfeelsallthetime (she had no idea I was thamockingjayandpeeta, and I had no idea allfeelsallthetime was my friend until after like 20 reviews LOL) ANYWAY I'm letting you know that my LOVELY friend tends to come over and log into fanfic on my computer and she NEVER logs out, so if you ever get a response from a review from allfeelsallthetime, it's probably me. It's happened twice already. DON'T JUDGE US! LOL anyway enjoy_

 **VISITING 12**

 **Rated K**

She got off the train, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. She glanced around, almost unsure of what to do. It didn't make any sense, she knew. She _knew_ this place. But she hadn't been here in _years_ , and she wasn't sure what to expect. She never thought about it. She never thought she'd come back, yet here she was.

Everything was different. So different. Hardly recognizable. There were buildings and people everywhere. People were laughing. Kids were playing. She was witnessing things she'd never seen before. Things she'd never thought she'd see.

Even Victor's Village was different now. The houses were occupied. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the yards full of dandelions and primroses. Peeta's doing, of course. The houses looked loved. There were kids from different Districts playing in the front yard. Some of them stared curiously at her. They'd never seen her before, she knew.

She still couldn't believe she was here either.

Sighing she looked at the large house in front of her, her bag in her hand. Was she really about to do this? _Could_ she do this? She had to, she reminded herself. She had said she would come, and she was here. There was no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Everdeen walked into the house.

* * *

Mrs. Everdeen took a sip of her wine, her eyes resting on the couple in front of her. She watched as her daughter and her daughter's husband—her son-in-law—made dinner together. He was complaining about how lousy she was in the kitchen and she claimed he had known that before they'd gotten married.

Mrs. Everdeen wasn't offended that she hadn't been invited to the wedding. She hadn't deserved to be invited, and she knew that.

Still, the little bout of protectiveness that she felt for her daughter had her watching Peeta closely. It was obvious he didn't need watching. She had no reason to be worried. Peeta loved Katniss, and Mrs. Everdeen bet that he was just as good a man as his father had been. It was in the way his eyes lit up every time he saw her. They worked well together, and complimented each other. They understood each other. It was obvious they were in love.

Their child would be well cared for.

Mrs. Everdeen stared at Katniss' round belly. Katniss would pop any minute now, she mused. She knew Katniss was scared, but she was ready.

She took another sip of her wine, turning her attention to the other couple in the room. They were amusing, and total and complete polar opposites in so many ways that it was ridiculous. Yet their love for each other rivaled that of Peeta and Katniss. Their love for each other was obvious in their chemistry. They _knew_ each other, had seen each other at their worst, yet had turned each other into their best.

It was in the way he gently placed his hand on the small of her back, and she would instantly relax. The way he'd upset her only to smirk, and suddenly she was smiling. The way his fingers brushed her knuckles, or she brushed his hair out of his face.

The way he looked at her with the same reverence he would look at the train when it brought his liquor: relieved that she was here to make him forgot.

She used to treat him for alcohol poisoning. She'd lost track of how many times Hazelle had called her when she'd showed up to clean his house. It was a countless amount of times, she remembered.

Now she would be helping him deliver his baby in a few months.

The four of them were happy: the Mockingjay, the Boy With the Bread, the Mentor, and the Escort.

She'd never believed in fairytales. Ever since her best friend's name had been called at the Reaping death had seemed to follow her. She'd lost so much in 12.

But it seemed like these four had found a little happy ever after here.

 **XxXxXx**

He arrived on their doorstep only slightly nervous. She had assured him when they talked that he had no reason to be nervous, but he couldn't stop the butterflies from forming in his stomach. He hadn't seen her in ten years.

Time had flown by.

It had taken her years to forgive him. He never reached out to her. What would he have said? What could he have said? Words would never change anything.

Actions always spoke louder than words.

Still, he'd kept up with her well enough over the years. News about how she was doing seemed to come to him out of the blue and for no reason. He'd gotten used to the updates. He should have expected them.

He never thought he'd be back here, though. He _hated_ this place. All the memories. The death. The destruction. The heartache. They should have just left this place how it was, in his opinion.

Yet he'd passed the buildings he had help construct. He saw his designs in Town, and in the Seam. He'd passed the mines on his way here, and recognized his hand in that, too.

This place was better now.

Now it was time to make _them_ better.

He had his uniform on, not just because he was a soldier, but because it reminded him to be brave. This should be simple. All he had to do was knock on the door.

"You ready?" he asked the woman next to him.

She smiled at him, her bright green eyes shining. "I'm a little nervous," admitted the woman. "It's not often a woman meets her husband's first love."

At that moment the door swung open, and he didn't know if his face held a grimace or a smile.

"Hey, Catnip," he said softly.

"Hello, Gale."

* * *

He gratefully accepted the cookies Peeta laid before them. They were just as good as he remembered. He hadn't gotten a chance to indulge much growing up, but he wondered if he could convince the baker to start a franchise.

These cookies should be sold in stores.

"That's a lovely necklace, Eve," said Katniss softly.

"Thank you," blushed Gale's wife, gently grabbing the necklace with the miniature Mockingbird attached to it. "I love Mockingbirds. I wish I could sing but…." She smiled and Katniss laughed. "Gale bought it for me as a push gift. He'll have to buy another one soon." She slid her hand into his and smiled at him.

"That's great," Katniss said.

"How old is your youngest?"

"Rye's five months."

"Well she'll be born in about six." She touched her belly.

"You two make a lovely couple," Peeta said.

He watched Peeta and Katniss as they attempted to play host. They worked well together, he noted. Better than when they had while in the Games, and even then they'd always been a pretty good team. He supposed years of being together had made them perfect that gift. They had a whole conversation without having to utter a word.

She used to be able to do that with him.

It didn't matter anymore, he realized once he didn't feel jealousy or disappointment.

All he missed about Katniss was her friendship.

"Thanks," responded Gale. "So do you two."

At that moment the front door swung open. Gale turned and found himself staring into the grey eyes of Haymitch Abernathy, Effie Trinket behind him.

"Oh my _God_ ," exclaimed Effie. "I forgot! This was so _terribly_ rude of me. Call it Mommy brain. I _knew_ you two would have company."

"It's okay, Effie," Peeta said, standing. "Come on in and let us introduce you."

Gale, ever the soldier, immediately picked up on their chemistry. There was almost something magical about watching Haymitch and Effie. The way they walked together, in sync. The way they stood side by side. The way he introduced Effie to Eve by placing her in front of him. The way Haymitch took in every word Effie spoke, and only had eyes for her.

They were happy, he realized. Katniss and Haymitch had found the two people that could make them happy.

That, in turn, made him happy to be home for a while.

 **XxXxXx**

She could hear the laughter as she came downstairs. She headed towards the kitchen, where she knew they all were, but didn't immediately make her presence known. Instead she stood just outside the door, where she could see them, but they couldn't see her.

She'd been thrilled when she'd gotten the phone call, and she hadn't wasted anytime in packing her things and jumping on the first train here. She _missed_ them, which was strange, because she technically didn't know any of them.

At least she hadn't.

Not before.

She knew of the older two. Of course she did. Who _didn't_ know of Haymitch and Effie? They were legends in their own right. Haymitch, the cocky Victor who'd won his Games but lost everything else. Effie, the Capitol double agent, an Escort by day, a spy by night.

They were the true star-crossed lovers, and it was obvious.

Even now, at their age, they were still in love. It was obvious with the way she practically sat on his lap, which wasn't very proper, particularly since there was a vacant stool. He couldn't keep his hands off of her, and they'd be pregnant with baby number four if they weren't careful.

His hands were around her waist, and Katniss and Peeta must have been used to it, because they weren't shooting the older couple dirty looks as they prepared breakfast. Whenever Peeta and Katniss' back was turned Haymitch started nibbling on Effie's neck.

It made goose bumps appear on Effie's flesh.

They were perfect, she thought.

At that moment two pairs of feet came up behind her.

Ash smiled at her and waved good morning, and then he made his way inside to greet his parents.

"Hey, Mom."

She smiled. "Hey, Finn. You hungry?"

* * *

Annie stepped inside the kitchen.

"Did you guys have a good night?" asked Katniss. Finn and Ash were like brothers. They talked on the phone at least three times a week, and the two of them had started hinting at wanting a computer so that they could talk online.

"Yah," the two boys chimed in regards to Katniss' question.

"Thanks for letting me stay the night, Aunt Katniss," Ash said.

"It wasn't a problem at all," stated Katniss. "It just means your parents owe Peeta and I a night to ourselves sometime this week."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. " _Not_ fair. Only Ash stayed the night. If you want a night alone with Peeta you need to give me and Effie a _true_ night."

"Don't be ridiculous," Effie stated. "We'll gladly take the kids off your hands for a night or two."

Katniss and Peeta shared a glance, and Annie smiled.

They were still in love too. Probably even more so now than ever. They were nothing like they were in 13. Annie still remembered watching their Games. She normally didn't watch them, as mandatory as they were, but there was something about Katniss and Peeta.

She'd always believed in their love.

Finnick hadn't, and no matter how much they'd discussed it during the next year, they could never agree.

He'd love to see them together now.

Perhaps he was watching now, through Finn's eyes.

She' d love to visit 12 with Finnick, but he was with her.

He was always with her.

Every time she saw love, be it with these two couples, or random couples walking by, she felt Finnick. And she never felt him more than when she was with them.

 _I think I want to do a second generation one, where all the kids notice different things that Everlark and Hayffie do for each other. What do you guys think?_


	171. The Fault in Our Scars

_Prompt: "The general idea is that upon Effie's return to 12, Haymitch comes to realize that she can't stand being touched. It reminds her too much of being held by her torturers. He understands and doesn't argue when she insists on sleeping in a seperate bedroom. One night though she wakes terrified, having become tangled in her sheets, remembering how they kept her bound in her cell. Haymitch comes when he hears her screaming and seeing that her fear has made her get sick on herself he realizes that she needs a bath. It's when he takes her nightgown off though that he really gets to see the extent of her scars both physical and emotional. Effie allows him to bathe her though and it's the first real breakthrough that they have in piecing her back together."_

 _On a side note, the title is not referencing the movie, but is simply a play on words, and more so in correlation with the Shakespeare line._

 **THE FAULT IN OUR SCARS**

 **Rated T**

"I have to take your clothes off now, okay?" Haymitch told her quietly.

"K." That simple response, that one syllable word that was so un-Effie like, broke the last remaining specially constructed parts of his heart that he had left. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and to swallow back the undeniable desire to leave her and go downstairs and drink himself into oblivion.

Instead he bent down to gather her nightdress and she immediately stiffened. He froze.

"Effie," he said, almost warily.

"Scars."

He stilled. "I have them too you know. You know that." And she certainly did know. She had known his body better than he had at one point. She'd seen all of him. Long gone were the days of him pushing her skirt up just enough to push into her, and her pulling his pants down just enough to get him loose.

"But I haven't had them." The statement was simple enough, but it rubbed him the wrong way nonetheless. After everything they'd been through did she really think he was so superficial? "You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, Princess." She inhaled sharply. "What? What is it?"

"You called me Princess," said Effie softly, her voice clearly shocked.

Haymitch frowned. "Do you hate that now? Did _they_ call you that?" How would they have even known about that? How could they have used that against her? Then he realized that it was the Capitol, and they'd use anything and everyone.

"No. It's just the first time you've called me that since I've been back." He looked into her nearly vacant blue eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat, because he was Haymitch Abernathy, and he didn't cry, damn it.

She was right, of course. He hadn't called her Princess since she'd been back. That was because he didn't know how to act around her. She'd come back so damned broken from that cell, and so damn angry that he had actually believed her when she said she never wanted see him again. Then she showed up, a year and a half later, needing comfort, but flinching at his touch.

She couldn't stand to be touched. It made no sense, because he hadn't not been able to touch her in ten years. He understood, though, because he wasn't a gentle being, and he was possessive, so he tended to snatch and pull instead of gently bringing her into him.

He didn't do comfort well, but she had come to _him_ , damn it, and he'd try for her, only he couldn't help her. She was no different than a terrified Tribute, expecting him to help her but in the end he wouldn't be able to. He never could.

The difference was he didn't give up. Not on her. Not when she'd never given up on him, not in over twenty years, so he'd keep trying, even when she pushed him away. She had insisted that they sleep in separate rooms, which was okay at first. He was privy to nightmares anyway, and he had enough blood on his hands and didn't want to add Effie Trinket to that list, thank you very much. But when the nightmares plagued her, and he would come to her room and comfort her, she'd always send him away after she'd calmed down.

Things were different for them now. They didn't know each other anymore.

Tonight had proven that. He'd woken up to the worst screams he'd heard from her to date. Fear had gripped his soul, and for the first time he felt the same fear he'd felt when he had found his mother, brother, and girl dead. He'd fled to her room to find her entangled in her sheets, struggling, and he knew what was wrong immediately. She was reliving those nights, trapped in that cell, and she was bloody terrified. He'd come in, gently calling her name, trying to keep his own emotions under control. She was _really_ tangled in there, and he wanted to use his knife but he knew it'd freak her out even more. By the time he de-tangled her she had thrown up all over herself.

Now they were in his bathroom, and he was trying to clean her off, yet they were discussing terms of endearment.

He wondered if she was trying to distract him.

But it was a question that needed to be answered. Did she still _want_ him to call her Princess?

The name had been used as a taunting mockery at first, and somewhere along the way it'd changed to affection.

"I'm going to take your clothes off now, Princess."

She took a shuddering breath, the smell of mouthwash hitting his nostrils. "Okay."

He lifted her dress again, this time removing it. It took everything in him not to scowl at the scars on her body. He'd already mentally prepared himself, but nothing could brace him for this. They'd destroyed her. The marks on her were fading, and healing, but they were still shocking. It made him want to throw up, and he audibly swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

Those bastards deserved everything he ended up doing to them.

He distracted himself by pulling down her underwear. She stepped out of them automatically.

"Will you join me?" she asked.

He stared at her. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes." She didn't hesitate.

He undressed and helped her into the bathtub, following behind her, the water boiling. He slid in after her, sitting opposite of her. She instantly submerged herself underneath the bubbles, presumably to hide her scars. He just looked at her until she finally spoke.

"I know I'm ugly now."

"Don't say that." He hadn't raised his voice, but his tone had her blinking rapidly. "Your scars don't make you ugly. Are Katniss and Peeta ugly? Am I?" Effie looked down and shook her head. "Your scars—our scars—make us _survivors_."

"I want to survive, Haymitch but… I don't know how."

"Maybe…." Haymitch paused, trying to think about how to say this as gently and tactically as possible. He couldn't think of a way so he just blurted it out. "Maybe you should see a head doctor. The one that helped Peeta worked wonders on him. If you don't want to go back to the Capitol I'll bring him out here. Just say the word."

"You think I'm mental?"

"We're all mental. I jus think you need an outlet."

"I don't need a shrink, Haymitch. I just need…." Her voice trailed and she blushed slightly. It was so much easier to see her emotions without the cake.

"What? What do you need? Tell me. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you. Just say the word. Let me help you." He hated the plea in his voice. "I don't know how the hell you did this for twenty years."

"Did what?"

"Watch someone you love slip further and further away."

Effie stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was staying. "It was torture," she finally admitted. "I hated seeing you like that. I hated knowing there was nothing I could do for you. I just wanted to comfort you, but I knew I couldn't. I didn't know how. I'd never wish that kind of pain on anyone." He just looked at her. "Is that how I make you feel?" Haymitch didn't answer. "I can't tell you how many times I wanted to tell you it was all going to be okay, even in knowing that it never would."

"It's gonna be okay now, though, Effie." She stared at him. "You can hate the world if you want, but it'll just consume you. I'm living proof of that. I don't wanna hate anymore."

"Me either."

"Then c'mere, Princess." And there that plea was again, but he ignored it as he slowly stretched out his hand. She hesitated briefly before she gripped it and moved towards him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her as she settled in between his legs, her back against his chest. "We can't let it get to us. Not anymore. Not the pain, the hurt, the anger, the hate, the sadness. None of it. It's not our fault, but it's especially not yours. It's the way the stars were aligned. It was our destiny. Sometimes bad shit happens, okay? Even to good, innocent people like you. The innocent ones like Peeta. Maybe the fault lies in the stars, or in fate, or in a God who's forsaken His people. Who knows? What I do know is this: your scars?" He skimmed a few on her shoulder blade, and then kissed a few on the top of her shoulder. "Your scars aren't at fault. Don't hate the scars, Princess."

She sighed and leaned against him. "Okay."

She'd never known he knew things like Shakespeare and tragedies. Maybe was right. Maybe it was the fault of their stars. This was the role they were supposed to play in this world, and it was a hard pill to swallow, but it was true.

She'd make her way through this. She had to. No more hating. No more blaming. Not herself, at least. And one day maybe she could stop blaming the stars. And she would definitely stop faulting her scars.

The scars made her a survivor.


	172. The Very Best of Us

" _I realise you are probably getting quite a few requests, but could you do more Effie-Peeta interaction? They always seem to get over looked in favour of Haymitch-Katniss or even Haymitch-Peeta. Maybe have them discuss 'their Seam' girl/boy. idk._

 _Thanks for sharing this; a great read!" Itsmegetoverit asked for this, and I thought 'hmmm….' LOL this is what I came up with._

 **THE VERY BEST OF US**

 **Rated K**

Peeta limped up to Effie, two glasses of lemonade in his hand. He handed her one and she accepted it with a smile and a soft thank you.

"Don't mention it," Peeta said, sitting down on the window seat. They sat adjacent to each other, their bodies angled so that they could look outside and see their children out of the front bay window. They could see Katniss, Willow, and Haymitch showing Ash how to clean a snare.

"I can't believe how good Willow is," said Effie fondly. "Or maybe I can. I do know how good her mother is." Peeta grinned. "But she's only been hunting a year or so. She's caught on quite quickly."

"So did Ash," Peeta said. "Remember how angry Willow was at how quickly he picked up on hunting?"

Effie laughed. "She doesn't like being outshined," grinned Effie. "Much like her mother."

"Yah, she's a lot like Katniss."

"In some ways," Effie said, glancing at Peeta. "She has a lot of you in her too."

"Yah. That's why she's gonna fall in love with Ash."

Effie nodded. "It's inevitable."

Peeta paused for a few moments. "Do you think it's disaster in the making?"

Effie stared at her son, who was currently being told something by Willow. They were just friends for now, their age still too young, their minds too innocent, to pick up on what would no doubt be their fate.

"No." Effie didn't hesitate as she stared at Peeta. "Willow, though like her mother in looks, is much more your child in spirit. And Ash… Ash is a fierce combination between Haymitch and Katniss. Willow doesn't stand a chance."

"But neither does Ash," pointed out Peeta.

"Not at all."

"Because there's ton of you in him."

"I forge that sometimes," Effie said quietly. "He started out as a momma's boy, but he hadn't known Haymitch then. He knows him now. Ash and Haymitch are so much alike it's scary. They can have silent conversations with each other without even speaking." She looked at Peeta. "Ash and Willow can do the same thing."

"But Ash is much kinder than Haymitch. He's gentler. He's unafraid to love. He doesn't look at love as a weakness. He gets that from you."

"And Willow isn't as hard as Katniss. She loves to paint and play the piano. And she can dress the hell out a Barbie doll." Peeta laughed. "Willow also has that innate ability to sense how someone is feeling. Much like someone else I know. They'll be good for each other. Much more like you and Katniss as opposed to me and Haymitch."

Peeta looked out the window, noticing the way the four of them just… _got_ each other. Though Willow was his child, she worshipped the ground Haymitch walked on. She called him Granpy like it was the most natural thing in the world—and he guessed it was.

But Willow adored Effie, too. She liked Effie's look. The hair, the light makeup, the dresses, the nails, the lipstick. She _hated_ the whole manners things, but they'd all lost count of how many times they'd caught Willow playing in Effie's clothes and heels.

"There's an age difference," Peeta said after awhile.

"Not by much. Six years isn't so terrible when she's of age. I already know how it'll happen: he'll come home one day—because let's face it, he's way too brilliant to stay in 12—and he'll see her, and one day it will sort of click into place. Here's this girl who's always been something like a best friend, but really more like a sister."

"Only she's now all grown up, and quite pretty," agreed Peeta.

"It'll catch him off guard, and he'll deny it, because he's Haymitch Abernathy's son." Peeta chuckled. "But he'll come around. Mark my words. By the time she's twenty-one or twenty-two, she'll be Mrs. Willow Abernathy."

Peeta frowned. "I don't know how I feel about my daughter already being married." Effie laughed and watched as Ash helped Willow. It seemed like second nature.

"You think those two know?" asked Peeta, jerking his head towards Haymitch and Katniss.

"Oh please. They won't accept it until the kid's wedding day."

Peeta looked at her. "What about Ava and Rye? Are they destined to be together too?" Effie looked out of the window at the very pregnant Katniss. She'd pop any day now.

"I don't think so," sighed Effie. "She's older, anyway. Those two will be real, true friends. Like Finnick and Jo."

Peeta paused. "Jo was in love with Finnick."

"Yes, she was. But Ava will be okay. She'll find the man she's supposed to." Effie looked at Peeta. "Rye will probably marry Gale's daughter." Peeta rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fate has a way of… fixing things."

"What, you mean because my dad and Katniss' mom…." Peeta's voice trailed off and he frowned. "Gale is just a male Katniss. Do you think his daughter will be a miniature Katniss?"

"Only time will tell."

"So where does that leave Ava? With Finn?"

Effie laughed, shaking her head. "No. Ava will probably marry a man from the Capitol, to spite Haymitch and me, because that's what I did to my parents."

Peeta laughed too. "Oh please. If she marries a man from the Capitol, it's because he treated her like a queen, and because Haymitch would demand nothing less. She's his first girl. I'm not sure any man from 12 will be good enough for her." He paused, frowning at that thought. "Then again, her father is from 12. She might get a man from the Seam."

"And she certainly adores Haymitch," sighed Effie. "A true Daddy's Girl."

"So who's Ember going to get with?"

"Probably one of Gale's sons, because Hazelle _still_ wants Haymitch to this day." Peeta laughed. "Or she'll be the one to marry a man from the Seam. She's definitely _my_ daughter."

"That she is," agreed Peeta with a smile. "Whatever happens… they'll be good. Though they have traits of Haymitch and Katniss, and those two are hard to love, they also have pieces of us."

"More than that," Effie said, standing. "They have our best traits."

At that moment the door swung open, and Ash ran to Effie, his arms outstretched. Effie hugged him, a smile on her face. He was an exact replica of Haymitch, save for his eyes—he had his mother's eyes—but he definitely had his mother's traits.

It was opposite with Willow, who was giggling with Peeta, whom she adored. Even though she _looked_ like Katniss, she shared her father's personality. Their children were their parents, but ten times better.

They seemed to have gotten the very best of them.


	173. This Woman's Work

_A Guest prompted this, and I thought I'd add it to this fic: "_ _Hi! I especially love this chapter! I think one possible prompt is where Haymitch asks for Effie's forgiveness because in all the fanfiction I've read I've rarely seen Haymitch blatantly ask for forgiveness rather it's implied. Maybe it'd be too hard to depict since I'm sure he'd be so torn up because of the torture Effie went through but anyway love your writing keep it up :)"_ _Song-fic for Maxwell's version of This Woman's Work. DISCLAIMER: THE NEXT SEVERAL PROMPTS ARE SON FICS THAT I WROTE MONTHS AGO. I'M STILL NOT IN THE MOOD TO WRITE THEM, SO PLEASE DON'T ASK LOL._

 _More prompts please!_

 **THIS WOMAN'S WORK**

 **Rated T**

 _Pray God you can cope_

 _I'll stand outside_

 _This woman's worth_

 _This woman's world_

 _Oh it's hard on a man_

 _Now his part is over_

 _Now starts the craft of the Father_

He went outside, once, when he was close to having his first breakdown in twenty-five years. He was surprised that he'd lasted this long. When he'd opened the cell, the last person he'd ever expected to see was Effie Trinket.

Haymitch had gotten her out of the cell and into a Rebel hospital and hadn't left her side until the he couldn't stand being in her presence.

He'd never been much of praying man, but he had to call on something higher than himself to get through this.

He drank until he was drunk enough to ask her for forgiveness.

 _I know you've got a little life in you left_

 _I know you've got a lotta strength left_

 _I know you've got a little life in you left_

 _I know you've got a lotta strength left_

 _I should be cryin' but I just can't let it show_

 _I should be hopin' but I can't stop thinkin'_

 _All the things we should've said that are never said_

 _All the things we should've done that we never did_

 _All the things we should've given, but I didn't_

 _Oh darlin', make it go_

 _Make it go away_

Haymitch and Plutarch begged her— _pleaded_ with her—to keep living. He'd never begged a day in his life, aside from the desire to never wake up. He'd certainly never begged for another individual to live before.

She _was_ life, though, despite being the Angel of Death. She was strong, stronger than this, stronger than the hospital room, stronger than that cell.

He thought of all the times he could have told her that he loved her.

He wanted to hope, but he couldn't stop thinking.

He should have given more of himself, and now it might be too late.

 _Give me these moments_

 _Give them back to me_

 _Give me your little kiss_

 _Give me your..._

He wanted to take it all back: every memory, every moment, every kiss….

They all just kept replaying over and over in his mind.

Their first time: rough, brutal, heartless. Shame. Embarrassment. Release. Pleasure. Unbelievable pleasure. Their desire to do it again making their stomachs churn. The relief when they succumbed to said desire.

And their last time, still rough and brutal, but it wasn't heartless. It was so much more, and had been for years.

Why hadn't he ever _told_ her?

Why couldn't he make the memories go away?

He'd give them all back if she ever woke up.

 _(I know you've got a little life in you left)_

 _Give me your hand baby_

 _(I know you've got a lotta strength)_

 _Give me your pretty hand_

 _(I know you've got a little life in you left)_

 _Ooo show me you understand_

 _(I know you've got a lotta strength left)_

 _Your lovechild_

 _(I know you've got a little life in you left)_

 _Whatever you need baby_

 _(I know you've got a lotta strength left)_

 _Give me your hand_

 _(I know you've got a little life in you left)_

 _Give me your love_

 _(I know you've got a lotta strength left)_

He believed in her life and strength. In twenty years she'd never given up, and she couldn't start now.

He just wanted her to know what a fool he'd been. That he'd give her whatever she needed now… now that it was probably too late.

He needed her. She was all the life and strength he had left. She had to be okay.

Drinking didn't help. In the middle of the night he kept whispering to her, saying he was sorry. He kept asking her for forgiveness.

He waited for her to squeeze his hand to show she understood.

 _I should be cryin' but I just can't let it show baby_

 _I should be hopin' but I can't stop thinkin_

 _All the things we should've said that we never said_

 _All the things we should've done that we never did_

 _All the things that you wanted from me_

 _All the things that you needed from me_

 _All the things we should've given, but I didn't_

 _Oh darlin', make it go away now,_

 _Just make it go_ away.

He'd probably cry if he let himself. He could hope if he wasn't so afraid of the disappointment it might bring.

He should have told her that he didn't resent her, that he understood her more than he had ever let on. She'd never asked him for anything, but she had wanted to. She had wanted more, and he could have given more, if he hadn't been so damn selfish.

He wanted the pain to go away. It was his fault.

He prayed to a God he didn't necessarily believe in to take it away.

Make it go away.


	174. Half Past Five

" _Hayffie first time(s) pre-mj, pleasseeeeee i love your stories" –Guest. I wrote this before the prompt, but it works._ _This one is inspired by The Weeknd's The Hills. Not a song fic but an inspirtation. IDK y but I. LOVE. THIS. STORY._

 **HALF PAST FIVE**

 **Rated M**

 _I only call you when it's half past five_

 _The only time that I'll be by your side_

 _I only love it when you touch me, not feel me_

 _When I'm fucked up, that's the real me_

 _When I'm fucked up, that's the real me, yeah_

 _I only fuck you when it's half past five_

The phone ringing woke her up out of her slumber. She sat up, gasping, and immediately started feeling around for her phone. When she found it she immediately answered.

"Haymitch?" whispered Effie.

She could hear her grandfather clock chiming in the background, alerting her to what time it was, but she didn't need its announcement.

She knew what time it was.

It was the _only_ time he called.

The first time he did this was during the 61st Hunger Games. The year before had changed them, somewhat. It was something about seeing his Games that made her a little bit more understanding and tolerant. Watching his Games had destroyed her, and seeing them replayed had broken him.

She thought he'd die from alcohol poisoning that year, and then he nearly did die, attempting to walk home in the middle of the night after leaving the bar. Peacekeepers had found him in a random alley, two days later.

She'd been furious, and entirely too relieved that he was all right, and she'd called a doctor she'd once dated who owed her a favor to nurse him back to health. When the doctor left she handed Haymitch a small scrap of paper and told her to just call her next time.

"Why?" he had snarled.

"Because you're my Mentor, and I'm your Escort. In my mind that makes us a team."

He was gone, the next morning, on his way back to 12, because he never stayed until the end, even though he was supposed to. He couldn't be controlled, though. They'd already killed everybody he'd loved.

She hadn't even known he'd kept the number, but when her phone rang a year later at five thirty in the morning she feared the worst.

It took him several minutes to talk, and when he finally did, he just slurred out, "Never mind," and hung up.

She'd nearly wept with relief when he showed up at the Penthouse with Chaf, thirty minutes later.

It took him another four years to call her again. She wasn't sure what it was about the 65th Hunger Games that had made him lose it. They'd been fortunate that year. Their Tributes had been killed long before that trident was sent to Finnick.

She'd talked to the bartender and told him to catch Haymitch a cab for the Penthouse, and that he could bill her. He'd thanked her that night, and she'd actually been touched, until she realized he didn't even remember the next morning.

He'd called her every single year after that, though, and she always answered.

And then the 70th Hunger Games happened.

He'd called her, at the same time he called her every year, and he was so drunk he couldn't even speak. The bartender must have taken pity on him and grabbed the phone. She was surprised, because he'd never been at this bar before, and she found that he was close to her house.

It was strange, the way fate stepped in sometimes, because she just so happened to be at home that night instead of in the Penthouse. She gave the bartender her address, and then she called downstairs and told Garric that she was expecting a visitor and to let him up.

Fifteen minutes later Garric was knocking on her door, supporting a very drunk Haymitch. She gave Garric a nice tip, plus what she owed the cab, and then she did what she did best: took care of her Mentor.

The next morning he walked into her kitchen, his hair disheveled, his suit a wrinkled mess. She was at the table, sipping coffee, still in her nightdress, a silk robe draped over her body. He'd stopped and stared at her, his Rebel eyes taking in everything about her appearance: Porcelain skin, sky blue eyes, and dark, luscious red hair.

"Good morning, Haymitch." Her voice was soft, her face neutral, but after a few more moments of silence his gaze started to make her uncomfortable, so she cleared her throat and stood up, turning around to pour him a cup of coffee. She reached up to her cupboard and grabbed a bottle of dark liquor and poured some into his cup. Then she turned around and handed it to him.

He took it and took a gentle sip, his eyes still never leaving her face. She leaned back against her counter.

"You've never let me see you like this," he finally said.

She gave him a gentle smile. "Well I've certainly seen you at your worst. Maybe it's time I let you see me at mine."

He took another sip of his spiked coffee, still looking at her. "I'm probably still drunk." She arched an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm most likely still drunk. So I'm gonna blame it on the drink and just say it." She braced herself. "You're not showing me your worst, Princess. This is definitely your best. Trust me."

She didn't have on her makeup to hide her blush, so she turned around again. "Are you hungry?"

"Did we fuck last night?"

She froze and then spun around. " _What_?"

"I'm sorry. Was I supposed to remember? It's all hazy."

"I am _not_ so desperate that I'd _ever_ sleep with a drunk who's never been nice to me."

He frowned at her. "Well that's a relief. Because I've never been so drunk that I actually fucked a Capitol. Even _I_ can't stoop that low." Effie stared at him and then turned back around. "Great. Now you're mad at me. What else is new?"

"Your entire existence is an insult to the living, Haymitch."

He snorted. "I'll drink to that."

"Are you hungry or not?" snapped out Effie.

"Why are you bein' so nice to me?"

She spun around again, a scowl on her face. "It's _rude_ not to offer your guest breakfast, even if said guest is nothing more than an insufferable drunk."

"Are you sure we didn't sleep together last night?"

" _Yes_ ," Effie hissed. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because you're being nice to me, you took me home last night, and now you're offering to make me breakfast. It sounds like I probably gave you the ride of your life if you're goin' through all this."

Effie closed her eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Haymitch. With how much you had to drink last night, you most likely had whiskey dick anyway. You probably have whiskey dick for life."

His mouth sprung open. He'd never heard her talk like that, and with the fact that he'd never seen her look like that, he couldn't decide if he was turned on or not.

"The reason you were at my place is because the bar you went to last night was closer to here than the Penthouse. And it just so happened that I stayed here tonight instead of the Penthouse. And lastly I'm offering you breakfast because you need to soak up that alcohol floating around in your stomach and honestly, I'm a _nice person_ Haymitch. I'd offer anybody who walked through my front door something to eat or drink. _Clearly_ you have the drinking part down. Now I wish you would stop being so crass and just answer the bloody question: do you want something to eat or not?"

"Yah," he sighed after her outburst finally sank in.

"Good. I've laid out some clothes for you. You can shower and change in my room."

"Hey, I appreciate the hospitality and all, but I am _not_ wearing one of your dresses."

Effie rolled her eyes. "They're men clothes, Haymitch, honestly."

Haymitch stiffened and looked around. "Don't look like no man lives here with you."

"He doesn't."

Haymitch frowned, though he wasn't sure why. "I didn't know you were seein' anyone."

"Why would you know? What have you ever asked me?"

"He doesn't mind that I always call you?"

"I don't too much care if he does or doesn't. You're my Mentor. It's my job to take care of you."

Haymitch kept his mouth closed for a few minutes. "Yah. You do that better than anyone, Princess. You really should be promoted."

He thought that he was complimenting her, but those words stung like nothing else. She blinked back the tears pricking her eyes and started making French toast, because she knew he liked it.

When he came back out he was showered and dressed, and she had to work extra hard to keep her blush at bay. He could be so damn sexy sometimes, even without trying to.

"Hurry and eat," Effie said without looking at him. "Your cab will be here shortly. I'll meet you at the Penthouse later."

"Why later?"

"Because it isn't _proper_ to be seen leaving my house with you."

"Right, like you have a reputation to protect," snorted Haymitch.

Now she looked at him, her eyes slits. "You know absolutely _nothing_ about my reputation," Effie snapped. "If my reputation is tarnished it is _not_ because of any wrongdoing of anybody other than _you_."

Haymitch blinked at her. "It's way too early for your attitude. I haven't had enough to drink."

"When have you ever?"

Haymitch slammed his fork down. "Okay _what_ is your problem?"

"You're my problem, Haymitch. You've _always_ been my problem. I take your insults and assumptions every year, but I won't do so in my own house."

Haymitch stood up. "Then maybe I should just leave."

"I do think that'll be best."

"Fine. But don't you think it's kinda rude to invite someone over and then kick them out?"

"What else was I supposed to do? Let you fend for yourself so you can black out in some alley again? Be brought back to the Penthouse by Peacekeepers?"

"Wow, Trinket, for a minute there it sounded like you cared."

She slapped him hard enough for there to be an imprint on his cheek. "Damn you Haymitch, I _do_ care!"

His eyes glowed dark ash as he approached her. He snarled and backed her into the wall. "Don't you ever fucking touch me again."

She liked testing his patience, so he grabbed her hands, roughly, when she slapped him again. He held her hands above her head as she tried to wrestle loose, and they both struggled before his strength won out.

The short battle had left her breathless, her face contorted with rage, her chest heaving.

They stared at each other for several moments, before something surrounding them seemed to change. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw that she was really quite beautiful when she was angry.

He didn't notice that he was too close until it was too late. When he felt his pants tighten he realized he was in trouble. He hadn't felt lust—real, true lust—in _years_ , and he was feeling it now, at the hands of his bloody Escort.

Was he _mental_?

Apparently, and so was she, because her eyes darted to his lips, and that's all it took, really. His mouth covered hers, and he wasn't asking for permission, but she wasn't telling him no, so it didn't really matter. His lips were on her neck and he picked her up, more turned on than ever when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

There wasn't much about Haymitch Abernathy that was gentle, especially because he was a Victor, and that rang true now, as he ferociously pounded into her. She'd never experienced anything like this, and it was incredible, glorious, amazing, wonderful, absolutely wonderful, and why the hell was it so easy for her to moan out his name? It's like she'd been waiting for this, like she'd been waiting for _him_. She came, in what felt like seconds, but it couldn't have been, could it? Because it normally took her _forever_ to orgasm with men from the Capitol, and here this District _drunk_ comes along and rocks her world in all of three seconds, and she wants more, damn it.

Haymitch buried his face in her neck, blind with lust, which was a fucking slap in the face, because he had _just_ told her he didn't do Capitol bitches, but damn it, it wasn't his fault she didn't look so Capitol anymore. She clenched around him and he nearly lost it, because it'd been so long since a woman had done that because of him, and it was shocking that he could still have that affect on a person.

The noises she was making made him dizzy, and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized that he was probably making noises too. She just felt so… _good_ , and he gripped her the same way he gripped a bottle or a good glass of whiskey.

But he didn't _like_ her, he assured himself, even as he watched her, shocked at how beautiful she was. He was just horny, because it'd been years, more years than he could count, since he last did this.

So _why_ her name fell off his lips so readily was beyond him, but it was the only thing he could think of when he spilled himself into her.

She was the first woman he'd thought about other than his dead girl and his mother.

It had been too good for their deed to just dawn upon them immediately. It took a few moments of catching their breath and their brains reforming inside their heads.

She broke first, surprisingly. She stiffened, her breath short, and he immediately let her go.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"No one has to know," said Haymitch, and fuck it to hell and back if his hands weren't shaking as he zipped up his pants. "You don't gotta tell your boyfriend or nothin'."

"I don't have a boyfriend," Effie said warily. "You're wearing my brother's clothes. I don't have a boyfriend. If I did this wouldn't have…." She stumbled away from the wall, opening her cupboards without really seeing them. She passed the liquor cabinet and had to backtrack, where she screwed off the top from her best white liquor and poured herself a glass, her hands shaking.

"You've been holding out," said Haymitch accusingly, and she shot steel blue eyes in his direction. "On the liquor, I mean," he finished quickly. Effie gritted her teeth and drank the contents in her glass. "Listen, Effie. That was… it was…." His voice trailed as he searched for the right word. Amazing kept coming to mind. Incredible. Fantastic.

"A mistake, Haymitch. It was a mistake, and it'll never happen again." Her voice was firm, and ice, and he didn't know why that hurt, just a little. He didn't know he _could_ hurt.

"Of course not," snarled Haymitch.

"You should go. And don't you dare tell _anyone_. Ever."

He had a retort ready when he saw her pour another glass, her hands still shaking. "You weren't… I mean you've…" She'd been tight, he realized. Tighter than ever, and he felt his stomach swoop. "You weren't a virgin, right?"

She laughed, and it sent chills down his spine. She was terrifying, he realized. "First I'm a slut, now I might be a virgin. Which is it?"

"You tell me. You're acting like…." How was she acting? He didn't know. She was confusing. "It was just sex, Trinket."

"I _know_ what it was. I've never had sex a day in my life." He swayed. "I've been with men who I've _loved_ because despite what you think about Capitol citizens, some of us still have morals. We care about people, about humans. I don't much appreciate being used, Haymitch."

He stilled, and now he finally understood. She probably _wasn't_ used to being used.

"Effie—"

"Just _go_ , Haymitch. I'll see you at the Penthouse."

He'd left, but it wasn't their last time. It happened again, that very night, when he called her again, and at least they'd made it to the bedroom. She just wanted to know if he could make her feel like that again, because the first time had been so quick, and she'd been thinking about it all day, and she knew it was a bad idea, but he'd seemed just as eager as she had, so she climbed on top of him and willingly gave herself to him.

When she woke up the next morning he was gone.

They never discussed it. What was there to discuss? Any leverage she had was gone the minute she'd told him it could never happen again, but then turned around and invited him into her bedroom.

It went on for years. Consistently. Like clockwork.

It'd start with a phone call, at five thirty in the morning.

It's the only time he'd ever really talk to her. The only time she could ever touch him. The only time he ever fucked her.

And it _was_ fucking, at least on his end.

It'd been much more to her for a long time.

But she'd gotten used to being used.

Tonight, she knew, would be no different.

All this ran through her head as she waited for him to respond. It always took a while, and she knew it was him, because when a bartender called he always spoke immediately. Haymitch had to get his thoughts together, remember how to coherently form words that made sense.

"Princess," he finally answered, and she gripped the phone tighter.

"Where are you?"

"Outside your door." Her breath hitched and she dropped the phone, scrambling out of bed. She ran towards her front door and opened it. He stumbled inside and she closed and locked the door behind her.

"Are you all right?"

"You're always so fucking concerned about me," he slurred. He was all over her in seconds, and she couldn't say she minded.

"Of course I am," whispered Effie, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Don't be," he growled. He pushed her against the wall, lifting her nightdress as she fumbled with his belt. "You should be worried about the girl." He sucked on her neck and she moaned softly. "I can't believe they almost ate those fucking berries." His laugh was humorous and cold.

He pushed himself into her in a move that had been practiced and perfected over the years.

"Do you know what this means?" His breath was hot on her ear, making her shiver. She couldn't answer. She could only groan. "It means we're gonna go to war."

"It means no more names to pick." He moaned at that, and gripped her tighter. Because even though what they did was toxic, you can't screw somebody religiously without getting to know them, at least a little. If there was anybody who knew her now, it was Haymitch. He knew how she felt about it. How she hated herself.

"It means we get to Rebel," he whispered throatily.

"It means you get to love me," whispered Effie.

"I already do, Princess." It made her cum, and it'd have been touching, if he'd meant it. And he might have. But in the morning, he wouldn't remember his admission.

He never did.

He had no clue that he gave his real self to her, but only when he was fucked up.

She thought she was dreaming when she woke up and he was still in her bed. Not just in her bed, too passed out to move—he'd never done that. No matter how drunk he was, after they were done, he either called a cab back to the Penthouse or he'd crash on the couch.

He'd never slept next to her, and he'd certainly never woken her up by peppering her with kisses.

Haymitch wasn't gentle. She didn't know this man, with the clear eyes. Her breath hitched in her throat and she welcomed him with open arms, and open legs. He took her time with her, making her sigh, gasp, moan, groan, and cry out. He thought he might lose it this time, and do something stupid like profess his love to her completely sober. She thought he was drunk every time he'd said it, but he wasn't. Not always. But he was protecting her, even if she didn't know it, and even if she didn't want to be protected.

"Victory sex," he said smugly after they were finished. After her orgasm had left her body and entered his, and he'd whispered her name a million times until he was empty.

"Of course," breathed Effie, and he grinned at he ceiling. "And how long will we have Victors?"

"Oh, I'll make sure it'll be for a long time yet."

He could feel her looking at him, but didn't meet her eye. After a few moments she gripped his hand. It was intimate, and he nearly bolted away, but he didn't.

"Me too," she said. "We're a team, right?"

He surprised himself by squeezing her hand back. He had to be careful here. "Yah. We're a team."

She thought she could get used to _this_ Haymitch. She knew him, knew this man to his soul. He thought he only gave himself to her late at night, drunk out of his mind, but he was doing so now, in broad daylight. This future war was already changing him, changing them.

Effie glanced at the clock, her hand still in his. His thumb was caressing her knuckles, but she doubted he knew it.

She smiled at the time. It was eleven in the morning.

Certainly after five thirty.

Definitely way later than half past five.


	175. What Do You Mean

_Loving the songfics :) I'm not a Justin Beiber fan but every time the radio plays his new song "what do you mean?" all I can think of is Effie being confused by Haymitch's actions at the beginning of their relationship. Don't know if that would make an interesting story..." –Nkneeshaw. I felt some typa way allowing a Justin Beiber song to inspire Hayffie LOL. BUT I have to admit… I'm a bit of Belieber. His songs are just so darn catchy! I decided not to do a song-fic but an inspiration_.

 **WHAT DO YOU MEAN**

 **Rated M**

 _What do you mean? Oh, oh_

 _When you nod your head yes_

 _But you wanna say no_

 _What do you mean? Hey-ey_

 _When you don't want me to move_

 _But you tell me to go_

 _What do you mean?_

 _Oh, what do you mean?_

 _Said you're running out of time, what do you mean?_

 _Oh, oh, oh, what do you mean?_

 _Better make up your mind_

 _What do you mean?_

 _First you wanna go to the left then you wanna turn right_

 _Wanna argue all day, make love all night_

 _First you're up, then you're down and then between_

 _Oh, I really want to know…_

Effie had been caught red handed. It'd been the first time. Normally afterwards he was dead to the world, passed out from a mixture of drunkenness and exhaustion. She could usually stare at his features, even though she had them memorized by now, or she could run her fingers through his hair, which she was quite fond of, no matter how much she fussed about him needing a haircut.

Sometimes she could pepper him with kisses, and he'd sigh out her name, and she'd wonder if he cared for her just as much as she cared for him. It was so difficult to decipher what it is he meant half the time. Yes meant no, no meant maybe, maybe meant definitely.

She'd been feeling confused for quite some time. The first time they'd done this had been so shocking and confusing, yet somehow she'd made her way to his room for more. There was an unspoken agreement that they'd never talk about it. If it happened, okay, but they didn't mention it or schedule it or plan it or discuss it. They used to hold out until they couldn't take it anymore, and one of them would cave and they'd go at it.

How it went from that to staying in each other's beds was beyond her.

 _He'd_ slipped up first, about three years ago. He fell asleep in her bed, and the next morning she found herself wrapped around him. She'd tried to untangle herself from him without waking him, but that hadn't worked, and he'd woken up. Both of them were humiliated.

Yet after that it got a little more difficult to get up and walk away after they'd done the deed. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes he was even sober as he made his way to her room.

The sex was always brutal. Never tender. But that was okay, because she liked it rough, and it reminded her as to why she preferred Haymitch over the men from the Capitol.

What she didn't like was the way he acted around her when other people were around. The way he could be so cruel and rude and mocking. The way he could fight with her all day and then turn around and make love to her all night.

Literally all night.

Then one of them would fall asleep, and in the morning they'd still be together.

She'd taken to staring at him, learning his face, or the rest of his body, if she got his clothes off. Most of the time he just lifted her dress and she pulled down his pants. They rarely saw each other naked, but occasionally they undressed each other, during moments of weakness where they revealed their true selves, their true feelings.

It'd been happening a lot more, lately.

He kept saying they were running out of time, yet their lovemaking slowed down.

It confused her, just like this feeling in the pit of her stomach about this upcoming Quarter Quell. Haymitch kept telling her they had to be careful, and here she was, falling even harder for him.

She froze as his eyes flickered open, her hand still brushing his hair out of her face.

He'd never caught her before.

He wasn't supposed to catch her.

Things could go one of two ways now. He could kick her out and insult her, or he could shut her away and never let her back in again.

He reached up and removed her hand.

"Do you want me to leave?" she whispered.

"I should definitely want you to leave," said Haymitch, and her heart sunk.

She tried to hide her confusion as he rolled her over, his lips hot on her neck as he rolled on top of her, already harder than steel. She dug her nails into his back, moaning as the pleasure overtook her. His lips and hands were all over, and that was rare enough in itself.

They weren't actually intimate all the time, so touching and kissing was normally out, though they had a few slip ups now and then. This, however, seemed deliberate, and even more confusing, but the pleasure was too overwhelming to keep thinking about it.

When his lips found her breasts she gasped, her back arching.

"Will you stop being a tease?" scolded Effie, and Haymitch snorted.

"What do you want, Princess?"

"You, inside me. _Now_."

He chuckled. "Always so fucking bossy."

"You _like_ me bossy."

He pushed into her and she locked her legs around him, the move practiced. He stilled for a few moments, still teasing her.

"Haymitch," she pleaded, trying to move, but he was weighing her down.

He kissed her neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and then slowly started moving, just as he said, "It's a lot more than like, Princess."

He'd done that on purpose, she decided. To make such a statement, only to start moving, meant he was trying to tell her something, but didn't want to talk about it. She arched her back and came, without even meaning to, and moaned out his name.

He sped up, and her orgasm started to build again. It never took long.

He kissed her, deeply, something else he rarely did, and as another orgasm overtook her she found herself wondering for the umpteenth time what the hell he meant by it all.


	176. Poison And Wine

" _This may have already been suggested but I automatically think of Hayffie when I hear the song Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars. Not much of prompt I know, but you write exceptional one shots. If it inspires you then I can't wait to read it :)" –Lady Blackwolf. Never heard of this song a day in my life. I hope I did it justice, Blackwolf._

 **POISON AND WINE**

 **Rated T**

 _You only know what I want you to_

 _I know everything you don't want me to_

 _Your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine_

 _You think your dreams are the same as mine_

They probably had the most complicated relationship in history.

The Mentor and the Escort

She knew him, but she didn't _know_. She knew what he wanted her to know, even as he gave her his soul.

She did have one up on him.

She was poison, but she was also wine.

Addicted to her, he was, and he couldn't stop, even when he wanted to.

She was convinced they were alike, and he blamed himself for letting her think they had the same goals and visions.

They didn't.

When it all came tumbling down, they'd be on opposite sides.

Wouldn't they?

 _Ooh, I don't love you but I always will_

 _Ooh, I don't love you but I always will_

 _I don't love you but I always will_

 _I always will_

Fuck it to hell if he didn't want to take her with him.

Maybe it was he who didn't know her. Maybe she'd hoodwinked him.

Maybe he'd just been too blind to see.

She was one of them. She stood with the Mockingjay, with the Rebellion.

She stood with _him_.

He'd be a liar if he didn't realize that complicated shit.

 _A lot_.

He debated with himself if he loved her or not. He couldn't decide if he did or didn't.

He couldn't think about it, but he always did.

He couldn't love her but he already did.

He always would.

 _I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back_

 _The less I give, the more I get back_

 _Ooh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise_

 _I don't have a choice but I still choose you_

He pushed her away during the Quell.

He _had_ to, even as he wanted her to pull him closer.

When she did push back, he tried to give less, only she ended up giving him more.

Her hands healed him, even as his bruised hers. It was rough, rough, rough, because tenderness wouldn't win the war.

He left his mark on her, even as he planned to disappear.

He had absolutely no choice in the matter. He'd choose her, if he could, but Plutarch had told him Coin would never allow it, so he left her when the arena blew up.

 _Ooh, I don't love you but I always will_

 _Ooh, I don't love you but I always will_

 _I don't love you but I always will_

 _Ooh, I don't love you but I always will_

Poison in his wine, she was, because when it was all said and done, and he'd saw her name on that list to be executed, he'd pushed the fear away and rescued her. He fought for her, even as he wanted to kill himself.

He drank whatever he could find as the guilt consumed him. She didn't come back to 12 with him, and that was that. He deserved the slammed door.

He stepped aside a year later when she knocked on his door, because he was addicted to her.

He swore he didn't love her.

But he always did.

 _I don't love you but I always will_

 _I don't love you but I always will_

 _I don't love you but I always will_

 _I always will, I always will, I always will_

 _I always will, I always will_


	177. A Long Year

_AHHHHH SO I'M GOING TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER THIS WEEKEND FOR A LATE BDAY WKND! I CAN'T EVEN_ _ **BEGIN**_ _TO TELL YALL HOW EXCITED I AM! I've been trying to get here for YEARS and it's finally happening! So since you all loved the HG/HP crossover, and in honor of my trip, I thought I'd post a new one-shot._

 _So this HP/HG universe is SO amazing. I did want to state that not all the stories will be related. The original three-part series I did is its own Universe—none of those stories will be related to the future ones. It's important for me to stress that. Aside from that, there are two Universes I'll use: one where they're Hogwarts students, and one where they're Hogwarts teachers. THESE TWO UNIVERSES AREN'T RELATED EITHER. For the Universe where they're students, I've made them the same age_.

 _I put Hayffie in the same class as Lucius Malfoy, which means they would have graduated the year before James and Lily attended the school. I did that because the Victors are the modern day Marauders to me, and there can't be two sets of Marauders! I hope you enjoy this Universe. Haymitch is milder because uhhh he's younger, the war hasn't happened yet, and there are no Games LOL. Let me know what ya'll think and if you like this Universe._

 **A LONG YEAR**

 **Rated K+ (the plus is for one curse word)**

Effie walked briskly towards Platform 9 ¾, her heels echoing in King's Cross Station, her belongings on a trolley in front of her. She made her way through the platform and smiled when she saw the scarlet train.

She was _home_.

A familiar warmth spread its way through her veins as she approached the train, and using a hovering charm, she made her way onto the train, her things following behind her. Pinning her Head Girl badge on her shirt she made her way to her designated compartment and started putting her things up.

"Here, let me help," stated a familiar voice.

Effie turned around and smiled at Lucius Malfoy as he lifted up her trunk and placed it on the rack above her. "Thank you, Lucius."

"Anything for my favorite heartbreak," Lucius grinned. Effie blushed. "I see you made Head Girl. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Effie beamed.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Lucius cleared his throat. "I should go find my compartment. I'll se you around."

Effie nodded and waved goodbye, and then she started putting up the rest of her things. She was so into it that she didn't hear the compartment door slide back open.

"I should have known it'd be you," stated a familiar drawl, and Effie froze for a few seconds before spinning around. He gave her his signature smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hello, Princess."

She was rendered speechless for a moment. Haymitch Abernathy had always been attractive, in that dark, dangerous, and mysterious kind of way. He had long, curly hair that he refused to cut and bright grey eyes that could both put the fear of Merlin in a person and make women weak in the knees.

Effie had been a victim of both over the past seven years, but _he_ didn't need to know that.

Though he'd probably know it now at the way she was staring at him. The summer had treated him well, at least on the outside. His hair was curlier than she remembered, and he'd filled out quite nicely – his arms were stronger, and he'd grown several inches.

The main difference was that his eyes had dimmed.

"Wow," Effie finally stated. "I wasn't sure if you'd actually show up this year." Haymitch stood still. "I'm sorry about—"

" _Don't_ mention Nova. Not now. Not ever. Got it?" Effie blinked at his harsh tone. "I don't need your _pity_."

"I do not pity you, Haymitch, I—"

"Just shut up about it, alright? I don't wanna talk about it, especially with someone as shallow and superficial as you."

"You, Sir, are rude beyond measure, and I don't take too kindly to you using that tone with me. If you could so kindly leave my compartment now."

" _Your_ compartment?" snarled Haymitch. "Don't see your name on it nowhere."

"I am Head Girl—"

"And I am Head Boy," Haymitch snapped back.

Effie gaped, her eyes traveling down to the shiny maroon and gold Head Boy badge on his very broad chest – not that she was looking at his chest. For someone who prided herself on the little details, she had definitely missed that badge.

"Impossible," whispered Effie. "You weren't even ever a Prefect."

"Not a pre-requisite."

"And the Head Boy and Head Girl are supposed to be from the same House."

"Not always."

"And the Head Boy and Head Girl are intelligent, hard-working, diligent, and honest and—"

"You sound like the damn brochure," waved away Haymitch, finally stepping all the way inside and bringing his trunk along with him. "Regardless of how you feel about it, I'm your better half."

"Do _not_ be absurd. You don't even _study_. I have _never_ seen you in the library the entire seven years we have been in school together."

He arched an eyebrow and grinned. "Been checkin' for me, have you?"

"Not even in your dizziest daydreams," deadpanned Effie.

"More like my worst nightmare."

"I absolutely refuse to believe that you are Head Boy. Who did you take that from?"

"Do you _think_ I wanna be Head Boy? I have enough shit on my plate than to have to worry about this."

" _Language_ , Haymitch."

He sighed. "This year will go much easier if you remember two things, Princess: don't ever talk about my past, and you're not the boss of me. You remember that, we'll get along just fine."

Effie made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "I have spent seven years in your God- _awful_ presence. We have classes together, for _some_ reason Professors tend to pair us up together, on top of that some of our friends have actually dated so unfortunately I happen to know you exist…. Trust me when I say we will _not_ get along. You hate me, and I hate you, and Headmaster Dumbledore is probably in his office having himself a good laugh. I am _sure_ there is something _you_ did to warrant having to work with me as a punishment, but I _know_ I have done _nothing_ to deserve such thing."

With that she sat down, crossed her arms across her chest, and didn't speak to him again for the rest of the train ride.

Haymitch hid a grin. She was quite pretty when she was annoyed, he realized, and that thought had his heart speeding up. He'd never really been attracted _per say_ to Effie Trinket. She was _hot_ , sure, but there was something… different about her. Maybe because she was all grown up now.

Her hair was shockingly blonde, and unlike any shade he'd ever seen. Her eyes were just as startling, bright blue that could brighten any dungeon at Hogwarts. Her lips were both pouty and luscious and she had all the right curves that made her figure _very_ bad in all the _good_ ways.

He pushed that all away as quickly as they came, shaking his head at his thoughts. This was _Effie Trinket_. She was loud, annoying, and a genuine pain in his ass, not to mention they were worlds apart in _everything imaginable_.

Though she'd been sorted into Ravenclaw he'd always figured she'd have been better off in Slytherin: Pureblood, self-serving, selfish, spoiled, and more money than Merlin himself.

They didn't like each other, and they certainly weren't _attracted_ to each other.

When her brows furrowed and she bit her bottom lip, he realized it was going to be a long, _long_ year.


	178. My Last Night With You

_Fic inspired by the THEE Adele's "All I Ask." I couldn't do a song fic—still hate those—but this one-shot was based off of the lyrics. I'm not even going to add them to this. If you haven't heard the song, youtube it. It's incredible._

 **MY LAST NIGHT WITH YOU**

 **Rated M**

He didn't say a word when he opened the door. He just stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and leaned against it.

She was at her vanity. Her wig and makeup were off, leaving her more flawless than usual. He had told her a million times that she looked better without all that makeup, so she knew he wouldn't waste his breath by telling her now. There's a lot he wouldn't be saying now. He'd said enough over the years, and in staring at her in the mirror, he knew they were both in agreement.

She could read him just as well as he could read her, and her eyes were telling him everything without her having to even open her mouth.

He imagined his eyes were doing the same.

She turned to face him, giving him a soft smile. He had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, despite the fact that his ability to love trumped anyone else she knew. He probably didn't see it that way, but tonight they would play pretend.

Tonight he'd have her as more than just a friend.

It was a delicate, foolish, stupid line they were crossing tonight. They _knew_ better, but everything would change tonight. She was terrified, and he? He could be nothing but determined. Whatever came next… only time would tell.

In her mind, there was no tomorrow.

Everything would end tonight.

She approached him first. He hadn't moved an inch. He still clung to that door, as if it provided some sort of safety or by moving away from it time would no longer stand still.

Yet as she approached him, he met her halfway, and before she knew it her lips were on his, and his were on hers.

She'd never pictured him as gentle before, yet the kiss was.

It wasn't their first kiss, but it very well might be their last.

Perhaps that was why he was taking his time with her tonight. He was meticulous and deliberate, even as he undressed her, and she found herself nearly confused when he took her hand and guided her to the bed. This they didn't do. He was leaving her memories, she mused, and it made her somewhat sad, until she realized she better enjoy this moment for all it was worth, because she didn't know what would happen next.

This could very well be the end of them.

Of _her_.

He whispered her name as he slid in and out of her with a tenderness she hadn't know was possible, nor was she prepared for it. His eyes were dark with lust, and something else that she could only attribute to sadness. She assumed her eyes reflected the same thing.

She didn't want him to go, so she clung onto him, tightly, possessively, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers clutching his hair. She came, her body bucking, but he held on, his hips speeding up, his strokes deeper.

Normally they'd change positions, but tonight it seemed like he wanted to memorize her. He pushed her down so that he could look at her, and she kept his gaze until her eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure.

After a few moments he buried his face in her neck, and then his lips were covering hers, and she was responding with a fervor she'd never had before.

He broke away after a while, resting his forehead against hers. She arched her back, squeezing her eyes shut as another orgasm ruptured through her.

"Look at me," he panted, and she obeyed him, instantly, her blue eyes meeting his grey ones. There was an emotion in his eyes that she refused to acknowledge, an emotion she had long given up fighting for herself, but he had fought tooth and nail every single day against.

Now, _now_ of all times, he wanted to express it, when there was nothing left and no tomorrow.

This was it. There was nothing left after this, and she knew that. He was everything, _everything_ to her, and when he was gone, who else could she run to?

 _Don't say it_ , she thought to herself. _Not now. It'd just make it that much more unbearable_. It was what she had always wanted to hear from him. What she had dreamt of hearing him tell her. But he never had before, and she didn't want him to start tonight.

He seemed to read her mind, though, and he refrained from letting that delicacy slip. There'd be no recovering from that. Besides, he'd told her that well enough in his own way for the past few years, more so now than ever.

She _knew_.

 _He_ probably hadn't, but he knew now, and he'd have to live with that.

He moaned and sped up, his thrusts becoming frantic. She whimpered, clutching his back, enjoying the feel of him, wishing it would never end. She could honestly spend the rest of her life underneath this man.

Only she couldn't. He hadn't said a word, but she knew. Deep down she knew this was her last night with him.

Why else would be holding her like this? Touching her like this? Kissing her like this?

She slid her hands up to his face, grabbing his face, and he cupped her cheeks, his thumb swiping at her lips. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she opened her mouth wider to grant him better access.

He sucked on her bottom lip and she returned the favor, so much so that his body jerked and he came.

She followed close behind, his name repeatedly on her lips.

It took her awhile to float back down to earth, and when she finally came to, he had pulled her to him, his face buried in her neck, drawing lazy circles on her stomach.

This is how she would remember them, she realized. This moment, right here, right now, doing what lovers do. No sorrow, no sadness, no cruelness or vindictiveness. There would be no need for forgiveness, on either of their parts. This night was her lesson in love.

This could very well be the end of them.

Of _her_.

This... _mattered_. How this ended was important, because she was fully prepared to never love again.


	179. Head Boy And Head Girl Duties

_Here's another HP/HG crossover with Hayffie as students. I wanted to stay as true to character as possible, even though we're in a whole new Universe, so the "Marauders" are Haymitch, Chaff, Johanna, and Finnick. Seeder and Mags will be Professors who work with Dumbledore in what'll be the Original Order of the Phoenix. Annie will still be Finnick's g/f, and I'll make Annie and Effie besties, since I absolutely canNOT see Jo and Effie as best friends. Just… no. Anyway, ENJOY!_

 _WIZARDING WORLD OF HP IN A FEW HOURS!_

 **HEAD BOY AND HEAD GIRL DUTIES**

 **Rated**

Effie made her way to the Great Hall, her blue eyes immediately looking out for the redheaded girl that she'd grown so fond of. It didn't take Effie long to spot her, or to be spotted. The girl squealed and made a beeline for Effie, and then the two of them were in each other's arms.

"Annie, I've missed you," Effie exclaimed.

"I missed you too," beamed the hazel-eyed beauty. She didn't ride the Hogwarts Express but took a portkey to school every year—the poor girl got horrible motion sickness. She could hardly Apparate and Disapparate.

"She didn't even embrace _me_ like that," a familiar voice stated, and Annie broke out into a laugh as Effie turned around, her eyes dancing. "And _there_ she is, my second favorite girl."

Effie rolled her eyes and embraced Finnick. "Ever the charmer, O'Dair."

"If I may say, you are even more stunning—" he kissed one cheek, "and perfect—" he kissed her other cheek, "and drop-dead gorgeous as ever." He finished by kissing her forehead.

"Stop drooling all over my Head Girl," muttered Haymitch.

"Oh, is she _your_ Head Girl?" Chaff asked. "I wasn't aware Trinket belonged to anyone."

" _Thank you_ , Chaff." He winked at her and the two of them embraced. "Johanna." The girl arched an eyebrow and then immediately bypassed Effie and embraced Annie.

Effie felt an unnatural fondness for them all. They called themselves the Victors, though Effie had no idea why, aside from the fact that they were all extremely good-looking and practically the best at everything, excluding all things proper and mannerable.

The Victors consisted of Haymitch, Chaff, Finnick, and Johanna. Haymitch and Chaff were best friends while Johanna and Finnick were best friends, but how any of them got along with Johanna Mason was beyond Effie, yet the four of them clicked. Aside from Finnick the rest of them were rude and insufferable, but Johanna was purposely nasty. Haymitch could be harsh, but Johanna was cruel, and Johanna had taught Effie the difference on more than one occasion.

Annie and Effie were sort of honorary members since Annie was dating Finnick and Annie and Effie were best friends, but she found it rather difficult to be around them for too long. They joked around and goofed off a lot, and Effie didn't have a lot of time for those things. Not to mention she always felt slightly out of place because they were all Gryffindor, save for Annie, who was a Hufflepuff.

Still, it was not uncommon for both Effie and Annie to be seen in the Gryffindor Common Room.

She wasn't sure how that'd go with her and Haymitch sharing Head Boy and Girl duties.

She found rather early on it would be quite challenging.

They fought _a lot_. It was how they communicated, it's what made sense to them, and it was exhausting, particularly since he had made it quite clear he would leave all the work for her.

It was draining, but she sucked it up under the agreement that he would show up on time to the meetings, at least _pretend_ to be somewhat intelligent, and made rounds with her.

So far he had kept his word, though the year was still early. Only October.

He had a way of working her every single nerve all at the same time so that she had no last nerves to be worked, which is why she was currently in her Head Girl room about to pull out her hair.

He had deserted her _again_.

She wasn't sure _why_ she was even surprised anymore.

Headmaster Dumbledore had made it quite clear that he was all about bringing the school together instead of being divided by the Houses. It was no secret that there was a rising interest in the Dark Arts as of lately, and with what happened to Nova and Haymitch's family…. Things were getting ugly out there, so Dumbledore wanted to remind everyone to stick together.

Because of that Effie had come up with a Halloween party instead of the usual Halloween Feast. She thought it might do good to allow the students to mix and mingle as opposed to sit in their respective houses.

It was a good idea in theory, but it took a lot of planning, and Haymitch was never anywhere to be found. He never was, and sometimes it was refreshing, it was nice to have a break from him, but other times it was overwhelming. She had exams, NEWTs were coming up, not to mention all the homework to prepare her for said exams, she didn't have _time_ to do Haymitch's work as well.

If she hadn't had such good time management skills….

When Halloween finally arrived she was relieved to be done with it. She was so exhausted that she almost thought about skipping it, only she'd already bought the dress and it looked _amazing_ on her, and she was the _host_ , she couldn't not show up, no matter how tempting.

So at six fifty-five she found herself in the Gryffindor Common Room, along with Chaff, Johanna, Finnick, and Annie, who were all dressed and ready to go.

Of _course_ they were waiting on Haymitch.

Most of everybody else was already downstairs waiting to enter the Great Hall, though there were a few stragglers and some who had decided not to go at all.

Effie suspected that the ones who were still here were only here because they expected a show. It was _always_ fireworks when Effie and Haymitch were concerned.

If he didn't bring himself out of his room in _three seconds_ those stragglers would certainly get a show.

A woman of her word, a few seconds later Effie called up. "Haymitch Abernathy if you don't get down here in _two minutes_ I am coming up there after you."

"I think you just wanna see me naked, Princess," Haymitch called, his door slightly ajar.

A few people snickered and Effie shot them a glare. "Do not be so crass. Besides, I am quite positive there is not much to see."

That earned a laugh from both Chaff and Finnick until Haymitch came barging out, narrowing his eyes at them. Their laughs quickly turned into coughs.

"Just because I've never gotten up for you—"

"My, aren't we awfully defensive," Effie stated sweetly. "I apologize if I've bruised your ego."

Haymitch smirked. "There is _nothing_ about my _ego_ that's bruised."

"Forgive me for not believing you nor caring. Come along Haymitch, we are nearly late, and that is in poor taste, figuring we are Head Girl and Head Boy."

"Don't get your wand twisted in a knot. The Halloween feast will still be there if we're a second late."

"One minute, Haymitch, and you will feel my wrath" was all Effie said.

* * *

He started his way downstairs with thirty seconds to spare, though his step faltered for a few moments.

He was stunned.

Effie was… she looked… well _shit_. He couldn't even _think_.

The thing about Effie Trinket was that she had to be the best. She had to be the most talked about, the most sought after, the most _everything_. So he shouldn't have been surprised when he saw her, because she'd make the _Daily Prophet_ looking like that.

She wore a floor length navy-blue Wizard's robes with a bright orange dress underneath that left very little to the imagination, even though she was fully covered. It was tasteful in every way possible, but it made him _highly_ uncomfortable, though he couldn't place why. She had on orange lipstick that he thought would look ridiculous on anybody other than her. Her hair was in some fancy, complicated up do, highlighting her face.

He must have kept walking at some point because he was close to her. Close enough to smell her, and she smelled _incredible_ , and familiar. He pictured a rainy day in Potions class during his sixth year, but before that thought could form he let that thought leave as quickly as it came.

His breath caught in his throat as she approached him. "I am going to assume at some point in your pathetic little life you'll learn how to tie a tie properly, but I shall not hold my breath. It is not like they have ties in Azkaban."

"Careful, Princess, your bitch is showing."

She tightened her grip on his tie and yanked him to her. "If you embarrass me tonight, Haymitch Abernathy, I will make your life a living _hell_. If you think I annoy you now, you do _anything_ to ruin this night for me, and I can personally assure you that we will be joined at the hip from now until the end of the year. Are we _clear_?"

Haymitch snarled at her, mainly because he was turned on at the flash in her eye, not to mention her voice was low and husky and he thought he might die of shame for lusting after _her_ of all people.

"I'll be good, Trinket."

"There's a good boy," she stated, and then her hand was moving his hair out of his face, and something shifted.

She'd felt it too, he knew it the moment she froze, her eyes widening slightly. And then her eyes were guarded, she finished fixing his hair, and stepped back, clearing her throat.

"Come along, Haymitch, we are very nearly late."

Effie walked away, Annie, Johanna, and Finnick following behind her. Chaff stayed behind with Haymitch, who was still trying to get his shit together. Chaff arched an eyebrow at his best friend.

Haymitch purposely ignored him.

"You're drooling, Mate," whispered Chaff, never one to give up easily.

Haymitch pretended as if Chaff didn't exist.

* * *

"How the hell did you pull off 142 Staircases?" asked Haymitch, sneaking up behind her at the buffet table.

She started, but not by much. "First of all, _language,_ Haymitch. Second of all, it is _rude_ to sneak up on people. Third of all, I dated the lead band singer," Effie responded, and Haymitch's stomach dropped.

"Is there anyone you haven't dated?" The question was supposed to be a joke, but it came out serious.

Her eyes darted to him, betrayal evident in her eyes before she masked it. "I was _joking_ , Haymitch. _Every_ girl has wished they had dated the lead singer. In all honesty I called my father. He works in the Ministry and has quite a few connects. The lead singer's father and my father work together." Her voice was mechanical and detached.

He reached out and brushed her arm. "I wasn't serious, what I said." She arched an eyebrow and he cleared his throat, stepping back. "I jus' wanted to tell you that you did a good job with the party." He looked around. "It looks like a success."

Effie waved away his praise. "You do not have to worry about me ratting you out. That is tasteless and not my style. You do not have to pretend to be nice to me, Haymitch."

"I wasn't pretending," he snapped out. He hadn't meant to snap, but her assumption that he was only playacting with ulterior motives struck him the wrong way.

This time she stepped back from, and he was about to apologize again when Dumbledore's voice rang out.

"If we could have our Head Boy and Girl come up here, please," stated the Headmaster.

"Oh, Merlin, _what_ is he doing?" Effie whispered.

"Relax, Princess," said Haymitch with an eye roll. "Come on."

They made their way towards the front where Dumbledore was standing. He thanked them for their hard work and dedication, and told them that this was the most successful Halloween party he'd ever attended. Effie beamed and the applause and then Dumbledore asked if there was anything either of them would like to say.

Unsurprisingly, Effie did.

"I just wanted to thank everyone for coming tonight, it was certainly a blast. This wouldn't have been possible without Haymitch—" he jerked at the sound of his name— "And the Prefects, not to mention Annie Cresta. Thank you, Headmaster, for allowing me free reign, and thank you 142 Staircases for coming out tonight."

The crowd erupted and the music started again, and then Effie was gone, mingling with the crowd.

Haymitch made his way towards the door. He found he was mentally drained, and he wasn't one hundred percent sure why, though he suspected it had something to do with pining after Effie all night.

Effie _Trinket_.

He'd made it down the hall before a shout of "Haymitch!" echoed around him. He stopped and turned around only to find Effie approaching him. "Where are you going? You're never one to turn down a party. Or do you only stay up all night when Quidditch is involved?"

She was teasing him, and he found that strange. They didn't _tease_ each other."

"We have a Quidditch match in a few days, and my team doesn't know it yet, but they'll be getting an early wakeup call." It was an easy enough lie that he would now have to turn into a truth, but to blatantly state, "I don't like seeing you dance with every bloke but me" didn't seem like something he should say.

She nodded. "Yes, Gryffindor has been without a House Cup for quite a few years now."

He arched an eyebrow. "You know about Quidditch?"

"I follow the game, yes."

He found himself impressed. "Wow. I had no idea."

She looked at him and shook his head. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have ever asked." _That_ was something like a slap to the face, and it must have shown because she quickly stated, "And I would not have divulged that information." He stayed silent. "Well I suppose I shall get back to the party. Have a good night."

She turned and started walking away. "Trinket," he called after her, and she turned back around. "Watch me play?"

She stood there for a long time without saying anything, so much so that he felt stupid for saying anything. The question had slipped out. And then—

"You are playing Slytherin. I would not miss it for the world. See you tomorrow."

He wasn't quite sure why he went to bed with a smile on his face, but he figured Head Boy was beginning to be more trouble than he thought.

" _Careful, Princess, your bitch is showing" is the most brilliant line I think I've ever written in my life LOL. I adore it._

 _Also, there is a list of Wrock Bands on HP Wiki, which is where I got the famous band from._


	180. NEWTs Prep

_I'm so glad you guys like the series! I have to admit it's fun to write. While I won't be creating a whole new story for that, be prepared to see this Universe a lot because I actually have a lot of fresh ideas =)_

 _Also, the Wizarding World of HP was absolutely EVERYTHING. I'm running on an hour of sleep but will be home in a few hours. Take care!_

 **NEWTs PREP**

 **Rated T**

Seventh year was proving to be a real pain in the ass for Haymitch. He had never counted on having Head Boy duties. Most days Haymitch figured Dumbledore was in his office snickering at making Haymitch's life a living hell.

In reality Haymitch knew Dumbledore's motives: keep Haymitch preoccupied so he wouldn't think about his dead girl and mom and brother who'd been killed in a random attack while shopping in a Muggle town in London. There were no witnesses, no one has come forward, but the scene of the crime showed all the clues of Dark Magic.

Haymitch had been devastated, and would have been content drinking his life away, only it seemed Dumbledore had other ideas for him. The Headmaster came and visited so frequently that any habit Haymitch might have formed quickly disappeared.

Even he, with his ability to break rules better than anyone, wasn't so bold to drink in front of Albus Dumbledore.

When Haymitch had gotten the Head Boy badge in the mail he nearly told his owl to send it back, only she refused to take the package. He had laughed, thinking his Headmaster was barking, that it was some joke, because _no one_ would make _him_ Head Boy, only no second letter claiming it was a mistake ever showed up.

He'd been at school two months now and he'd stopped worrying that Dumbledore would seek him out and explain that it was all some misunderstanding, and that really Finnick was Head Boy.

If anyone deserved it, it'd been Finnick. _He'd_ been a Prefect before, he actually followed rules and didn't cause nowhere near as much trouble as he and Chaff did.

But Finnick didn't seem to mind at all being passed up on the Head Boy position. Perhaps because he saw how stretched thin Haymitch was, because on top of Head Boy he was also Quidditch Captain, which wasn't as much of a shocker.

Then all his classes were starting to be a pain. Most classes like Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts came naturally. Care of Magical Creatures could be fascinating depending on the creature. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes could be a pain, but he got through well enough.

It was Potions class that was becoming a true pain in the ass.

He shared that class with Effie.

He shared a few classes with Effie, but none of them were as intimate as Potions. NEWT level Potions was one of the smaller classes in general because it was so hard to get into. There were only seven of them in this class, and Chaff, Johanna, Finnick, nor Annie were a part of that lucky number seven.

It was just him and Effie along with a few Slytherins and two Hufflepuffs, and for some reason as soon as she saw him that first day of class she scurried next to him and they'd sat next to each other ever since.

The good news was that Professor Slughorn tended to break them up into partners, so he wasn't spending _every_ moment next to her.

The bad news is Lucius Malfoy was always _way_ too eager in his opinion to work with Effie, and Haymitch still didn't understand why it _annoyed_ him so much, but his annoyance had only increased after that Halloween party.

This particular day in Potions Professor Slughorn told them that they'd have to make Amortentia from memory—at least as much as possible. Haymitch had rolled his eyes but Effie had stiffened enough for Haymitch to notice.

As soon as Professor Slughorn was finished everybody was moving around to get all the ingredients.

Effie stayed in her chair.

"Yo, Trinket, what's up with you?" asked Haymitch.

She jumped at his voice and then cleared his throat. "Nothing, I… Well—"

"Hey, Effie, it's okay if you smell me," Lucius stated, his eyes twinkling. Relief flashed in Effie's eyes, and her entire body relaxed.

"Funny, Lucius, really. Care to share a table?"

"I'd be honored." Lucius turned around, his long robe billowing behind him, glared at the person he was sitting next to, and jerked his head, telling the guy to scram. "Oh, look. A spot just opened up."

Effie laughed and Haymitch scowled.

He wasn't sure why.

He started preparing his potion a little more angrily than necessary.

"By now you should be smelling those distinct and unique scents of your soulmate," Slughorn stated, and Haymitch rolled his eyes. He didn't smell _shit_.

When Slughorn finally made his rounds he approached Haymitch. "Ah, Mr. Abernathy. I'm afraid you forgot one thing. Your coloring is off. Can you tell me what it is?"

"I know these ingredients by heart," Haymitch stated. "One Ashwinder egg, seven rose thorns, a pinch of dried peppermint, one scope of crushed Moonstone powder, and… four petals of a Belladonna flowers…." He had put in three petals. "Oops."

Slughorn laughed. "Oops indeed. You know better than this, Haymitch. You need to focus more. You didn't realize you weren't smelling anything?"

Haymitch shrugged easily. "I jus' thought it meant I would never fall in love."

Malfoy laughed loudly. "That's probably true, Potion made correctly or not." Haymitch glared at him as most of the rest of the class laughed.

"And let's see your Portion, shall we, Lucius?"

"Yes," agreed Slughorn, making his way over to Lucius' table. "Ah. The characteristic swirls are off. You missed _two_ very important things, so perhaps we shouldn't be talking about Mr. Abernathy's lack of love."

"More like his inability to climb out of lust," Malfoy muttered.

"Hey I've been on my absolute best behavior this year," stated Haymitch, enough so that Chaff was starting to question his sanity.

"That's because Quidditch hasn't started, and you need groupies in order to get laid."

Haymitch was about to respond, his eyes flashing dangerously, when Slughorn stepped in. "That is quite enough from you two. Next thing you know we'll be having a 'My wand is bigger than your wand,' and who wants to endure that? You forgot your pinch of peppermint, Mr. Malfoy, as well as your thorns. Don't forget the little details when making a potion."

"Ah, yes, well I was distracted by the beautiful woman next to me."

Effie blushed but was pleased with the admission.

Haymitch barely refrained from hexing the bloke.

"Everyone gather around," Slughorn called. "Now _this_ is a perfectly brewed Potion, but I am not the least bit surprised. Well done, Ms. Trinket." Effie beamed as they all made their way to her cauldron, Haymitch standing directly behind her. "Everyone get a good look at Ms. Trinket's potion, it's _perfect_. Look at the coloring, and the way the smoke swirls."

Haymitch bent down, noting that the potion _was_ perfect, when the scent of her hair filled his nostrils. It was quite a pleasant smell, but before he could get another whiff Slughorn told them all to pack up.

Effie turned around and nearly ran into him.

"Sorry," Haymitch muttered, and she gave him a gentle frown. "What? I apologized."

" _Why_ did you have to get into a verbal altercation with Lucius?"

Haymitch's mouth sprung open. "Why do you get to call him Lucius when everyone else calls him Malfoy?" accused Haymitch.

Effie blushed scarlet. " _That_ is _none_ of your business," she hissed, and then she grabbed her cauldron and stalked off to the sink. Haymitch went back to his table and grabbed his own cauldron, getting in line behind her.

"I think you're just jealous that I had a go at Malfoy and not you. It's been a few days since we had our last fight."

Effie tapped her foot, clearly irritated, and Haymitch smirked. When it was her turn she poured her potion down the sink, and once again Haymitch smelled Effie's hair.

"You use lavender and vanilla scented shampoo, don't you?" asked Haymitch without thinking.

Effie stilled for a second and then spun around, nearly whipping him in the face with her long locks. " _What_?" she asked.

"You shampoo. It's lavender and vanilla, right?"

Effie blinked at him. "How do you know that?"

"Got a nose, don't I? It lingers, your scent. I can smell it now."

Effie stared at him for a few minutes, her eyes searching his until he arched an eyebrow. "Right. Yes, that is the shampoo I wear. I should go. I do not want to be late to my next class."

She was gone before he could blink, and he found himself alone at the sink. For a brief moment Haymitch wondered if she was dashing off after Malfoy.

He shrugged, telling himself it didn't matter.

It wasn't until the mail came the next day that Haymitch even _remembered_ this moment. They were eating lunch when all the owls made their way to the table. Haymitch instantly noticed Effie's owl. It was jet-black and unique and luscious and expensive as hell, and jut the kind of pet Effie Trinket would own.

" _Finally_ ," Annie stated as her own owl plopped down next to her. "Effie, my mom finally sent you your shampoo." She grabbed the brown package and handed it off to Effie.

"Oh, thank goodness. I was _miserable_ having to borrow Jeannie Chang's shampoo for the past few days. Apricot is _not_ my scent."

"Why does your mom send Effie shampoo?" asked Finnick.

"Because you can only find it in a Muggle store in Ireland," Annie shrugged as if that were the answer any of them were looking for. As the Victors stared at her in silence she elaborated. "Our first year here my mother wanted me to try this new shampoo she bought. I _hated_ it. Later on that day I met Effie and she complimented the smell. Long story short from that day on she wore the vanilla and lavender shampoo. My mom orders her the products every year – enough to supply her for an entire year – but this year the shop's order supply was late, thus causing Effie to borrow Jeannie's shampoo."

Haymitch froze in his seat for a few seconds once the story registered.

He was missing something, he just knew it.

It hit him like a ton of bricks a few seconds later. Effie hadn't been wearing that shampoo yesterday, yet he'd still smelled it. So that meant… it _couldn't_ mean….

Haymitch decided not to dwell on it. He _refused_ to. It was just a _stupid_ potion.


	181. Karaoke Night

" _Effie discovers that Haymitch has a really nice voice. Could you write Haymitch doing some karaoke?" – laaloqitadepri. For the song I pictured 'I Think I Love You' by the Partridge Family. DON'T JUDGE ME. I just kept seeing the scene from Scream 2._

 **KARAOKE NIGHT**

 **Rated T**

"Well that was quite the show," said a familiar amused voice, and Haymitch's mouth dropped open as he spun around. There his Escort was, looking flashier than ever, and he scowled.

"Trinket! Are you _stalking_ me?"

Effie gave a delighted laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch," Effie said, her blue eyes glittering. "Out of _all_ the bars you would go to, trust me when I say this is the last one I thought you'd ever be in."

"Yah, well, I lost a bet," said Haymitch, clearly sulking. Chaff grinned and Effie bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"I had no idea you could sing, Haymitch."

"Not a _fucking_ word, Trinket."

"Who on earth would believe me?" She laughed, and Haymitch decided it set his teeth on edge. He signaled to the bartender to get him another drink.

"What're you doin' here? If not to stalk my best friend?" asked Chaff, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I'm meeting an old friend, and this place is close to my apartment."

Chaff's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Plan on going back there later?"

Before Effie could respond the owner came up. "Euphemia Trinket," he breathed, and then Effie was squealing and they were hugging and laughing. "You look _incredible_. Oh, you hurt them with your beauty."

Effie laughed. "You're a doll."

"Can I tempt you to get on the mic?"

"Oh no. Not tonight. I'm going to let my Mentor have his moment."

"You must have taught him a few things. He wasn't that bad."

"Yah right. There's a reason he won the Games, and not a singing competition," Chaff said, and Effie smiled. "You sing Trinket?"

" _Does_ she? There's nothing this woman _can't_ do. She shuts it down every other Saturday. People flock from all over the Capitol to hear her. She's a legend here. She's perfection, wrapped in a pretty pink present."

Effie blushed. " _Please_. You mean a _diamond_ -studded pretty pink present."

"Yes, how ever did I forget?" Effie laughed and Haymitch rolled his eyes. "If you're not here to sing, what are you here for?"

"I'm meeting an old high school friend."

"That certainly is old," muttered Haymitch, and Effie shot him a look that had him smirking.

"Anyway, he should be arriving any minute, so if you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, darling." He had a kiss for her, and then he was off.

"Wow. You certainly have them flocking to you, don't you?" snarled Haymitch.

"Jealously is a female trait, Dear. Besides… it is _I_ who she be jealous. You and Chaff are much more his type."

Haymitch frowned, and right at that moment, another man walked up to them.

"Effie?"

Effie's eyes widened slightly and then she turned around. "Clio," she said softly. The man was tall and perfectly groomed, and made Haymitch feel like he lived in poverty, despite the fact that he was a Victor and had about as much money as God.

"You are… everything I've ever remembered." His eyes were bright green, and too perfect to be real, his hair too black to match the tone of his skin.

"I'm so glad you could make it," stated Effie. "It's been a long time."

"Too long."

The two of them stared at each other until Haymitch felt something in his stomach drop.

"You gonna introduce us, Trinket?" asked Chaff.

"What? Oh, right. How rude of me." She cleared her throat. "Haymitch, Chaff, this is Clio. We went to high school together. Clio, this is—"

"I know who they are," Clio grinned. He stared at Chaff. "I bet on you the year you won." Then his eyes focused on Haymitch. "And _you_? You cost me ten million dollars, and a date to my eighth grade dance." He glanced at Effie.

"What?"

"Oh, yes. I had every intention of asking you to come with me." He turned back to Chaff and Haymitch. "She lived a few streets down from me, though we didn't know each other. By the time she started modeling _everybody_ knew her, and my dad and her dad worked together, so I thought I'd ask her. And then I lost, and the guy I lost to, who knew I liked you, asked you instead."

"I turned him down, though," said Effie, clearly amused.

"Would you have gone with me?"

"I'll put it to you like this: I'm meeting with you, but not with him."

Clio grinned at her and Haymitch gripped his glass tighter. What was wrong with him? He shouldn't care that Effie was openly flirting with this man. She flirted all the time.

 _But not like this_ , a voice reminded him. She'd never _liked_ those idiots before _Clio_.

"Anyway," Clio said. "I begged Father to let me attend Effie's high school, and he agreed, and I finally got to meet her. We dated for about three years, though it wasn't easy."

"Don't start, Clio," said Effie, stiffening slightly, and he arched an eyebrow. Then he turned back to Haymitch.

"It took quite some time to convince her to remove your poster from her locker. She was quite taken with you in high school."

Effie blushed scarlet. " _That_ is quite the exaggeration."

"It is not," laughed Clio, and Chaff snorted. "She used to tell me that if she met you, she'd make no promises about us." Haymitch arched an eyebrow and Effie refused to meet his eye. "It took her quite a bit of…" He looked her over. " _Convincing_ to prove to her she wasn't going to be Mrs. Haymitch Abernathy."

" _Everybody_ wanted to marry Haymitch," Effie explained. "I was not alone." Effie cleared her throat. "Now if you're quite done embarrassing me in front of my Mentor, I'd like to have that drink now."

Clio laughed. "I'm just giving you a hard time. I can't tell you how _jealous_ I was when I found out you were a Mentor for 12."

"Do not be ridiculous. There's nothing to be jealous of. It was a school girl crush that died away the first time you kissed me."

Haymitch threw back the rest of his drink and ordered another one.

"So what was Effie like in high school?" asked Chaff, clearly having a good time. Both Effie and Haymitch scowled.

"Voted most likely to be famous," Clio responded. "That probably sums it up."

"More than you know," agreed Chaff, winking.

"She has a way of getting whatever she wants, which was why I wasn't surprised that she'd gotten 12. She'd always wanted Haymitch."

"I was _assigned_ to Haymitch. I did not request him. 12 was the only District with an opening."

"Still, it's quite the respectable job."

Effie frowned. "Respect is in the eye of the beholder," she muttered, and Haymitch stiffened, as did Chaff. Effie cringed, realizing she'd slipped.

"Well in this case, respect is being held." He held out his arm for her, and she graciously accepted it, realizing Clio had misunderstood her admission of dislike for the Games. "It was nice meeting you two. Good luck in this year's Games, though that Finnick fellow looks pretty good."

"I think I like him," Chaff said. "He's not bad, for a Capitol. I see why Effie's into him. At least this one has a brain."

"Shut _up_ ," snarled Haymitch.

Chaff looked at him. "You _are_ jealous!"

"I'm not either," Haymitch snapped. "I could care less about who my Escort does."

"Are you screwing her?"

"Do _not_ be ridiculous," Haymitch said.

But he wanted to. _Fuck_ did he want to, and he had wanted to for the past few years. Had almost scored, too, a couple of times, until one of them stopped the other. She wanted him just as badly, and that's what made it so _thrilling_.

Only she was _different_ this year, and now he knew why.

When she arrived at the Penthouse, _several_ hours later, he was on the couch, drinking and trying to convince himself that he wasn't waiting up for her.

"Have a nice _date_?" he spat, and she started.

She hadn't even _noticed_ him.

"It was all right," she said, coming out of her heels.

"It's awfully late," commented Haymitch.

She sighed. "Honestly, if you want to know if I slept with him, just ask."

He poured another glass and drank it down, deciding he didn't care. He stood up—swayed more like it—and stalked off to his room.

Oh, he was jealous, grinned Effie.

 _So_ jealous.

She'd have to call and thank Chaff for _whatever_ he did to convince Haymitch to go to that karaoke bar. He was the only one who knew where she was going, because she'd accidently let it slip.

She'd have Haymitch begging for it before she was through with him.

Teach _him_ to deny _her_.


	182. Lantern Lighting

_For those of you waiting for He's Fire, She's the Ocean, I will not be posting tomorrow. I'll post when I can, promise._

 **LANTERN LIGHTING**

 **Rated K**

Effie walked into the bedroom, her eyes sweeping the room, and noted that it was empty. She saw a sliver of light underneath the bathroom door and made her way to the door, knocking gently.

"Haymitch?" she called softly, opening the door. She found Haymitch at the sink, having nearly aged a million years. She tried not to sigh. Instead she locked eyes with him: blue against grey. "You ready?"

He inhaled sharply, looking down, and she could see the turmoil on his face. His eyes were darker than usual, his frown deeper than normal. She watched as he gripped the sink until his knuckles turned white.

"Yah," he finally breathed, looking up at her again, and he turned and faced her. She forced a smile as he started to walk towards her, only he didn't make it very far. He stopped and shook his head. "No. No, Effie, I can't do this. I can't go."

Effie nodded. She had suspected as much. He'd been parading around for the past week, pretending to be okay, up until today, where he stayed in bed for half the day and spent the other half moping around and snapping at anyone who looked at him too long. She'd sent the kids off to Katniss and Peeta's for fear that he'd snap at them, and she'd draw the line there.

"I'm fine, Effie. Jus… go without me."

She wanted to hug him, or hold him, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. He wouldn't want her pity, and any act of comfort she'd show him would be perceived as that.

"I'll see you after the ceremony," was all Effie stated, and she turned and left, closing the door behind her. She made her way downstairs, where Annie, Peeta, and Katniss were waiting with Ash, Ava, Willow, and Finn. She shook her head. "He's not coming."

Katniss frowned, her eyes passing Effie and looking up the stairs, as if she could peer through the hallway and into their Master Suite. Her grey eyes were troubled, but understanding.

It did nothing for Effie. It'd been a long time since Haymitch shut her out.

* * *

Haymitch remained in the bathroom, even as he heard the front door close. He stared at himself in the mirror, taking sharp breaths, willing himself to _calm down_. If he didn't, he'd surely relapse.

If anything could make him relapse, it was death.

The Lantern Lighting was something Paylor had reinstated to pay tribute to the fallen victims of the Second Rebellion. It was a nationwide holiday, similar to what would have been Veteran's Day back in the old days. People got paid time off of work and there was food and drinks and… it was supposed to be a good time had by all, only Haymitch had never quite found it so amusing.

There was nothing _celebratory_ about _death_ , no matter who was being respected.

This was the first year the Districts would be celebrating Rebel's Day. The Capitol had been celebrating it for eight years now, and it was always televised. It wasn't mandatory… no, those days were long gone, and a lot of the Districts couldn't partake in the celebrations because most of them were still being rebuilt. This was the first year that the majority of the Districts had money to celebrate.

The Capitol and 12 were always the main focus. They had lost the most. Every District was supposed to meet at a certain place, and together, as a community, remembering those who had lost their lives, particularly those who'd sacrificed their lives during the Second Rebellion.

People like Chaff.

Finnick.

Boggs.

Mags.

And a countless amount of others, particularly the eight odd thousand people from his own District, and he was supposed to parade up to the meadow and light bloody lanterns in honor of their memories, as if it'd all been worth it.

Haymitch frowned at that thought. Some of it had been worth it. He wasn't _free_ , but he no longer felt trapped. He no longer drank, even if he was currently craving the substance now more than ever. And even though it'd be all too easy to gulp down some mouthwash, or swallow some rubbing alcohol, he had _children_ now, people who _depended_ on him and _needed_ him.

He had a wife now too.

A wife who'd spent months in a cell in the very city he was hell bent on destroying. He had known lives would be lost, it couldn't be _war_ otherwise, but he had always been adamant about sparing as many innocent lives as possible.

He'd lost a lot, but he'd certainly gained a lot too.

Their sacrifices weren't in vain.

Perhaps that was the point of the lantern lighting: to pay homage to those who had helped created a better Panem. They weren't celebrating death. They were honoring it.

Chaff, Finnick, Mags… they all deserved to be remembered for their sacrifice. And Chaff would have been out there for him, if Haymitch had died. So would Finnick.

Haymitch sighed as he realized how selfish he was being. He could do this. He _should_ do it. Because Chaff, Finnick, Mags, Boggs, all of 12… _Prim_ … they deserved it.

* * *

There were still people arriving at the meadow, so Haymitch wasn't too late. There were a few stragglers. The ceremony started at sunset, and it was nearly sunset now. He figured he was right on time.

His eyes swept the meadow, looking for the people who mattered most to him. He noticed security present, and the cameras and reports, Caesar included, and ignored them both.

It didn't take long for him to spot Effie. She'd always been easy to find for him. _Admitting_ that had taken some years – several – but there she was, front and center only a few feet away. She wore a simple summer dress, dandelion gold no less, that looked brilliant against her blonde hair and blue eyes. Ash was holding her hand, Ava in one arm.

She already had a lit lantern in another.

Katniss had two lanterns, as did Peeta. Annie also had one.

Haymitch walked up behind Effie, sliding his hands around her and resting his palms on her baby bump. She leaned into him. It didn't take long for him to feel Ash wrap himself around Haymitch's leg. With one hand now free Effie gripped Haymitch's hand. He kissed her neck, breathing in deeply.

"I know," Effie whispered to him.

She _did_ know. He didn't have to say anything. She just got it.

The ceremony was simple. Each person lit a lantern in the memory of a certain person. Effie went first. "For Seeder," stated Effie softly, lighting the lantern and setting it free.

"For Finnick," said Annie, doing the same.

"For Prim," Katniss stated, and Haymitch watched as she lifted her arms and thrust the lantern into the air.

Peeta cleared his throat, lit his, and said, "For Rue," at the same time he let go. The three of them turned to Haymitch.

"I don't have a lantern," Haymitch told them, and Peeta handed him his other one. Haymitch stared at it for several moments. Effie laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and Haymitch took a deep breath and lit the lantern, his hands shaking.

He didn't say a name when he let his go. He thought there were too many to name. It was for _all_ of them, for every friend he'd lost over the years by the hands of the Capitol. He held his breath as Effie wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

They all stood in silence, like the rest of the District, as the last few people muttered out their names. Together they watched the lanterns rise into the indigo sky, the moment of silence both deafening and overwhelming. He heard Effie sniff and knew she'd succumbed to the tears that he was currently feeling pricking his eyes. _He_ wasn't a crier, though, so he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I think… I don't think I can take much more," Haymitch stated, and Effie nodded.

"We will see you guys tomorrow," said Effie to Annie, Katniss and Peeta, and they nodded. He could feel their eyes on him as they left the meadow.

The walk back to Victor's Village was silent, though Effie kept her hands firmly clutched in his. He was carrying Ash while Ava was in Effie's arms. She volunteered to bathe the children and get them ready for bed, and he didn't argue. Normally they shared parenting duties, but tonight….

An hour later Effie finally walked into their bedroom. She saw Haymitch at the window, the curtain still open, staring at the lingering lit lanterns. Effie walked up to him and slithered her way in front of him so that she could lean on him. Haymitch wrapped his arms around her again.

"That one, right there," Effie said, pointing to a random lantern. "Who's that one for?"

Haymitch rested his chin on top of her head. "That one's for Chaff."

He could feel Effie nodding. "He's in a better place, and he's much happier, Haymitch. He's free."

"I know."

Effie kissed him softly. "I'm going to shower." He could hear the invitation in her voice, but he just nodded. She disappeared into the bathroom and he waited until he heard the water running before making his way downstairs and into the kitchen.

He grabbed his phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Haymitch," she breathed.

"Yah, Sweetheart, it's me." There was silence on the other end for a little while. "You okay?"

"Yah," said Katniss softly. "You?"

He thought of Effie, in the shower, waiting for him. "I'm getting there."

There was silence on the other end for a while, until, "Dinner at our place tomorrow. Same time as usual."

For the first time in what felt like a week Haymitch smiled. "Looking forward to it." He was about to hang up when he heard Katniss call for him. "Yah?"

She hesitated on the other end of the line, briefly, then stated, "I'm glad Peeta and I didn't have to light a lantern for you tonight."

Haymitch felt the lump in his throat again but swallowed it down. "Goodnight, Sweetheart."

"Night."

Haymitch hung up the phone and went back upstairs to join his wife in the shower.

 _This was SO sad to me. Don't ask me why I wrote it. Excuse me while I ball my eyes out._


	183. Hating to Love

**HATING TO LOVE**

 **Rated T**

Effie walked into the Penthouse and stopped dead in her tracks. What was supposed to be an easy evening attempting to collect Sponsorships would turn out to be nothing of the sort. Her Victor had declared that he would be staying in tonight, and for once she didn't argue.

To have received a phone call from Seeder saying that they needed her after only a couple of hours was not how she had planned to finish out her night.

Now, however, she realized that they really _did_ need her.

Finnick was passed out on the floor.

"What happened?" she asked at once, rushing to his side. Effie hardly noticed Chaff, Haymitch, and Johanna. She bent down and immediately started checking for any bruising.

"Nothin' that concerns you," said Haymitch quite coldly. Effie sent him a glare. She knew he hadn't wanted Seeder to call her. She heard him complaining before Seeder had even hung up.

"He's drunk," Seeder said, also glaring at Haymitch, and Effie frowned.

"Finnick doesn't drink," stated Effie.

Seeder nodded. "I know."

Effie looked down at Finnick, who was currently sprawled out on the cold tile floor, face up. "Somebody help me turn him over. He could choke on his own vomit laying like this. Ideally I'd like to get him on the couch." She stared pointedly at Chaff and Haymitch.

Chaff immediately started moving towards Finnick. Haymitch reluctantly followed. Together they picked Finnick up and placed him on the couch, face down. Effie immediately headed towards the kitchen and grabbed a small trashcan, her heels echoing loudly against the silence of the room. After grabbing the trashcan, she made her way back to the living room, where the other Victors were all staring at Finnick somberly.

"What is going on?" asked Effie.

Before anyone answered Finnick moaned softly. Effie crouched down immediately, moving his hair away from his face.

"Finnick?"

"Effie?" His hazel eyes locked with her blue ones and Finnick immediately grabbed her. "Effie," he breathed, and she could smell the whiskey on his breath. His eyes fluttered closed but he kept his hand clutched around her arm. His grip was tight and Effie tried not to cringe.

"Finnick, talk to me."

"It hurts," was all he said, and Effie's heart lunged into her throat.

"What hurts?"

"Being a Victor."

Effie jerked harshly, and then immediately looked around. None of them looked at her, aside from Haymitch. Effie turned back to Finnick, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know," whispered Effie, brushing Finnick's cheek softly.

He looked at her again, his eyes bloodshot. "I messed up."

"How?"

"I fell."

Effie raised her eyebrows. "Finnick you are not making any sense. _Talk_ to me. How much did you have to drink?"

"A lot. Like… a ton. I just wanted to forget."

"Forget what?"

Finnick inhaled sharply and grabbed Effie. "Make the pain stop, Effie. Please."

"Finnick." He was broken, she realized, and she couldn't exactly stop the tears from falling, no matter how fast she blinked. She was a pro at holding back the tears. Every death, every mean and cruel thing Haymitch said to her, every heartbreak, every time her mother chastised her, whenever her colleagues excelled at something when she was made to feel less than… she had mastered keeping the tears at bay.

But seeing Finnick like this….

His grip was still tight so she twisted around and sat on the floor. His head rested on her shoulder.

"You shouldn't be on the floor. C'mere."

Effie didn't think twice about it. She sat up and Finnick sat up and turned around– slowly – until she sat down. He rested his head on her lap and Effie started playing in his hair.

"Tell me what's wrong, Finnick. You don't drink, and I am concerned."

Finnick took a deep breath. "I want to die."

Effie jerked. "Do not say that, Finnick. Whatever it is we can get through it. Talk to me," she requested, and for the time being, it was just her and Finnick.

"Annie," was all he said. Effie tilted her head, looking down at him.

"Annie?" Finnick nodded. Effie started going through names, trying to remember who Annie was. She only knew of one…. "Annie Cresta?" Finnick nodded again.

"What about her?"

"Love her," he stated, and that was all he needed to say. Everything clicked into place.

"Oh, Finnick…."

"Didn't mean to. Tried to stay away from her. Everyone says it was no good, no use. Don't get attached. But I did, Effie." His voice cracked at the end. "She deserves better."

"Finnick, there is no one on this earth better than you. Annie's lucky to have you."

"But… what about what I do?"

"You mean what Snow makes you do," Effie told him firmly. Finnick stayed quiet. "It won't matter to her, not if she's as special as I think she is. I think she's pretty special if you have fallen for her."

"Can't tell her, Effie. Can't. But not telling her is lying, and I don't wanna lie to her. But I can't tell her. I hate love."

Effie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "We will figure something out."

"What?"

Effie bit her lip. "I don't know, but we will figure it out. You just rest now, okay?" She continued to stroke his hair.

"Haymitch doesn't appreciate you," Finnick said after a few minutes of silence. Effie stiffened and stilled, her hand resting in his hair. "He doesn't. Sometimes he does, but not always. He's not a bad person, Effie. I wouldn't be friends with a bad person. He's just hard. Being a Victor makes you hard."

Effie cleared her throat, refusing to look at Haymitch. "You are very drunk, I think."

"I see you, Effie. I mean… not now. Well I see two of you, but… what I'm tryna say is I know you're sad. You're good at your job, and you feel unappreciated. Haymitch's a jerk, though. I wish you were my Escort. He doesn't see you like I see you."

Effie choked back a sob. "No one sees me like you do. If there were more Finnick's in the world, Panem would be a better place. Go to sleep now, okay?"

"Don't worry, Haymitch can't hear me. I'm whispering." Finnick attempted to wink at her. Then he looked at Haymitch, who still hadn't said much. "Right Effie? I'm whispering, right?" Effie forced a smile.

"Yes, you are whispering."

"Good. Then I should also tell you that you can do better than Seneca."

"Finnick." Effie's voice held a quiet warning.

"It's true. You can do a million times better. I think Haymitch is jealous and that's why he's so mean to you, but don't tell him I said that."

"Finn—"

"Sh," Finnick exclaimed, reaching up and placing his index finger on Effie's lips. "You should be able to be happy too. I know Seneca doesn't make you happy. _And_ I heard he's lousy in bed. Oh wait. You told me that." Finnick laughed and Effie blushed. "But don't worry. If you're gonna figure something out for me, I'll figure something out for you."

"You don't worry about me, okay?" Effie went back to soothingly brushing Finnick's locks. "Let's focus on you and Annie."

His face crumbled at the mention of Annie. "I didn't mean to love her. I messed up."

"There is nothing _messed up_ about loving someone."

"I _hate_ love. We can't be together. We can't have kids."

"I _know_ Victor's kids always go back into that Arena, Finnick, but—"

"There is no _but_ ," Haymitch finally said, and his voice was laced with contempt.

Effie scowled at Haymitch and turned back to Finnick. "But having children has nothing to do with falling in love. I am sure you both would like children, but it is a sacrifice you two will have to make. I don't think anything is too great a risk when it comes to love."

"I don't know how I got myself into this. I didn't even mean for it to happen. She crept up on me, Effie, I swear. She gives me butterflies, and she's all I think about, and I just wanna help her, only I can't even help myself. Have you ever felt like that?"

Effie took a long time to answer. She thought of Haymitch and how he made her feel, even as he hated her. She certainly hadn't meant to fall for him – she didn't even know _why_. But she certainly remembered how: a drunken night during the 60th Hunger Games. Twelve years was a long time to wait for a person to see the good in you.

"Yes," Effie finally stated. "You just be happy Annie loves you back."

Finnick nodded. "I don't know what to do. We'll figure something out tomorrow?"

"We will."

"Promise?"

Effie nodded. "I promise. Now will you _please_ go to sleep?"

"Kay." Finnick closed his eyes and Effie combed through his hair until his soft snores filled the Penthouse.

"Thank you, Effie," Seeder said softly.

"You are welcome," said Effie quietly. She kept her eyes on Finnick, even as Johanna left without a word. It was just her and Haymitch now, but Effie ignored his existence. She gently lifted Finnick's head and then smoothly slid from underneath him. Finnick let out a soft moan and Effie stilled, but he just sighed and shifted his head. She grabbed the blanket and placed it on top of him, and then made her way to her room.

She hadn't expected Haymitch to come into her room a little while later.

The first thing he noticed was that she was drinking. Not her little fruity drinks that would hardly make a fly buzzed, but the _real_ stuff. And she wasn't taking tentative sips, but pouring what looked like a double shot before throwing it back.

She was on her third one when he realized that she was definitely taking double shots.

"Slow down, Princess," he mumbled, finally stepping into her room.

She barely spared him a glance. "I'm Kettle, how are you, Pot?" Her voice was cold and had him frowning. "What do you want, Haymitch?"

He shrugged casually. "Nothin'. Jus wonderin' why Finnick seemed so comfortable in your lap, is all."

She jumped hard enough at the question that some of the liquor she'd just poured sloshed out onto her hand and dripped onto the floor. "What did you just say to me?"

She didn't give him a chance to repeat herself, and he wouldn't have even if the opportunity presented itself. Her voice had taken on that quiet, suppressed rage that she had reserved just for the seriously idiotic things he said.

The glass hurled near his head, close enough to realize her aim was good, but she was probably already feeling the drink. The glass shattered against the wall and before Haymitch could speak the bottle came flying near him next.

"Are you fucking _crazy_?" snapped Haymitch.

"You haven't seen crazy," Effie stated, and her eyes were blazing. "I get you don't know anything about me. Seventeen years of working together and you know _nothing_. But I would _never_ touch Finnick. He is my _friend_ , and I love him. And I do not need to hire anyone to satisfy me in that department, sex comes easily enough for me, thank you very much. Now get the hell out of my room, Haymitch."

"Effie—"

"Get _out_!"

Haymitch did as he was told, but not before Effie turned her back on him. He watched as she grabbed another glass and another bottle and poured herself another double.

* * *

The next day Finnick found Haymitch at the bar. After a couple of hours they left the party and headed back to the Penthouse, alone. Inside the Penthouse Finnick turned on the television, making sure its volume was up.

Finnick didn't beat around the bush. "I think your Escort's a Rebel."

Haymitch coughed up the liquor he was trying to drink and stared at Finnick, his eyes streaming. "Come again?"

"She's buying time with me so that I don't have to spend time with other women. It's almost like I'm off the market. I don't even know how much something like that cost, and it couldn't have been easy or cheap to pull this off. Do you know how much I'm worth? She had to double that amount in order to buy me for a year. What she's doing is illegal, Haymitch. She created several fake accounts and false identities so that no one would catch on, but I'm booked for the entire year, and it's all Effie."

Haymitch stayed quiet for a long time. "That's dangerous," he finally said.

Finnick nodded. "Yah, it is. I owe her. Which is why I wanted to talk to you." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "You don't know Effie. At all. I suggest you get to know her, because you're missing out on a great woman. She's not who you think she is. She's unhappy as your Escort and Effie is the only reason you're alive. She takes care of you, and for that you owe her. She doesn't want anything from you, but she needs you to be nice every now and then."

"I like you Finnick, but you're butting in where you're not needed."

"Effie put in a transfer request." Haymitch kept his face blank. "She did it after your little comment last night." Haymitch sighed. "She didn't want to tell me. She made me promise it wouldn't affect our friendship, and I agreed, but that was before she told me what you said. She cried for an hour. I told Effie last night that you weren't a bad person, but I'm not sure if I believe that anymore. You need to get your shit together, Haymitch."

At that moment Effie walked into the Penthouse. She stopped when she saw them. Finnick flashed her a smile and she smiled back and then made her way to her room.

"I have to go. It's late. I'll see you later, Haymitch." Finnick left and Haymitch sat there for a few moments before getting up and making his way to Effie's.

"What you're doin' is dangerous," he said without preamble.

Effie sighed. "What do you care? You probably hope Snow will find out and I'll die in the process."

"Don't _say_ that. You're a pain in my ass but I don't want you _dead_. What do you take me for?"

"The tin man without a heart," Effie deadpanned.

For some reason that hurt him, so he remained quiet and watched as Effie poured herself a drink. She grabbed another glass and offered it to him.

"Is it laced with poison?"

"You would deserve it if it was."

Haymitch took the drink. "Yah, I would." He took a large sip and stared at Effie. "I'm sorry, okay? For everything. I won't say it again, so take it for what it is."

Effie stared at him for several moments. "Apology accepted."

He started to leave but his mouth worked before his brain. "I hate you with Seneca. I don't feel like the thought of referring to you as Effie _Crane_ every time we get into an argument."

Effie blinked at him. "So you've treated me so coldly for the past three years because I started a relationship with Seneca?"

"I treated you coldly for three years because you _stayed_ in a relationship with Seneca. You're smarter than that and deserved better, and I don't know what the hell you see in him. And rumor has it the sex is bad." He sounded awfully smug about that.

"The sex is bad because no Capitol compares to you." The admission had her frowning and she stared at her glass instead of him.

"If the sex was so good you wouldn't have started up with Crane."

"If you weren't afraid to love I'd never have started up with Seneca. I understand it started as just sex with us, but that is not how I was built. I knew you only wanted a physical relationship, it was my fault for wanting more, but for someone who wanted nothing to do with me you were quite angry that I was moving on."

"I didn't _say_ I only wanted a physical relationship—"

"You didn't have to," interrupted Effie. "You are not into me, Haymitch, I understand that—"

"I'm not into _anybody_. The Capitol takes things from people, Effie. It'd be stupid to get involved with you. You have no idea the efforts I go through to keep you protected."

"The only thing you _protect_ , Haymitch, is your heart, to stop yourself from loving anybody other than—" She stopped short of saying Nova's name, but it was on the tip of her tongue. He inhaled sharply and narrowed his eyes at her. "This is a pointless argument. It will change nothing. I called off my engagement to Seneca."

His eyes traveled down to her dainty fingers, and he noticed that her ring finger was empty.

"Why?"

"Because the marriage would be a sham. I do not love Seneca, nor am I happy. Finnick was right about those things. Besides, marrying Seneca didn't feel right after what Finnick is going through."

"I coulda told you that you shouldn't marry him. You've been engaged for two years. You've been putting it off." Effie stayed quiet and Haymitch stared at her. "Why is that?"

"It does not matter, Haymitch." She would not tell him that she was waiting on him. When he'd found out she was with Seneca he had become cruel and had given her the cold shoulder, and she'd taken that as proof that he cared about her, only he never did anything about it.

She ended up stuck in an engagement and situation that she wasn't happy in.

"Effie," sighed Haymitch.

"Goodnight, Haymitch," Effie stated firmly.

He left, but he wasn't used to doing what he was told, so he barged back into her room and took her against her vanity. She'd trembled and welcomed her first orgasm in three years, and he was lost at the way she was whispering his name.

He slept over that night. It wasn't their first time falling to sleep in bed together, but he'd never pulled her to the bed and forced her to practically fall on top of him. He then wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck.

"Cancel the transfer," he told her.

"I don't—"

"I nearly lost you to another man, I'm not about to lose you to another District."

She thought it was the closest thing she'd ever get to him admitting he had feelings for her. It wasn't enough, but it would do. Besides, he would have to sign off on the transfer, and now that he told her to cancel, he wouldn't do it.

"You wouldn't have gotten me to sign," and sometimes she wondered how he didn't realize how into her he was when he could read her mind.

"I'd have waited until you were drunk and told you we had gotten a Sponsorship that needed your signature. I have done it enough in the past."

He stayed silent for a long time, probably thinking about how sneaky she could have been. "I'm never getting that drunk around you again."

She laughed and gave herself to him again, because they had missed each other, at least that much was obvious, and he fell asleep with his body pressed to hers.

When he woke up, she was gone.

It didn't take long for her to cancel her transfer request, and she didn't regret it too much. He'd asked her to stay, and that was all she would get. She'd have to live with that and move on.

As she signed the paper work officially stating she no longer wanted to be transferred, she couldn't help but think that sometimes she really _hated_ love.

 _Put Effie and Seneca together later than usual. Not sure why._

 _So apparently I'm slightly obsessed with the fact that Annie and Finnick were a thing even though he was a prostitute… I just think Finnick hated that, and I wanted to touch on how he'd deal with that._


	184. The Lunch Meeting

**THE LUNCH MEETING**

 **Rated M**

Sex with them had always been consistent. At least for the past thirteen years, after that fateful night of the 60th Hunger Game when they'd gotten drunk together and woken up not only naked but wrapped around each other.

Sex was definitely consistent.

 _Frequent_ was another matter all together.

What started off as a one-time thing turned into a once a year thing to an after every fight thing to how good one of them looked that night thing to an as often as humanly – and sometimes inhumanly – as they could have each other thing.

The issue was more so that it was good sex. _Great_ sex, actually. If the other was lousy at it then they could tell each other no. But the two of them together was… explosive seemed too tame a word.

Even that first night, when they were both long passed being sober, the sex had been amazing. Her body had responded to his in ways neither of them had imagined were possible, and it made his body react in ways that weren't exactly human.

At one point once a year was enough.

Until it wasn't.

Haymitch wasn't sure when it started happening so frequently. Somewhere around the 65th or the 66th Hunger Game he presumed. Suddenly it wasn't just after a fight or a night they were both drunk or after their Tributes had died. It had turned into every excuse imaginable, including those things.

They had gone from never talking about it to practically planning it.

It had gotten to the point that they stopped making excuses.

They didn't even have to argue anymore.

Sometimes it was just a look, or being in each other's presence for too long.

It was a mixture of both today.

It was the first day and they were supposed to be meeting with a Sponsor, and then she had a _lunch date_ , so she'd worn this hot red little number that was much too short and had shown too much cleavage.

They didn't make it to their Sponsor meeting, and he'd make sure that she wouldn't make it to her lunch date either.

He hoped he was fucking away her memory of the bastard.

With the way she was currently screaming his name it certainly seemed like it.

Effie Trinket wasn't the least bit _shy_ in bed.

At all.

She was demanding and had no problem vocalizing what it is she wanted, and he took it as a challenge to bring her to climax not just once or twice but multiple times.

He'd learned her body well enough over the years. Her likes, her dislikes, how to make her beg, how to make her cry, how to make her scream.

She didn't give a damn about being proper or much of lady.

Especially their first time together after a year apart.

She spread her legs, arched her back, and gave herself to him, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. It was always rough and she always took it, and her orgasms were brutal and often left her exhausted, satisfied, and coming back for more.

Unabashedly, and unashamed.

He couldn't say that she didn't do the same to and for him.

Today was _different_. He was feeling possessive, and it definitely wasn't the first time. Effie Trinket was _still_ a hot commodity, the Capitol worshipped the ground she walked on, and she still left men panting and hungry. She had claimed that she wasn't seeing anyone else, it was a discussion they had at least once a year, particularly after he'd watched her flirt and dance with other men at a Capitol party, but it was hard to tell figuring they only spent a few weeks together out of the year.

The fact that she'd claimed she was meeting someone for lunch had left him frazzled, and he'd pulled her from the living room and drug her into her own room and was currently banging her brains out. The thought of her with another man had rubbed him the wrong way, so he was unforgiving in the way his mouth assaulted her body and he pounded into her with the ferocity of a thousand District gods.

He'd _missed_ her, he'd realized, and the fact that she could meet with someone else… that she could mention it so casually like it wasn't a knife to his bloody _heart_ … he shouldn't even be dicking her down like this.

He'd long ago ripped her dress – if she was going to meet with some other man, she wouldn't be doing so in _that_ – and her complaint had been swallowed in her throat the minute he'd pushed himself into her.

Now she was quivering beneath him, one leg in the air, the other leg wrapped around his waist, begging him for more and to never stop. He'd lost track of how many orgasms she'd had, and she clung on to him with same strength she always did as her hips met his.

She was _loud_ , she was always loud, and he was relishing in the noise she was making, knowing he was making similar sounds, though he couldn't really hear himself.

He wouldn't be able to last much longer, he knew, and even though her lunch meeting was long over he still thought he might teach her a lesson or two and make sure she couldn't walk straight for a few weeks. Gripping the headboard to balance himself he went in deeper, violently so.

She gasped, and whether it was from shock or pleasure he couldn't tell. She tended to be mild at the beginning, until the orgasm started building, and he could always tell how close she was by how loud she was.

That gasp thing he hadn't quite figured out, but he knew it'd cause her to combust like never before. Sure enough a few seconds later she was screaming and clenching around him, and he released, the pleasure almost unbearable as he came.

She was left breathless and collapsed, pulling him down on top of her and bringing her lips to his.

They were kissing a lot more now.

Used to be a time they didn't do that.

Hell there used to be a time he wouldn't have been jealous.

He could feel her heart pounding underneath him. Her body was still tense from the orgasm and he could feel her slowly starting to relax. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling sharply. She smelled like a mixture of vanilla, peaches, and sweat.

Not to mention him.

It was his favorite scent on her.

"I missed you," she murmured, her hands trailing down his back in a move that was definitely intimate.

He didn't mind it at all.

Not anymore.

"Did you?" He tried to snarl but her admission had him feeling good.

"I always miss you." The statement was quiet, and he knew she was still insecure about being open with him. They didn't exactly have _pillow_ talk, but lately things had been slipping. Mix great sex with good booze and slip-ups happened _a lot_.

They weren't drunk this time, but once again, he didn't mind.

"Looks like we missed our Sponsorship meeting," said Haymitch, his tongue darting out and licking the bruised skin on her neck. She wouldn't be happy with that, but if she rescheduled her lunch she'd be forced to wear a turtleneck.

" _And_ my lunch meeting!" She sat up suddenly. "Damn you, Haymitch, that meeting was important." Haymitch frowned as she got out of bed. "My dress is _ruined_."

"Pity," snarled Haymitch, and she turned to him at his tone, arching an eyebrow. He ignored her and reached over to her bar cart, grabbing the first thing he got his hands on. "And who exactly is your lunch date with?"

"It is not a _date_ , Haymitch," stated Effie, walking towards her closet.

He froze. "What?"

"It was a business meeting." She disappeared into her closet for a few minutes and reappeared with a gold dress. She wouldn't be able to wear that one either, but she didn't know that. She walked back towards the bed, grabbing her wig.

"A business meeting?" prompted Haymitch, trying to sound casual.

"Yes," Effie answered distractedly as she walked to the bathroom. "His name is Cinna and he's an up and coming designer. He's interested in being our new stylist."

Haymitch felt himself breathing properly for the first time.

That is until Effie screeched and appeared in her bathroom doorframe, glaring daggers at him. " _What_ is the meaning of all these marks on my neck, Haymitch Abernathy?"

Haymitch grinned sheepishly. "I thought you said you were going on a lunch date."

Effie blinked at him. "Oh my God. You were _jealous_."

"Was not," he lied.

"You _were_. _That's_ why this time was so…." Her voice trailed off and she touched her hair, turning red slightly. What he did to her body was okay in the moment, but afterwards, suddenly it wasn't so proper anymore.

"What? What was it?" His voice had already taken on its usual husk, the 'I'm about to do you' tone that always sent shivers up and down her spine.

"Do not even think about it. You do not get rewarded for thinking I would cheat on you."

"We're not in a relationship."

She glared at him. "As you try and remind me every time we are together."

He got out of bed and walked towards her. "You're clingy."

"And you are possessive and jealous."

"And I want you all the time."

"But we are not in a relationship," she deadpanned. By this time he'd approached her, his hands making their way to her hips.

"But we're exclusive."

"Since when?" Effie tilted her head to the side.

"Since you went on that date with Seneca six years ago to see if you still had feelings for him."

Effie rolled her eyes. "I did _not_ go on a _date_ with Seneca. He was the liaison between Escorts and President Snow, and we had to meet—"

"I _know_ who he was, it was a political move and he'll probably be Head Gamekeeper next year. You could have met with his secretary, but he asked for you and you went running."

Effie sighed. "If it makes you feel any better I kept asking myself what I ever saw in him." Haymitch nibbled on her neck. "Not to mention you gave me a _thorough_ dicking down before I left, which now that I am talking about it, reminds me of exactly what you did today. I could hardly concentrate in the meeting. But you do not have to worry about Seneca, and especially Cinna, he is much too young, and I prefer old Victors who are current _Rebels_." She mouthed the word Rebel.

"So you could get with Chaff?"

"Please. I said old, not ancient."

"Chaff and I are the same age," Haymitch said dryly.

Effie sighed. "I like men with both of their hands. The better to please me with."

He sucked on her collarbone until she let out a soft moan, and then he was inside of her again, lazily moving in and out of her as she clung to him. After her first orgasm he slammed her down on the sink until she came again, and he followed closely behind.

"I do love you jealous, Darling," purred Effie.

"I think you just love me." He pulled out of her, noting that she kept her face completely guarded.

"If I loved you, you would runaway and never return." She gently pushed him away, and he didn't bother to correct her assumption. He'd be _blind_ not to see that she loved him, and she hid it well for the most part, only studying people was what he did best.

After drinking.

And sex with his Escort.

"Since this lunch isn't a date, tell this Cinna fellow it's my fault for you having to cancel. Tell him I urgently needed you, and that you can't stay long because I'll need you again, really soon." He kissed her, softly, contrasting everything they'd just done, as a way to let her know that she wasn't alone in her feelings.

He finally got dressed and left to his own room.

Effie held in her smile until he was gone.

That man was going to be the death of her.


	185. The Color of Friendship

_Title taken from that Disney Channel Original Movie, though this one-shot has NOTHING to do with that movie. It's just a play on words._

 **THE COLOR OF FREINDSHIP**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch watched Effie out of the corner of his eye. She was frowning at her food, taking timid bites, but at least she was eating, which was more than he could say about himself. His appetite still hadn't fully returned.

He took in her appearance, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at her, but it didn't take long before her Capitol eyes flickered up to his. His reflexes were slow and he couldn't look away quick enough, so their eyes locked.

He told himself to look away, but he kept his eyes glued to hers long enough to realize that a fair amount of pink started to cover her cheeks before she finally downcast her eyes back to her tray of food. She quickly finished her plate and then stood up and left.

He watched her walk away, and he realized something was… off. He couldn't quite figure it out, but something about her was bothering him.

Later that night Haymitch snuck into her room, like he found himself doing all the time. Effie stirred and then sat up.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said softly.

"Don't I always?"

She slid out of bed, turning on her desk lamp. "How was Command?"

"A pain in the ass, like always. We talked to Commander Paylor, though, so that's that. They'll probably send Katniss to 8 soon." Effie inhaled sharply. "She'll be fine, Princess. She's the Mockingjay, remember?"

"Will you go with her?"

"I doubt it. She and I aren't…."

Effie reached out and gently brushed the stubble on his chin. "You two need to go ahead and makeup. I don't like seeing you at odds."

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "She has every right to be mad at me. We shoulda got the boy out. She's… _lost_ without him. I've never seen her like this."

"I think she's more angry at herself." Haymitch just looked at her. "She was not supposed to care for him, you know. It's easier when you don't care. She went into that Arena last year prepared to kill him, and then she entered that Quell prepared to die for him. She's angry with herself because she didn't know she felt that way about him, and had to lose him in order to get it. I think it's much easier to blame you than herself."

"Still don't make it any easier," mumbled Haymitch.

"No…. No, I suppose not."

Haymitch continued to look at Effie, taking her in. She looked… grey. Bland. Sad, even. She stared at him politely, a gentle smile on her face, but it was forced, and slightly strained.

"Are you that unhappy here, Princess?"

"I just miss home, Haymitch." Her voice was quiet, yet he flinched as if she'd assaulted him.

"How can you still miss that place? You _know_ what it is."

Her eyes frosted over. "Don't you hate 12? It's like a graveyard, right? But don't tell me you don't miss it, Haymitch. I know you do. Please allow me the same courtesy. I don't… I don't _belong_ here."

He wanted to argue with her, but she was right. He took in her appearance again, and he remembered how he'd felt as if something was off earlier. Now he knew: Effie Trinket didn't belong in grey. Despite the fact that he hated the wigs and costumes she just wasn't _Effie_ without them.

He couldn't decide if that that bothered him or not.

"It's late. I need to get to bed. Try and get some sleep, will you?"

"You too," Effie said gently.

 **XxXxXx**

"I believe that concludes the briefing on the trip to 8," Coin stated, straightening her papers. "I know you all are probably tired. Go ahead and get some rest. And remember, Katniss is not to be disturbed." She rose, and so did everybody else. Haymitch nodded to Plutarch and made his way out of Command, picturing the glorious quarters that held his bed.

"Haymitch."

Haymitch stopped at the sound of the voice and turned to find himself faced with Boggs.

Up until recently Haymitch didn't really have an opinion on Boggs. Seeing him shield Katniss with his own body, though, definitely had Haymitch's wheels turning. He was supposed to be loyal to Coin, but perhaps his loyalties were with the Mockingjay.

If that were the case, Haymitch had no issue with the man.

"Paylor wanted me to give you something," Boggs stated. He looked around briefly and then reached into his pocket. "She gave this to me before the attack and said that you would know what it was for."

Haymitch looked at the pink ribbon and instantly grabbed it, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"Thanks," Haymitch nodded. "If you talk to Paylor again before I do, tell her thank your for me."

Haymitch turned to walk away when Boggs said, "I hope it cheers her up, but I don't think it's a good idea to have her openly display it."

Haymitch stopped and turned to stare at Boggs, sizing him up. "I'll keep that in mind," Haymitch finally said, and Boggs nodded and left.

Haymitch made his way to Effie's room, sliding the doors open. She wasn't asleep, but standing at her vanity, her eyes bloodshot.

His heart sank.

"She's fine, Effie," sighed Haymitch. "She had a little scare, but she's fine. Nothing can happen to Katniss. You _know_ that. You helped design her suit."

"I'm still scared for her, Haymitch! And they wouldn't even let me _see_ her."

Haymitch sighed again. "I'll make sure you're allowed to visit. Now calm down. I have something for you."

Effie blinked at him, clearly surprised.

"Don't ask what I had to do to get this for you." He dug into his pocket and handed her the pink ribbon, thrusting it harshly in her hand. She gripped it, staring at it for several moments.

"Where did you get this?" she whispered.

"Where do you think?"

Effie fingered the satin. "I know District 8 textile when I see it." She looked at him. "Why are you giving this to me?"

Haymitch huffed. "Because you don't belong in this uniform, Princess. You're a Rebel at heart, but you still like pretty things. You're sad here, and I don't like seeing you sad. So you can… I don't know, tie it around your hair or something before you put on your headscarf. _You'll_ know it's there, and maybe it'll bring you—"

Her lips cut him off, and suddenly he was melting into her. He held her with ease, kissing her back almost immediately.

"It's the most beautiful ribbon I've ever seen," she finally breathed.

He snorted. "It's a _ribbon_."

"It's a ribbon from _you_. That's gift enough." She was already tying it behind her hair. "I will keep it with me forever."

He wanted to make fun of her, but he was currently carrying around a certain gold bangle in his pocket because _she_ had given it to him, so he figured he didn't have much room to talk.

She gave him another soft kiss, and he thought he might risk everything to bring her pretty things if she kept that up. This wasn't going to end well, he knew, and he was definitely in _deep shit_ , but for now he didn't care. They were at war, and he was feeling reckless, and he'd risked it all for her once, so why not again?

There was no price for friendship, he told himself as he stole another kiss.

And as he walked back towards his room, a _stupid_ smile on his face, he realized there was no color for friendship either.


	186. Time to Come Home

_Had to do a prequel to Welcome Home (Chapter 23)._

 **TIME TO COME HOME**

 **Rated M**

A loud crash had her startling awake. She gasped and looked around. A loud curse had her getting out of bed and leaving the guestroom. She fled down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen, where she found Haymitch on the floor, a broken bottle next to him. She could barely make him out in the early morning darkness.

"Haymitch," she whispered, quickly approaching him. She bent down. "What are you doing?"

"Doin' what I do best, Princess," slurred Haymitch. "Gettin' drunk."

Effie frowned. "Haymitch you have to stop this."

"Can't. That's why it's called an addiction."

"Yes you _can_ ," she hissed. "You've done it before." She tried to help him up but he resisted. She continued to try. "Come _on_ , Haymitch."

"Damn it Effie, just leave me alone to die."

Effie stiffened and stared at the figure before her. "You don't get to _die_. You don't get to take the easy way out, damn it."

Now it was his turn to stiffen. With great effort he turned his head so that he could look at her. "You remember that?"

"Yes I do," she said rather sternly. "If I had to live after you rescued me from that cell, then so do you. You saved me. Now let me help save you."

He shook his head. "I didn't save you. I left you. I should have done a better job of making sure you'd be safe. Then you wouldn't have been taken."

"Haymitch we've been through this—"

"I destroy things, Effie. Look around. Look at how I live." Effie took in the broken bottles and broken furniture, the dirty kitchen, the stench. "Think about how many families I've destroyed. I couldn't even help Peeta and Katniss. They've been takin' care of me, til you showed up on my doorstep six months ago. You should leave." Effie stopped breathing. "You should leave before I destroy you too. Before I destroy you anymore than I already have. I'm broken. And in turn, I break things."

"You're not broken, Haymitch," snapped Effie. "You're a coward." Her voice was cold. "You drink because it's easier than facing your mistakes. It's easier to turn to a bottle than face your demons. But if I have to live with the guilt, then so do you. My job was worse than yours. Isn't that what you used to tell me?" Sure he had. Before he knew she was a plant.

He sighed and slowly stood up. He swayed as he looked at her. "Go home, Effie." He turned and stumbled to his cupboard, grabbing another bottle of alcohol. He blinked at her when she snatched it away from him and threw it on the ground. "Hey!" Haymitch protested.

"This _is_ my home," yelled Effie, and then she grabbed another bottle. "And _this_?" She pointed to the bottle. "This stops _now_." And she smashed that one to the ground too. She was on her third bottle when Haymitch finally reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"It's nice to see you're no longer the walking dead. I mean somewhere in the sober part of my mind I appreciate the fact that this is the first glimpse of the real Effie Trinket I've encountered since you've been here. But don't _fucking_ push your luck, Trinket."

She stared at him, and then purposely dropped the bottle in her hand.

He roared and pushed her against the table, and suddenly they were close. So close. _Too_ close. Her breath heightened as he got in her face, a snarl on his countenance. He smelled like liquor and his eyes were wild and bloodshot. He was angry, but that was just too bad, because so was she. They were both breathing hard, their chests heaving, and just like that, it switched. It was almost erotic. A familiar warmth spread its way in between her thighs.

When his eyes darted down to her lips, she knew he felt it too.

This time was much like their first time, when he'd still been angry at Katniss' surgeons for trying to alter her, and he'd gotten back to the Penthouse and had taken it out on Effie. They'd fought, probably more so out of exhaustion, and she'd yelled at him to just _shut up_ because they were on the same _bloody_ team.

It took him a few minutes to make out what she was _really_ saying—that she was a Rebel, just like him, a spy, and he'd been so confused he just laughed until he couldn't breathe. She hadn't taken that too lightly, and then she was back to the Effie Trinket he knew, and was in his face, and pushing his buttons, and then suddenly they were too close to each other.

Somehow they made it to her bedroom, where she'd left him aching for her as she disappeared for a few moments. She came back, a condom in her hand, mumbling something about stealing it from Cinna.

He was blind with lust by the time he'd finally gotten to her, and it was the most incredible thing he'd ever experienced, even if it was years' worth of frustration and anger and resentment being taken out on each other.

This time was no different. He lifted her onto the table, grateful they didn't have to worry about things like cameras, and making too much noise. He shoved her robe aside, lifting her nightdress up as she pulled down his pants, and then he was inside of her, in one swift, practiced motion.

He still knew her body. He'd learned it while Katniss and Peeta were in Recovery for a week. After that first time, and finding out that she _wasn't_ a Capitol drone, he found he couldn't keep his hands off of her, especially once he saw her without her wig and makeup. He'd been starving for human contact, he realized, and suddenly, for the first time ever, he was experiencing a different kind of Hunger Game.

By the time they were on their way back to 12, with winners on the train, he knew the ins and outs of her body. Every inch.

He took the familiar route and waited for her body to respond, which it did, immediately. She hooked her legs around him, pushing him in deeper, and cried out, clenching around him. He quickly followed.

They both slid to the floor, utterly spent.

"That was way better than any alcohol," he breathed.

Effie smiled softly and moved his hair out of his face. "I found him, Haymitch," whispered Effie. Their eyes locked, and he stilled.

He got better after that. They both did. If he was going to be a father, he needed to get his shit together. He stopped drinking. Effie moved into his bedroom. He cleaned himself up, and their house. They redecorated. He married her.

As the years passed she always brought him news from the Capitol. She visited Ash, every weekend, but he never went with her. As Ash got older she started bringing him pictures that their son had drawn, most of them of hovercrafts.

He didn't put them on the fridge, but had them framed, and put in their bedroom.

Haymitch started writing letters, and Ash would respond. Clearly he was brilliant.

"You should come with me," she told him one day, her bags packed. "He needs to meet you. He's _ready_ to meet you. He's getting older. The letters will only go so far. He needs his father."

Haymitch shook his head. "If that's the case, then you can bring him home." She looked stunned. "We're safe. _He's_ safe. I mean as safe as we're gonna get. Bring him home. In fact… don't come back without him."

She'd burst into tears at that, crying for an hour. She missed her train, and Haymitch walked her to the station to get her another ticket. He could still see tears in her eyes as she waved goodbye.

He never told her that he hadn't meant to say those words, and he never would tell her. But he was glad he spoke them. It _was_ time. It passed time for Ash to come home.


	187. Florence Nightingale Syndrome

**FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE SYNDROME**

 **Rated T**

Johanna sat at the table, slightly annoyed at the entire situation. She'd come here to escape for a few days, drink to her heart's content, and hopefully get laid by a random stranger or two. She just needed to be around adults who didn't necessarily have responsibilities, so she'd kissed Finn goodbye and told Annie she'd be back in a week, only the odds didn't seem to be in her favor.

People were still _healing_ here in Twelve.

Katniss still spent days locked in her own head, Peeta still had flashbacks, and Haymitch… well Haymitch was sober and acting all responsible, and he was being ten times the man he had been in Thirteen.

She blamed Trinket.

Trinket, who had knocked on Haymitch's door about a year ago, just as broken and battered as the rest of them, if not more so, because she was Capitol and wasn't used to pain and heartache. She hadn't been made to rebound from the kind of torture she'd received in that Capitol cell, so she'd been on a downward spiral of self-destruction before she crawled her way to Twelve asking Haymitch to help her, and suddenly Haymitch Abernathy, drunk extraordinaire, had to straighten up and fly right if he was going to help Effie.

His _Escort_.

Johanna hadn't known any of this when she'd gotten here. They'd kept the fact that Effie was in Twelve a secret for an entire year. Johanna had barged into the house, declaring that Haymitch better not have had drank all his damn liquor, and found herself stunned stupid at the sight of Haymitch and Effie making _breakfast_ … _together_.

The trip had gone downhill from there.

It didn't take her long to see that Haymitch was sober and that he wasn't just out of liquor, but wouldn't be getting anymore. He'd been truly sober for three whole weeks, Effie had been lowering his dosage for the past year, and finally he'd _kicked the habit_ , and _isn't that wonderful, Johanna_?

Effie couldn't have been prouder, but this wasn't what Johanna had signed up for.

Nor did she sign up for the two of them to stare into each other eyes and finish each other's sentences, or worse, have entire conversations with each other without even opening their mouths.

It was walking in on them hugging, or his hands on her hips, or her arms around his waist.

It was _sickening_.

She'd had her suspicions about the two of them during the Games. She hadn't known them long. She'd only been a member of the crew for a few years before it all went to _shit_ , and Chaff, Finnick, and Seeder had assured her that nothing was going on between Effie and Haymitch. She had had her doubts then, but there was nothing left to doubt now.

The only thing that those two hadn't done was screw each other's brains out yet. Johanna had the sneaky suspicion that if any of that was going on, all of Twelve would know, because Effie's voice was annoying, loud, and carried.

Johanna knew that first hand having been in that cell with her, and not to mention that Effie still had her fair share of nightmares. Johanna had woken up quite a few times to Effie screaming at the top of her lungs – and Haymitch's glare that first night had let her know that it was probably her unannounced visit that had caused the nightmare.

Johanna had actually made the mistake of running to Effie's room, intent on comforting the Capitol, only Haymitch had reached her room first, and was already in bed _cuddling_ with her when Johanna arrived.

She'd been dumbfounded and then disgusted.

She didn't bother trying to comfort Trinket anymore after that.

Clearly she had Haymitch for that.

 _Obviously_.

They hadn't slept together before.

That changed last night.

They'd given her the courtesy of attempting to be quiet, only they forgot about his headboard banging against the wall _all night long_ , and even if she had been able to sleep through it she'd have known from how relaxed Haymitch looked and by how much Effie was glowing the next morning.

They were acting like fucking _teenagers_ , stealing glances at each other, and giving each other soft smiles. They kept _touching_ each other, and giggling, and she was pretty sure they were playing _footsies_ under the table.

It was maddening.

Finally having had enough she got up rather abruptly, annoyed beyond reason, and stalked outside, slamming the door behind her. It didn't take long for Haymitch to join her on the porch. She wasn't surprised. He sat down next to her, a mug of coffee in his hand, and stared out at the neighbor's front yard, both of them remaining silent for awhile.

"I didn't mean to fall for her," Haymitch finally stated, and she shuddered.

"I don't want to fucking talk about it," stated Johanna.

"Well that's too bad, cus you're gonna listen. She's _different_ , Jo. She's not who you think she is."

"Did she fucking pick the names or not?"

Haymitch turned to look at her, his eyes blazing. "You don't know her like I do."

" _That's_ a fucking relief."

Haymitch looked away from Johanna and frowned, his thumb brushing his mug for a few moments. "She used to buy time with Finnick, after he'd fallen for Annie." Johanna stiffened. "She didn't want him being unfaithful if he could help it. What she was doing was illegal. If Snow had ever found out, she'd be dead. _That's_ who I fell for."

Johanna shook her head. "Is that supposed to make up for everything else? For all those kids?"

Haymitch sighed. "I'm not gonna argue with you, Jo. I don't know what your problem is, other than the fact that you can't be happy for anyone, but you're being quite a _bitch_ and it's annoying, even for you."

"Do you really think she loves you?" Haymitch jerked at the question. "She's using you. She's _Capitol_. What the fuck does she know about love?" Haymitch breathed in deeply. "You ever heard of Florence Nightingale Syndrome? In your case it's probably Knight in Shining Armor Syndrome." Haymitch felt his heart drop down to his stomach. "It's when a person falls for someone who saved them. You found your Escort in that cell, took her out of that place. She doesn't love _you_. She loves what you did for her."

"Do you want to know what is incorrect about that theory, Johanna?" Both Haymitch and Johanna jumped at the sound of Effie's voice. They both turned to look at her, and Haymitch felt his mouth go dry. She was pissed, he could tell. "It means I'd have to also be in love with Katniss, for granting me immunity. She saved my life more so than Haymitch did."

"Effie," tried Haymitch, but she shot him a look.

"I have been in love with Haymitch since the 63rd Hunger Game. If you want to get truly technical I have loved him since the first time I saw him on my television screen as a thirteen-year old girl. So for your theory to have any merit whatsoever, it would imply that I was not already in love with Haymitch, which is not exactly the case."

Johanna made to say something, but Effie narrowed her eyes, which had Johanna shutting up.

"I understand you more than you think. I get why you are really here. Everything is different, right? Everyone you have loved and known is gone. You were part of a team when the Games were still on, correct? It was you, Finnick, Chaff, Haymitch, Seeder. Mags, when she could make it. And the people you loved the most are dead. You thought you would come here, see Haymitch, drink like old times, because that is what you were used to. I am sorry to have come here and changed things."

"You're not a fucking shrink, Trinket, so just shut the fuck up."

" _Language_. I do not take well to being talked about like we didn't share the same cell. You have no right. I want you out of my house."

"Effie." She barely spared Haymitch a glance.

"I want you to pack your things, and get out. You are not welcome here. I am sure Peeta or Katniss have more than enough room to house you and your bad attitude."

* * *

Haymitch walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"Since the 63rd Games?" asked Haymitch. He wondered how he hadn't picked up on it then. He had only started suspecting by the 65th. By the 69th he was sure.

By the 71st he was as into her as she was into him.

She ignored him and he approached her. "You're upset."

"You _believed_ her," hissed Effie. "Not for long. But at first you believed that the only reason I loved you was because you rescued me."

He couldn't deny it, so he remained silent.

"That is _really_ annoying, Haymitch."

She scowled at him and tried to walk passed him but he grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. "I'm sorry, okay? Let's call it temporary insanity."

She poked out her lip and he held in a grin. She could be so adorable sometimes, when she wasn't working his last nerve, which was rare. He bent down and kissed her.

"Jo's a pain in the ass, but she's my pain in the ass. I won't let her talk bad about you again, but I don't want you kicking her out, either. She really is the only one I have left. You weren't wrong in that. We're all each other have."

Effie sighed and slipped out of his embrace. "I understand that she is your friend. Only two people as _rude_ and _insufferable_ as you two would end up being kindred spirits." Haymitch snorted. "She can stay, I but I do not intend to continue to take her insults. I am not up for playing host anymore, either."

He reached out for her and pulled her close again. "I'll deal with Jo, okay? She was outta line, and I'd have told her that if you hadn't just given her a thorough dressing down."

" _You_ better not be thinking about her undressing or dressing _ever_. I still remember that elevator incident."

Haymitch cackled out a laugh. "I adore you, Princess." He kissed her, hard, his fingers digging into her hips, until his own body started to respond. He thought about a quickie but she pushed him away.

"Later," she told him, and he nodded, refusing to whine and scream, which is what he really wanted to do. "I suppose I owe Johanna an apology."

"You don't owe her shit. She was outta line, and this is your house. She'll get over it or she'll get gone." She rested her head against his chest. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

It bothered him a little, he realized, that the first time she actually admitted to loving him she had told it to someone else. Granted he was there, but it wasn't the same.

"Because I was unsure if you ever wanted to hear it. The Haymitch I know has been afraid of commitment for quite some time, and I did not want to scare you."

He snorted. "Let's see, you live with me, you've cleaned and redecorated my _entire_ house, you tell me what to do, you pick out my clothes… if that ain't love then you're stupid, and I don't know what else is it could be."

Her breath hitched, just a little, but she kept herself composed. He wouldn't say it often, she knew, it might be the only time he ever did, and she would accept it.

Haymitch made his way to the door when Effie called out for him.

"I may not be a victim of Florence Nightingale Syndrome, but I do consider you my knight in shining armor, just so you know."

He gave her his signature smirk, trying not to look too pleased or too touched. "Why do you think I call you Princess?" He winked at her and left Effie with a smile on her face.


	188. Haymitch the Stylist

_I absolutely LOVE the show The Real because I ALWAYS tend to get inspired from them. They mentioned during Girl Chat that a woman let her boyfriend dress her for a week straight so that she could see how HE saw her though his eyes, and so that she could be a little more secure. Her goal was to stop telling herself "I can't wear this because it doesn't look good on me." The experiment was really successful, everyone loved her looks, and for SOME reason I thought that Haymitch might like the opportunity to dress Effie. I remember an interview with Woody Harrelson saying he wanted to change Haymitch's character and give him his own style, and every fic I tend to read/do has Effie dressing Haymitch or picking out his clothes, but for the sake of this fic, it'll be the other way around! =)_

 _PS: The pink dress Effie's wearing is supposed to look like the yellow dress Rihanna wore to the Met Gala. It was HIDIOUS IDC what anyone says, and looks like something someone in the Capitol would wear LOL_

 **HAYMITCH THE STYLIST**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch heard her before he saw her. He could hear her heels clicking loudly against the Penthouse floor. He could also hear another foreign sound that sounded ridiculously like swishing.

Sure enough when she rounded the corner Effie was dressed in a _ridiculous_ flamingo pink dress that had ruffles and feathers and it made him dizzy.

"You look like Big Bird," he snarled, bringing his drink to his lips.

She glared at him. "Big Bird is yellow, you insufferable drunk."

"Oh, forgive me. You look like Big Bird got into a fight with the Pink Panther and ate him."

" _That_ is _rude_. I'll have you know this dress cost me—"

"Your dignity?"

Effie slowly inhaled and exhaled. "I will be all the rage in the Capitol tonight. Please refrain from speaking again. Just get up so that we can go. We need to be on time tonight."

"You should let me dress you," Haymitch said, rising.

"Sure, if I am drunk and incapable of being serious and if I want to be the laughing stock of Panem."

"You're the Escort for Twelve, it's too late for that."

" _I'm_ Effie Trinket, my reputation is fine. _You_ , on the other hand, are a different story all together."

"You're guilty by association," argued Haymitch. Effie ignored him as they got on the elevator. "Seriously, what would I have to do to get you to let me dress you?"

"There is _nothing_ in all of Panem that would let me let you dress me."

"How about a bet?"

"I am not betting you _anything_."

"I bet you'll get into with Coral tonight."

"I _never_ get into with Coral. _She_ gets into it with me."

Haymitch grinned. "I bet _you'll_ get into it with _her_ tonight."

"That is preposterous, there is nothing she can do to bother me."

"So bet me then. If you approach Coral tonight I get to dress you… for a week."

Effie's eyes danced with amusement. "Fine, Haymitch. It's a bet. But when I win… _you_ have to attend every party _on time_ next year."

" _Every party_?"

" _Yes_ ," hissed Effie.

Haymitch gritted his teeth. "All right, Trinket, you're on." He held out his hand and she shook it, smiling.

When the elevator opened she sent him a wink and they went their separate ways, Effie heading towards the crowd and Haymitch heading towards the bar.

…

"How the hell are you gonna get Effie to get into it with Coral?" asked Chaff, taking a drink. "She's way too composed for that."

Haymitch smiled slyly. "I have an idea or two in mind."

"What is with your obsession with your Escort?"

Haymitch frowned. "I'm not _obsessed_."

"More like smitten," chimed in Finnick, and Haymitch ignored the twenty-one-year-old. "Don't worry, I don't blame you."

"Me either," Chaff agreed. "Your Escort is _hot_."

"Do you ever miss an opportunity to call her that?" snarled Haymitch.

Chaff grinned. "Do you ever miss and opportunity to not be jealous?"

Haymitch refrained from rolling his eyes – barely – and left his friends to go approach Coral.

He didn't understand the competition between Coral and Effie. As far as he was concerned there was no one in the Capitol who looked better than Effie. There was something… genuine – _human_ – about Effie that he appreciated. Granted he had seen to that humanity – her third year as his Escort they had been arguing about something and it'd gotten pretty bad, he had told her the harsh truth about the country and her precious Capitol, and there was no taking back what he said. It was the best thing for her, though, because she got it now, and any doubt she might have still had was taken away two years later at the 60th Hunger Games.

Coral looked like every other clown in the Capitol: ridiculous hair, ridiculous face, ridiculous clothes. She was pretty because Escorts were always pretty, but she didn't hold a candle to Effie. Her District was slightly more successful than his, but her Victors were nightmares, she couldn't control them.

Haymitch had a hard time swallowing the fact that somehow his Escort had gotten under his skin enough for him to actually listen to her – at least mostly. She _got_ him. She had learned to give him the first night, the first night back in the Capitol was always the hardest, so she let him drink in peace and didn't nag him. The next day he was expected to make a few appearances and by the end of the week he was supposed to attend most of the events. She stressed that he be on time, but he hardly ever was. She had gotten to the point that as long as he showed up she wouldn't nag him.

Coral was nothing like Effie, not in personality or looks. Where Effie was blonde and blue Coral was brown on brown and her dressing skills were even worse than Effie's – and sometimes his Escort could take the cake on worst dressed. Haymitch would be changing that tonight.

Haymitch purposely bumped into Coral – lightly – and immediately apologized. "I was in a rush, didn't see you there, Sweetheart."

She looked slightly annoyed until he dropped that 'Sweetheart' word. He didn't know what it was about that phrase that made women interested, but he'd use to his advantage tonight.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered that Effie _hated_ when he called her that.

"It's okay," smiled Coral. "I assume you're looking for your brat of an Escort?"

Haymitch shrugged casually, sliding his hand into his pocket and giving Coral his most charming smile. "It doesn't matter. It's no longer important. Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

Coral arched an eyebrow. "No, I am quite fine, thank you. But if you really want to make it up to me, dance with me?"

It was like taking candy from a baby, he thought to himself. Besides the fact that he was a drunk most people involved in the Games remembered him quite well, and figuring he could be quite the Casanova when he wanted to he could charm the skirt off of any Capitol with a single grin.

Coral was easier to trick because she had it in for Effie, and figuring Effie was the only Capitol to get him to do anything ever, Coral desperately wanted to one up her arch nemesis and former best friend.

Haymitch and Effie _never_ danced together, in fact Haymitch never danced with _anyone_ , really, and now Coral would get to brag to all her little Escort friends that _she_ got to dance with _Haymitch Abernathy_.

He had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

He could feel Effie staring at him, he _knew_ her gaze, he knew that she had probably turned around from the food bar and saw them on the dance floor. She would have been shocked at first, but if Effie knew how to do anything it was control her emotions.

Unless it came to him and another woman. She could be as jealous as he was possessive.

He gave her credit, he had to suffer through _three_ songs before he finally heard his Escort's heels, not to mention pointless conversation. He had to hold back from telling her that Six didn't stand a chance this year, though Seven's Johanna Mason had a _look_ about her. He and Coral went back and forth – she kept using the term weak, and Haymitch wanted to tell her there was nothing _weak_ about that dark spark in Johanna's eyes, but fortunately his Escort approached them then.

He bit the inside of his jaw to keep from smiling, and then held in a slight groan as Effie wrapped her arm around his, digging her sharp nails into his forearm.

"Haymitch, darling, there's a Sponsor I want you to meet." Effie's voice was strained, as was her smile, and he gave her his signature smirk. She was clever, not talking directly to Coral.

"But I'm not finished dancin' yet," said Haymitch.

Effie dropped her smile. "Oh, yes you are. There are cameras everywhere and I will not have your name smeared on every news magazine because you're seen dancing with this whore."

 _Bingo_ , Haymitch thought.

" _Whore_?" shrieked Coral. "Who are you calling a whore, Effie Trinket?"

" _You_ , Coral Axelwood."

"Don't be bitter because your Mentor wants me."

"My Mentor does _not_ want you."

"Well he certainly doesn't want _you_. Your jealousy is pathetic. You've paraded around here pining after Haymitch since you were thirteen. Newsflash: if he hasn't had you by now, he's not going to."

Effie straightened her shoulders, flashing Coral a dangerous smile. "I do believe you have overstayed your welcome. Now if you could so kindly walk away from my Mentor I would certainly appreciate it."

Coral turned from Effie and batted her eyes at Haymitch. "Do you want me to leave, Haymitch?"

"Yah," shrugged Haymitch. "I'm done with you."

Coral looked scandalized. "Excuse me?"

"I believe he's spoken quite clearly. Has your venereal diseases affected your hearing?"

 _That_ had Haymitch's mouth springing open.

"You are such a _bitch_ ," snapped Coral. "All because your drunk doesn't want you."

"Say what you want about me" stepped in Haymitch, his voice cold, "but don't disrespect my Escort. Get the hint: I'm not interested." He grabbed Effie and the two of them headed off back towards the Penthouse.

Inside the elevator Effie whirled on him. "You take things too far," she snapped.

He wasn't the least bit taken aback by her anger. "I'm a Victor, I win at all costs. I don't play fair."

"You are… you…" Effie huffed as the elevator opened to their Penthouse. She reached out and yanked him – now _that_ surprised him – and then she was all over him. They barely made it to his room before she was pinned to the wall. He growled as she gripped him, shoving his tongue down her throat.

He bunched up her skirt, shoving it up to her waist, and then spun her around so that she was facing the wall. She cried out, startled, when he entered her, his face buried in the nape of her neck. He slid his arms around her waist, forcing her hips to his as he moved in and out of her. She arched her back, clawing at the wall.

"I can't believe you _touched_ her," Effie moaned out, and the fact that she could talk was proof that he wasn't distracting her enough. He sped up, making her moan.

"I hated her," he assured her huskily. "She smelled wrong, looked wrong, laughed wrong. She was the wrong height, the wrong weight. Nothing was _right_."

The first orgasm had her whimpering. She spun around, her eyes heavily lidded, and pulled him to her. "Am I right?"

She was fishing, she _always_ fished when it came to another woman hitting on him. He _hated_ it because he hadn't been with another woman in _years_ , so why she kept needing reassurance was beyond him.

"You're not _wrong_ ," was all he could tell her. She hated answers like that he knew, but it was the best he could do. She accepted it because she didn't have much of a choice, and loving someone meant loving their flaws too.

Like the fact that _she_ picked the names.

"Don't dance with her again," she demanded. "Don't _look_ at her again."

"I don't even know what she was _fucking_ wearing, Princess." She groaned and locked her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her breasts, pumping even faster until they both came.

Exhausted they slid down to the floor. For several moments neither of them moved. Then, when his limbs started working again, Haymitch tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"Yes?" Her voice was soft and lazy, and the way he liked it best.

He looked at her, and her eyes found his. They were so blue that it still shocked him sometimes. He gave her his best smile. "I won the bet."

She frowned. "You _cheated_ ," she accused, and the magic was over. She sat up and poked out her lip. "You knew flirting with Coral would get me all worked up. You are a cheat and I hate you."

He climbed on top of her again to prove otherwise.

She could still barely breathe when he climbed off of her, but she still mustered up the courage to hiss, "Cheater," in his ear.

…

"Haymitch _please_ don't go through with this," whined Effie.

"No can do, you agreed, Princess." His voice was muffled because he was currently in her closet, attempting to find her an outfit for tonight.

Effie groaned. " _Why_ do you _hate_ me?" She heard him snort and then he exited her closet, a long gold skirt in his hand. He tossed it on the bed and went back inside, terrified of what he'd bring out to match that skirt. He was gone for what felt like hours and then came back with a red wine colored shirt that buttoned in the back.

It actually wasn't bad.

He went over to her vanity and found her jewelry box. They'd knocked it over enough over the years for him to know exactly what was in it. He found a pearl necklace and pearl studs and laid them out. Then he started going through her lipstick, opening the tops to glance at the color. When he found the one he was looking for he placed it next to the jewelry. Then he went back into her closet and found the plainest looking wig he could. It was completely wrong for the outfit – it was so plain because she was supposed to wear it with an outfit that was extravagant, and though the outfit Haymitch picked out _worked_ , it wasn't extravagant. Still, she knew he hated her in her wigs, so she wasn't surprised.

"Get dressed," he stated, and then he left her alone.

He was fully dressed when she knocked on his door. "Can you button up my shirt?" she asked softly. Haymitch walked up to Effie and buttoned up the back of her shirt, staring at her in the mirror.

"What do you think?"

"I think I am quite impressed," she admitted. "You would make quite the stylist, I think. The colors go good together, they look great on me…. I wouldn't have chosen this wig, but I know why you did."

"It's the closest wig you own to your real hair color, and it's simple. I wish you didn't have all that _shit_ on your face, you look better without it." He finished buttoning up her shirt and turned her around, cupping her face. "I think you look beautiful."

Effie took a deep breath and stepped back, clearing her throat. "Thank you. I only have a few more finishing touches and then we can go."

He nodded and watched her leave, willing his heart to calm down. He missed the days when they were about lust, not….

He shook his head and waited for Effie near the elevator. Once they were downstairs Effie turned to him, hesitating slightly. "Save me a dance?"

"Not a chance in hell," Haymitch said.

If she was disappointed, she hid it well.

She was the talk of the party, and he kept his smug smile planted firmly on his face for the entire night. She deflected all questions about who dressed her and Haymitch was okay with that.

Haymitch tensed when one of Effie's ex-boyfriends made an appearance, asking her to dance. She faltered briefly, and then accepted his outstretched hand.

He let it slide, his Escort wasn't rude, but after another dance he finished up his drink and headed to the dance floor.

"Fucking clever," he told her in her ear when he had her in his arms.

"Well I thought if it worked on me yesterday it could work on you."

"Well the difference between me and you is that I'm not gonna go upstairs and fuck your brains out. You don't get rewarded for making me _jealous_."

"No?" asked Effie innocently. "What about that time you took me in the alley when Seneca asked me to marry him?"

Haymitch opened his mouth.

" _And_ what about that time Flank Wildthrone danced with me two nights in a row? We didn't even make it up to the elevator, you stopped it on the third floor and it was out of commission for an entire hour."

"I don't—"

" _And_ there was that time Chaff carried me to the Penthouse when I got too drunk and _you_ were nowhere to be found?"

Haymitch scowled at that. "He reminds me of that night _every year_." He pulled her closer, possessively, and Effie smiled. "We're being _stupid_. What we do is _dangerous_."

"Relax, no one suspects a thing," she reminded him. "But I do hope you'll change your mind about sleeping with me tonight. I keep thinking about the way you'll slide this outfit off of me."

Haymitch growled. " _Now_ who's not playing fair?"

She blinked innocently at him. "Whatever do you mean?"

He backed away from her. "Meet me in your room in thirty minutes. _Don't_ be late, I've watched you parade around all night and I just might start and finish without you."

Effie watched him go, a small smile on her face. He didn't know it, but he'd be allowed to dress her from now until eternity. She had to admit, the man could dress, and he could dress her any time.

And undress her, too.

That was the beauty of being a stylist.


	189. On the Run

_Sooo there's gonna be a new Jason Bourne movie! It's currently going by the title Bourne5 until we know the real title, but I just thought it'd be THRILLING to place Hayffie in this world as Jason and Nikki. If you've never seen a Bourne movie (ummmm CHANGE THAT ASAP) you don't need to have seen it to understand it. For those of you who have, Haymitch is Jason, Effie is Nikki, Seeder is Pam Landy, and Snow is Conklin. This is going to address all three movies. I promise if you haven't seen it you'll be fine._

 _I'm posting this because rumor has it Bourne5 will release its trailer during the SUPERBOWL! (Go Panthers)._

 **ON THE RUN**

 **Rated T**

The first time he finds her, her hair is blue. She's just young enough to still pull it off.

He's sitting on the stairs, and he is the first thing she sees when she unlocks her door and walks inside.

Her breath hitches, just enough to give away she's slightly nervous.

"You remember," is the first thing she states, and she can't quite mask the hopefulness in her voice. As soon as the question is out of her mouth he has a quick flashback of a bright yellow kitchen with an intricate floral design painted on the wall. They're laughing about something, and he's picking her up, placing her on the counter, and they're kissing. Just like that, the image is gone.

He stares at her, noting she hasn't moved an inch. "Only bits and pieces," he tells her. "Nothing substantial." She can't quite hide her disappointment, and then her blue eyes were guarded.

"If you're here to kill me, I'll have you know that you'll have the fight of your life on your hands. You trained me yourself, and rumor has it you're impossible to kill."

He stared at her, her blue eyes boring into his, and he thought about that night, twelve years ago. " _It was difficult, for me… with you_."

"I'm not here to kill you." She remained silent. "I just want some answers."

* * *

She told him that she couldn't really help him. "Anything I tell you could be from my point of view, which makes my point of view skewed."

It didn't stop him from finding her a year later.

He'd had a feeling that she'd run – if he could find her, then anyone could, and he apologized for disrupting her life. Hiding from the people they were on the run from wasn't easy. But he'd given her a burner phone, thereby giving her the option to decline.

She never did.

Overtime they reached a compromise: she'd help him with his jumbled memories, because no one knew his file better than her. Despite the fact that he had lost his memory all those years ago, she still remembered everything—almost too well.

However, when it came to them… she was adamant about not going into that. Whenever he asked them, she always got up and left, and he wouldn't see her again for another year.

Still, it didn't take long for him to remember them. Remember _her_.

* * *

Plutarch Heavensbee was the top cyber analyst of the CIA. Haymitch had been in direct contact with him for one year.

He'd been watching him for two.

Haymitch had approached Plutarch because he had the information Haymitch needed, and Haymitch had been directly referred to him by Seeder after she had retired. Seeder was one of the few people he actually trusted. She had first been hired to seek him out and kill, only she not only ended up being an ally, but an asset, and she helped destroy half of the crooked CIA agents by sending a simple fax.

Before she retired she had told him that Plutarch was key, and trustworthy.

A year ago Haymitch had made contact, and they started meeting up. It was always on Haymitch's terms, out of the blue, and never routine.

Until recently. For the last six months someone had been trying to tie up all the loose ends of Treadstone. Haymitch had long ago hacked into the CIA's files using Plutarch's info—not that he knew it.

Every morning he'd log on to see what the CIA's main agenda was. Six months ago he noticed a new agenda on the list, along with a list of names. Next to those names was a location box with the words KNOWN and UNKOWN.

Effie's name was unknown, and from that day forward, Haymitch met with Plutarch every single day to see if her status had changed. As the months passed he helped who he could—seeing some names triggered his memory, and if he could find them before the hit men, he was a success.

It was risky, but rewarding.

The only thing he refused to do was get involved with Effie. He thought it might be too risky. As long as her location remained unknown, he stayed away. He checked every single day, and every single day he breathed a silent sigh of relief when her status stayed the same.

This particular morning, he woke up, did his usual exercise routine, and then headed to his meeting place where he'd meet with Plutarch.

He took special care to take another route. He never took the same route twice. It was too risky.

Plutarch showed up on time. No words were exchanged. No words were _ever_ exchanged. Plutarch just opened his computer, logged in, and allowed Haymitch to see the status of the former members of Treadstone.

Effie's status was still unknown.

Haymitch nodded, closed the computer, and Plutarch saluted him and bid him goodbye.

Haymitch waited an hour before grabbing his duffle bag and leaving.

* * *

It'd been about three years since he'd last seen her. He'd remembered most of everything by now, including what he shared with Effie.

At least most of it.

Some things were still hazy.

She was in Berlin this time around, and he wondered why she'd picked a place so close to home. Berlin seemed risky.

He made a quick detour to Zurich, where he visited an old bank he used to use. It was risky, but this was a test on Plutarch's part. No one should know that he was here if Plutarch did what he was told.

Haymitch hadn't been to this bank in years, and he wasn't quite sure why he returned now. He just knew ever since he had gotten most of his memory back that this place held answers for him.

He made his way to his old account, taking a look at the very box he'd found so many years before. The gun he had left was still inside, but that was it.

Haymitch frowned. His instincts were normally right. There was something important here, something he was supposed to remember, something that he was forgetting.

He tried searching for a secret compartment in the box, but came up empty. He could feel himself getting frustrated, but after searching for several moments, he was forced to admit that he must have been wrong.

Annoyed Haymitch attempted to put the box back into the drawer, only he dropped it. It clanged loudly against the tile floor, but Haymitch hardly noticed.

He was too busy looking at the key taped to the bottom of the box.

It was identical to his bank key, only the number was different.

He went to the teller and told her to take him to this account.

* * *

Another box, identical to the first, greeted him. He took it out, noting that this box had a security pad on it. He knew immediately he'd have trouble with this. He wouldn't have used any date that would have mattered to him. Not a birthday or his first day of training, or anything like that.

He had no clue what was in this box, and what security code he used to find out.

But he knew someone who did.

* * *

The restaurant was crowded, which was by design. He wanted it that way. Even with the crowd he spotted her the minute she walked inside.

She stood out like a sore thumb to him.

It hadn't always been like that. When he'd woken up on a strange boat, two bullets lodged in his body, he had no memory whatsoever of who he was. He hadn't recognized Effie. In fact he'd held a gun to her head.

Twice.

He thought he was pretty damn lucky for her to have forgiven him for that.

He still wasn't quite ready to forgive himself.

" _It was difficult for me… with you_." When she'd first told him those words, after he'd asked her why she was helping him, he still hadn't remembered anything. He'd understood her well enough, and even if he wanted to play coy, there was no denying what she meant when she asked, after a few moments, " _You really don't remember anything_?"

He'd sat across from her, trying to remember anything, something, but came up blank.

It'd take another few years for him to really remember her.

It'd been a dream—it was always a dream—and slowly but surely he'd started to piece together his previous life.

She'd been the center of it.

A lot of things still weren't clear. She didn't talk about them much. He didn't know how to tell her that he remembered things about them, though overtime he suspected she knew.

Effie was _smart_.

Take now. He watched as her eyes swept the entire restaurant without even really moving her face. He bet she knew where all the exits were and how many people were in the restaurant, what the couple next to the fourth window was eating, and what the specials of the day were.

She approached him casually, dressed in black boots, black pants, a grey sweater, and a black coat, a leather briefcase at her side. A simple chain necklace still hung around her neck. She always wore that necklace, and he wondered what the value was to her.

No one but him noticed the way her breath tethered at the sight of him.

"Hello, Haymitch," she stated softly, sliding into the booth.

"Effie."

She looked at him. "It's been a while."

Indeed it had.

* * *

"I like the blonde," he told her, sipping on the drink he'd ordered. "Though… it's not as good as the blue."

Her mouth twitched as his teasing. "Yah, well I study the brain as opposed to being an art student. I had to dress the part."

Haymitch's brows furrowed. "Studying the brain? That's kind of risky, don't you think?"

Effie shook her head. "I specialized in memory modification back when I worked with the CIA. What I do now is intern for Dr. Albrecht, who specialized in _why_ and _how_ the brain memorizes, and why, in some cases, memory loss is permanent." Haymitch stiffened, just a little. Effie dropped her gaze and started digging into her briefcase, pulling his file.

Haymitch leaned forward, itching to get his hands on the document. He felt like a lot of his secrets were held in here. She had let him overlook it a few times, but he wasn't sure this would be one of those times.

"You are still my most difficult patient," smiled Effie, grabbing a notebook and a black in pen. He just stared at her. "Do you still have headaches?"

"Not as often as I used to."

"How often would you say?"

Haymitch shrugged. "Once or twice every six months."

Effie wrote. "And do you still dream?"

"Every night."

"Are you still writing them down?"

"When and if I remember them, yah."

She nodded. "Good. That's good, Haymitch."

"I remember mostly everything now. At least… I think I do." Effie arched an eyebrow and Haymitch leaned forward. "Why don't you tell me about the apartment in Paris with the yellow walls and the floral patterns?"

Effie stiffened. "When'd you remember that?" Her question is quiet, and she looks genuinely shocked.

"Does it really matter?"

Effie stared at him. "No… no I suppose not." She took a deep breath. "It was my first apartment. I lived there for two years, on a tight budget, until I realized I was a member of the CIA with a _very_ nice salary, and shouldn't be living like that. That's all I can tell you."

"Effie—"

"Why are you here, Haymitch?"

Haymitch clamped his mouth shut for a few seconds. Then he leaned forward his voice low. "Whatever I'm about to tell you, you need to keep your cool. Don't give anything away." She gave a single nod, and Haymitch kept eye contact. "You've been made."

He'd give her credit. The devastation was only in her eyes. Her body didn't tense, she didn't frown, she didn't breathe deeply. And the devastation was gone almost as quickly as it had come.

"I guess there's no point in asking if you're sure."

He stared into her eyes, and in a word that was identical to that café all those years ago, when she'd asked him if he remembered anything, he replied with a simple, "No." Haymitch clasped his hands together. "Someone's trying to take out every known member of Treadstone. A couple of days ago… your location was found out."

She paused for a few minutes. "So what's the plan? Do we leave immediately?"

Haymitch shook his head. "We need them to think you made them, or they'll know you'll have had help. We'll set up a trap. If your location is known I give them a day, two at max before they're here. Don't change your routine. Do everything you would do if you hadn't seen me. I'll meet you at your place tonight."

Effie nodded, gathering her things.

When she walked out she didn't look back.

* * *

Effie was walking briskly, well aware of the three men following her. She wasn't nervous. This wasn't the first time she'd had to run for her life, so she was somewhat used to it. In her line of work, you always looked over your shoulder.

Secondly, she had Haymitch in her ear. He was currently her line of sight, and instead of panicking and worrying she followed his directions, because she trusted him whole-heartedly.

"Make a left into this alley." His voice was breathy. They had somewhat caught them off guard, and Effie had barely had time to call Haymitch before they were after her. He was always nearby, though, and was only a few blocks away. He was currently on the rooftops, attempting to make it to the secluded building a few blocks down.

Effie did as she was told, noting that it was isolated.

"I can't see you anymore, but there's a door three feet away. Enter it, climb the stairs, quickly, and keep going up. I'll be there."

"Okay."

"Stay connected."

"Always."

Effie did as she was told. She knew she would get away, she wasn't worried, she was completely confident in their plan—

Until she tripped over a rock and fell.

She gasped and scrambled up, suddenly terrified. She knew she needed to remain calm. She locked eyes with the three of them, and all of them were smiling.

"If you come quietly, we'll make this as painless as possible." The man signaled to the other two men and they put their guns away. He kept his gun out.

Effie could hear Haymitch whispering fiercely in her ear, but she couldn't respond. The three men came closer and closer, and Effie knew she should run, but her fear had petrified her.

"There's a good bitch," the man with the gun said. He reached her and in a swift move she elbowed him and kicked him in between his legs. She heard a single gun shot and the man crumbled.

Time seemed to stop, and she saw Haymitch above her, on the roof, a gun in his hand.

When she came back to her senses, she remembered the plan and made her way into the building as gunfire rang all around her. She assumed one guy was shooting at her while his partner shot at Haymitch. Sure enough a bullet whizzed by her as she made her way up the old stairs.

There were four stories, which she had known, but she wasn't prepared to climb four sets of stairs with a bruised knee. She felt like the man was gaining on her, but her adrenaline forced her to keep going.

When she broke through the door Haymitch was there, tossing her a gun. She caught it, but before she could fire the man came barging in. Haymitch fired his gun within a second, and the man crumbled.

Effie gasped, taken aback, but before anything could register the last man came in, blood dripping from his leg, and limping.

Effie didn't think. She got ready, aimed, and fired, and the man fell next to his partner. Effie looked down at them, her entire body tense, her heart hammering. She could feel Haymitch looking at her, but she didn't meet his eye.

"Was that your first kill?" asked Haymitch, glancing at her shaking hands.

She clutched her fingers together and then loosened them. "No. Of course not. I've been MIA for twelve years, you don't stay off the grid that long without killing. But I try not to. Normally I just knock them out and leave, make sure my scent is cold. If I have to kill them, I can and do." She stared at the gun. "But it never gets easier."

"Good. It's not supposed to." That was a lot coming from him, particularly since he was a trained assassin. He hadn't known better then. He knew better now. "Get ready for phase two. There's one more."

Effie nodded, and almost on cue, Haymitch spotted the the last assassin atop the building directly across from them. They had a direct line on Effie, but wouldn't be able to see him.

He looked through his binoculars. "When I say 'Now' I want you to shift to your right and go down." This was risky, he knew. He was counting on his skills to be better than his opponent. He was sure he was, but he'd never bet someone else's life before.

Nova briefly flashed in his mind, but he pushed that thought away.

"Now!" Effie shifted and then crumbled. "Don't move." He could hear Effie breathing, relieved that it'd worked. "He's leaving. We don't have much time." Effie stood up, shaking, wiping off the blood where the bullet had grazed her head while Haymitch made his way to the closet.

The closet that housed a dead blonde woman with a bullet in her head that he'd dug up the other night.

He put some of Effie's blood on the dead girl that resembled her.

Haymitch looked at her. "We need a safe place to hide."

Effie hesitated, briefly. "I know a place, but… I don't know if you want to go back there."

"Is it _safe_?"

"Yes."

Haymitch stared at her. "Then let's go."

* * *

They stopped at her place first so she could grab her emergency bag. She immediately headed off to the bathroom to wash herself. When she glanced in the mirror she paled considerably. It felt like blood was everywhere, and she found herself shaking and nearly sobbing as she watched the blood drain down the sink.

She wasn't made for this life.

Haymitch came in, sitting his gun down. "It shouldn't get easier," he told her. She looked up at him, their eyes locking in the mirror. "This is what your reaction should be every time. Not cold, like me. Never like me."

"You're not cold." Effie turned around. "You _hate_ killing, Haymitch." He arched an eyebrow, just enough to let her know he was skeptical. "You do. I know your file. Aside from that, I know you. You hate it. And it's never been easy. But you were a patriot. You were following orders. You don't kill for fun, but out of necessity. What Snow turned you into… that was on him." The two of them stared at each other for a few moments. "We should go."

She turned to leave, but Haymitch stopped her.

His mouth was on hers before either of them could think better of it, and he tasted like she always remembered: a mixture of hope, strength, and desperation. It was their first kiss in fourteen years—two years of him missing, twelve years of them being off the grid.

His hands took on all the familiar routes, making her body convulse.

She should stop this. She _knew_ she should stop this. It'd just been so long since he'd touched her, since anyone had touched her. There wasn't a lot of time for relationships in their line of work.

"I'm pretty sure I remember you liking a spot right… _here_." Haymitch's lips found a spot behind her ear that had her knees weak.

"Sensory memory," she whispered. Haymitch stiffened, just a little, and stopped to look at her. "It's the way your body remembers things, without your brain having to. That's how you were able to defend yourself without even remembering that you were trained. It's… why you can never forget how to ride a bike, or drive."

He probably should have walked away then. They both should have. But neither one of them was very good at walking away from the other.

He picked her up and slammed her against the wall. His mouth covered hers, and a part of her wished his body was too, but for now, being pinned against the wall would do just fine as well.

He was still rough, and it felt amazing. _He_ felt amazing. She cried out, arching her back as he entered her, and responded in kind. Her hips plummeted into his as he thrust into her, and neither of them were being very quiet. He buried his face in her neck, trying to hold off. It seemed like his entire body was sensitive to her touch, and the way she was digging her nails into his back nearly had him exploding.

But he held on until he felt her clench around him, and there was no stopping it after that. He choked out her name too easily, and somewhere, in the far away distance, he could hear her chanting his.

He slid off of her, panting slightly.

To her credit she didn't stiffen. There wasn't even betrayal in her eyes. She kept her eyes locked to his, but they were closed off. She was completely guarded.

"We have to go," she stated, and her voice never wavered. "We don't want to miss our train."

* * *

"What is this safe house?" asked Haymitch once they were on the train.

Effie looked up from studying the map. "You built it— _created_ it—yourself."

"Why would I choose a safe house in Paris?

"You have safe houses in over fifteen countries. But Paris… Paris is the most secure. You'll see why."

"And why did you think I wouldn't want to go there?"

Effie paused. "Let's just say I'm unsure of how you will react to it."

Haymitch stared at her. She'd changed her look—she had to. She had thrown on a brunette wig with bangs and it changed the entire look of her face. Throw in some hazel contacts and she looked completely different. She changed into dark blue jeans, a black shirt, a leather jacket, and black boots. She still wore the silver necklace. He'd caught a glimpse of it earlier when she'd changed. It had a diamond ring at the end of it, but he didn't ask her about it.

Leaning forward Haymitch asked, "Why do you know about my safe houses?"

Effie paused for the longest time yet. "I can't answer that. Anything I say at this point will be told from my point of view, and is skewed."

He sat back, studying her. That was the line she used whenever it had something to do with them. There was something she was still hiding from him. "I need a date." Effie arched an eyebrow. "I found a security box in Zurich—"

"You found your box?" Effie suddenly was alert.

Haymitch paused again. "You know about my box?"

"There's not much I don't know about you, Haymitch." The admission was final, and definite.

"Would you know a date? Because I can't for the life of me figure out the security code on this thing." He reached into his bag and pulled out the box. "I know it wouldn't be my birthday or anything. It's too obvious, and too risky." He looked at her. "You know what it is."

This time it was her turn to lean forward. "Haymitch, whatever you find in this box will alter everything. You have to understand—I'm talking as your psychologist—this box belongs to Pandora. You don't want to do this."

He blinked at her. "Open the box, Effie."

* * *

She grabbed the box and typed in _031503_.

"What date is March 15, 2002?" asked Haymitch.

Effie eyed him for a few minutes. "If what I think is in there is still there… you'll know." He looked at her before grabbing the box. "Haymitch—" Effie paused and he arched an eyebrow. She just shook her head and looked out the window.

He opened the lid of the box and froze.

The first thing he noticed was a picture. But not just _any_ picture.

A picture of him and Effie.

Getting married.

They looked _happy_.

Genuinely happy.

He was _smiling_. He never smiled.

It was a close-up of them, almost kissing, him in a tux, her in a wedding dress. He could barely make out the background because it was purposely blurry, but he could see moss trees and gold.

More than anything he noticed Effie's hand on his face, a large diamond ring on her hand.

The very ring that was attached to the end of her necklace.

He stared at the picture, analyzing it. Her hair was blonde. Not platinum blonde like her wig had been, but beautiful honeysuckle. Her eyes were sparkling blue, lit with love and excitement.

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Haymitch, trying to keep his voice level.

"What was I supposed to say?" Effie's voice was cold and detached. "'Oh, hey Haymitch, I know you don't remember me, but I'm your wife.' That'd have set you back more than anything, and it wouldn't have a difference."

"That's _bullshit_ , Effie." He glanced back at the photo. "You should have said something." She just shook her head and looked back out the window, subconsciously playing with her ring around her necklace.

Haymitch glanced back down at the box. He noticed a handgun and a ring of keys, along with a folded piece of paper. He grabbed it and realized it was a marriage license.

He found himself brushing their signatures.

* * *

"Why would I risk marriage? What we were… it was already dangerous. I remember deciding you were worth the risk. But _marriage_?" He glanced at the picture. "I didn't even fathom that in order to remember that."

Effie stayed silent for so long that Haymitch didn't think she'd answer. She just kept staring out the window, sliding the ring back and forth on her necklace.

Finally she turned to him. "As time passed, and the killings started to become more and more regular, you got… colder. Distant. For a while you wouldn't really confide in me, not even as your psychologist. I think you were trying to protect me. You were starting to hate yourself, and I think you were afraid I'd hate you too. One day you came over and stated that you didn't want to lose who you were. You didn't want the killing to make you forget how to love. More than anything you wanted to stay human." She paused and grabbed the photo from him, looking at it. "You said there was only one thing to keep you human."

"What?"

She still remembered that night, perhaps even more so than the day they had gotten married. They'd made love for the first time that night.

She looked him dead in the eye. "Me."

* * *

It made sense, even if he didn't remember it.

The rest of the train ride was silent, except for Haymitch asking Effie about the set of the keys, which he found out were all the keys to his safe houses. Aside from that, they didn't really speak. Even when they rented the car they didn't talk.

"Why isn't the safe house secluded?" asked Haymitch once he realized they were reaching their destination.

Effie glanced at him, nearly startled at the sound of his voice. "Most of the other ones are. This one? Not so much."

"Shouldn't we scope out the neighborhood?"

"You own this entire block," Effie stated. "All the people who live in this neighborhood are plants—people who'd lost their jobs or were behind on their mortgage, whatever. You found them and offered them their American dream right here in Paris." Effie pulled into a quaint little house that sparked no memories for Haymitch. "Your only stipulation was that if anyone ever came looking for either one of us, they had to call us on a burner phone that you'd given them. I've kept the phone all these years. I've never gotten a call, and I've never expected to. You covered your tracks well. No one would have found this place, and on the off chance that they did, this house is only a front." She took off her seatbelt and opened her door. "Let's go."

They walked up to the house and they didn't need a key. Just a code. For this one it was her birthday.

Haymitch thought that was strange.

* * *

Inside he looked around. The house looked staged, he noted. Everything was too perfect. Still, it was a nice home.

She seemed to know the layout, and he followed her down to the basement.

"You wouldn't have kept any important documents here. This house is just for show. If anyone ever found us, and tried to blow this house up, you'd never lose anything." The walked down the stairs and pinned in a code. "This door locks behind us automatically."

The basement was nothing more than a library, literally every wall from the floor to the ceiling was filled with books. The ceilings were tall and full of books. There was even a library ladder.

Effie turned to the right and went for the third shelf from the bottom. She reached for a metallic gold book that didn't come all the way off the shelf. Instead it lowered and showcased a keypad.

"The code is the same as your box. This book is designed to go back into place as soon as the code is entered. Aside from that, as soon as the secret door opens, it automatically starts to close. You designed it so that if anyone's after us, they'd have a hell of a time following us."

Effie keyed in the code and a door on the other side started to slide open. Effie started walking towards the door Haymitch followed. He found himself in an underground tunnel. It didn't take him long to realize that he was on the other side of the sewer.

Effie's boots echoed in the tunnel and together they walked a mile until they came to a black gate.

What in the _hell_?

"For this gate you just enter the same code," Effie told him. "When we enter the house be prepared to state your name and have your palm scanned." Effie entered _031502_ and the red dot turned green. Effie turned the handle and they walked through the gate. They continued down the path, Effie digging around in her bag and finally produced her iPad. She keyed in a code and stated, "Secure the premises." Then she tossed her iPad back in her bag and they kept walking until they reached a set of metal stairs leading outside.

He found himself climbing into a front yard. A beautifully sculpted front yard, placed on an equally beautifully sculpted house.

Haymitch looked up and noticed a clear glass panel, barely noticeable, covering the front yard. Effie followed his eye and spoke.

"You designed that to stop people from seeing into our yard. It's the same technology used if you overthrow a camera feed to make us invisible."

Haymitch blinked. "So you mean…?"

"If anyone is on to us and they're above us, they can't see. They just seen an unoccupied yard."

"We had that kind of technology back then?"

Effie gave him a small smirk. "We're the CIA. Our technology is ridiculously advanced. Wait until you see the house."

They made their way up the front steps and Effie dug into her bag and found her keys, sticking the key into the door. "We have a silent alarm. The alarm system will blink red until we enter in the right code, then it'll turn green, but we also have to state who we are and that we're home for the alarm to deactivate. If we don't state we're home, then the house knows it's not us."

She pushed the door open and they were greeted with darkness and silence, save for a red blinking light. Effie keyed in the same date and then said, "The Abernathy's are home." Haymitch stiffened slightly, though Effie probably didn't notice. Instead she re-entered the code, the red light turning green.

"Please state your name and present your hand," stated an automated voice, and suddenly a square computer screen glowed red in the shape of a palm.

"Effie Abernathy," she said, and she placed her hand on the screen.

"Access granted."

Effie turned and looked at Haymitch expectantly. "Haymitch Abernathy." His voice was clear as he put his hand on the screen.

"Access confirmed. Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy. What can I do for you?"

"Lights on, seventy percent," said Effie, and suddenly she was dropping her bag and taking off her coat as she walked down the hall. "Heat on, seventy-five degrees." She took off her gloves, her heels echoing on the hardwood floors. "Heat the floors, seventy-seven degrees. Fireplace in the living room: on."

"So noted. Would you like me to start to the master bath, Mrs. Abernathy?"

Effie's step faltered, just a hair. "You may call me Effie." Her voice had a slight edge to it that had Haymitch frowning. His frown deepened as she walked into the kitchen, went for a certain cupboard, and grabbed a bottle of dark liquor.

She grabbed a glass, poured a healthy amount, and drunk most of its contents.

He didn't have to ask her what was wrong. It was obvious. They'd lived here before.

Together.

 _This_ house felt much more like a home. There were pictures of them everywhere, he recognized their tastes….

"You have an office right passed the living room," Effie told him. "If you want to shower the master suite is the entire third floor. Don't ask me what you'll find up there. I haven't been up there since they discovered you were missing." She paused, looking down at her glass. "We were only married three weeks when you disappeared." She threw back the rest of her drink and placed her glass in the sink.

She made to pass him but Haymitch grabbed her arm. "I'm sorry I didn't remember us."

She stayed quiet for awhile, and then, softly, "Me too."

She walked away from him.

* * *

She couldn't figure out if she was surprised or not when he came to the guest bedroom in the middle of the night. He crawled in next to her, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face into her back.

How it turned into anything more was beyond her. One minute they were hugging the next minute they were taking off each other's clothes. He smelled like Irish Spring and alcohol—and the alcohol was new. He'd never been much of a drinker. They always had to be on alert in their line of work, and alcohol made you sluggish. She imagined he'd probably been thinking about them and done the same thing she'd done before bed: knocked back a few drinks to ease the tension.

"Are you drunk?" she whispered.

He snorted. "No."

And that seemed to be all it took. They clung to each other, bodies flushed, hands wandering, deep scratches, hair pulling, and biting. This she remembered more than anything—the feel of him, his stubble after a long trip away, his hands gripping hers, his face buried in her neck, his moans low, his voice husky. She clung on to him, relishing in the feeling of him being on top of her, and then they battled for domination.

She _definitely_ remembered this.

Fighting for control was their forte. He needed the control but she _liked_ control, and they often battled until they made each other cum. By that time they were so exhausted that they usually fell right asleep.

Tonight was a little different. He seemed to be fighting to keep control, but it didn't take all that much to flip him over and start riding him. His hands immediately rested on her waist and he let her move, her thrusts slow and teasing.

He cursed, softly, his hands sliding up and down her body, making her tingle all over. She felt like she'd explode, and that she wouldn't be able to last too much longer, when he gripped her hands and growled out her name. She released and he followed, thrusting up and changing the angle, and she cried out into the night.

He kissed her and she kissed him back, even though she hadn't quite caught her breath yet.

After a few minutes she slid off of him, but he kept her close.

"You're leaving," Effie stated.

"I'm gonna finish this, Effie," said Haymitch. "Whoever we're dealing with thinks you're dead." He'd checked earlier today. Her name had said TERMINATED next to it. "I've already reached out to an ally."

"Aaron?"

Haymitch paused. "You know Aaron Cross?"

"No. You two were just… similar in a lot of ways when it came to training."

"How do you know?"

Effie hesitated briefly. "I studied him. He was first trained to be a member of Treadstone. In the end the CIA placed him elsewhere."

"I want you to stay here. I want you to stay hidden. I want you to stay off the grid. I'm gonna do everything in my power to come back to you this time."

Effie nodded but didn't speak.

He kissed her brow and together they drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, he was gone.

She considered the guest bedroom another room she'd never be able to sleep in again.

* * *

It took quite a few months to get everything lined up. He kept checking in on certain people, intervening when he could when their name was on the list to be killed.

There were only a dozen or so men left on the list, including him.

Haymitch sat in the restaurant and waited for the woman to scope him out. When she did she made her way to the table. Haymitch stood and stretched out his hand.

"Commander Paylor," the woman said.

Haymitch nodded. "I'm—"

"I know who you are. You're something of a legend in the CIA. It's an honor, Mr. Abernathy."

"Please, sit." The two of them sat and Haymitch didn't beat around the bush. "Tell me who's behind the killings of former Treadstone members."

Paylor leaned back. "Treadstone's dead, Haymitch. You know that."

"Yet members of that organization are winding up dead. _You_ know _that_. Why?"

"What's it to you?"

"Don't bullshit me, Paylor. I've watched you. I've had my eye on you. You're on of the few people who hasn't let this government corrupt you. I am prepared to take every person down in the CIA if I have to. I don't want to do that. I have to assume there are more people out there like you and Aaron Cross and myself."

Paylor studied him for a few moments. "The number one rule when it comes to a villain is to follow the money. The butler never does it. The master does."

"Are we talking about Alma Coin?"

"That woman could make Snow look like a bunny."

"What's her deal?"

"Power," Paylor stated simply.

"So is she the source giving the orders?"

"Of course she is. She wants the chair. If she delivers the head of every Treadstone member, she'll be one of the highest ranked officials in the CIA. She's gunning for that position. If the CIA falls into her hands… nobody stands a chance. It's not just going to be about us verses them. We'll be fighting and destroying ourselves."

Haymitch paused. "How are we going to change that?"

"You understand that by even talking to you is treason of the highest form, correct? You're talking about _doing_ something?"

"You came, Paylor, and you didn't have to. That means this job means something to you. Help me get it back to what it used to be."

Paylor studied him. "What's in it for you?"

"I wanna kill Coin."

She seemed surprised, not by his admission, but that he had admitted it.

She finally leaned forward, linking her hands together. "What'd you have in mind?"

* * *

It didn't take very long for the plan to come together. It was simple, really. At the end of the day, Coin was killed, Haymitch pulling the trigger, and it was over and done.

There were no witnesses. Every assassin who'd been told to hunt down members of Treadstone were told to move on to other targets. Commander Paylor was voted in the new high ranking position.

It was nearly a happily ever after.

Aside from one thing.

Haymitch made his way to DC and met up with Plutarch face to face.

It took Haymitch ten seconds to disarm him.

"You lied to me," Haymitch told Plutarch. "You lied to my face."

"What are you talking about?" asked Plutarch.

"I log in onto your account every day with my computer." He motioned to the bag he was carrying. "It was easy enough to get your information. I can see everything you see. Aside from that, Seeder gave me her information years ago. Three months ago you looked me in my face and told me Effie Trinket was nowhere to be found, but earlier that day I had already logged on and found out she'd been made."

"Haymitch, I swear to you, Effie Trinket's name still, to this day, says location unknown." Haymitch snarled and took out his gun. "Haymitch, I swear!" Plutarch held up his hands, his face stricken. "Let me prove it to you. I have my computer with me. Let me show you."

Haymitch paused, scowling. "Give me your computer." Keeping the gun trained on the man, Plutarch reached into his bag, clearly shaking, and grabbed his computer. "Open it and and it to me. Slowly." Plutarch did as he was told. "Keep your hands up where I can see them. You so much as scratch your nose your brain will be all over the pavement." Haymitch kept his eyes on Plutarch and dug into his pocket, pulling out a pair of cuffs. "Cuff yourself, in the front and walk back forty-five feet." Plutarch did as he was told. "Those cuffs are explosive. You try to take them off…." Haymitch smiled. "Your hands get blown up."

Without taking his eyes of Plutarch Haymitch keyed in Plutarch's passcode and logged into his files. It didn't take him long to find what it is he was looking for.

Haymitch studied the data, and then with his gun still pointed at a _very_ nervous looking Plutarch, went and found the computer in his bag. He logged on under Seeder's account and frowned.

The news didn't match. Plutarch's file still said that Effie's location was unknown. He was telling the truth.

Closing his computer and putting it away, Haymitch stood back up and uncuffed Plutarch.

"You should tell your boss that your files aren't updated. Effie's dead. If I were you, I'd tell them that you killed me too. I've been off the grid for twelve years. I plan to stay that way."

With that Haymitch handed Plutarch his computer, walking away. Plutarch watched him until he disappeared.

* * *

She heard the key in the door, and couldn't decide if she was imagining it or not.

It wouldn't be the first time.

But when she heard the distinct, "Haymitch Abernathy," Effie's heart caught in her throat.

"Welcome home, Mr. Abernathy. How may I help you?"

"Where is my wife?" Haymitch asked the house.

His _wife_.

"Haymitch," whispered Effie, and he looked up from taking off his gloves to see Effie standing there, in one of his button-up shirts.

Her eyes welled with tears as she took a tentative step forward. She flat out ran to him when he started walking towards her. Their lips met almost immediately, and he quickly pulled her body towards him.

It wasn't until his forehead was resting on hers that he felt it.

He stiffened slightly.

"Effie…."

She stepped back, her hand resting on her slight baby bump, her ring glittering in the light.

"I didn't know if I'd ever have anything left from you," she told him softly.

"Effie," he repeated.

He hesitated and then reached out and touched her stomach. It was already harder and only slightly noticeable.

"Please tell me it's over, Haymitch," whispered Effie. "We cannot be on the run with a child."

Haymitch thought of Coin and Snow, both dead, and nodded. "Yah, Princess. It's over. Let's go be a family."


	190. The Next Morning

_Sequel to Karaoke Night (Chapter 181)._

 **THE NEXT MORNING**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at the girl currently sitting at his table, in his Penthouse. She had purple hair and a bright blue dress on, and heels to compete with Effie.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked Haymitch without preamble.

She smiled at him and took a drink of _his_ liquor. "A friend of Effie's," she said simply, and that vague answer had Haymitch scowling. She looked him over—really undressed him—with her light brown eyes, and he felt his stomach coil.

A Capitol was checking him out.

"I don't know who you think you are, but I want you outta here, now. Effie can meet you downstairs."

She didn't seem at all terrified of him, which had him frowning. The only other person who was unafraid of him was Effie Trinket.

"Chill out and have a drink. Here." She poured him a large glass, and the temptation for it outweighed his dislike for her. She clunk her glass to his and he eyed her narrowly. "To having fun."

She tossed back her drink and he was about to do the same when he heard a pair of heels clicking.

"Haymitch Abernathy if you're already at the bar this early—" She stopped talking and walking once her eyes rested on their guest. "Hera. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about last night, and you weren't answering your phone."

"My phone?" Effie frowned. "I probably left it in my clutch. I rarely use that thing while I'm at work. You know that."

"Yes, well I wanted to know how last night went."

"I hardly think this is the time or place." For someone who had just chastised him for drinking so early she certainly made her way to the bar quickly.

"So you screwed him then?"

Effie spun around. "Of course not!"

"Oh. So he screwed you?"

"Hera!"

"What? Clio's been pining after you…." Hera glanced at Haymitch. "For probably as long as you've been pining after Haymitch."

" _Why_ does everyone seem to be bringing up my stupid high school crush on this man? That was _years_ ago."

"Because he's _still_ dreamy," Hera breathed, her eyes mischievous. "You didn't mention that."

"I do not discuss my Mentor," said Effie, quite coldly.

"I know. You're ever the professional. But you've been holding out. Haymitch is still…" Hera tilted her head. "Very fuckable."

Effie stilled while Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "You will _not_ talk about my Mentor like that, Hera."

Hera looked at Effie. "Oh, don't be jealous, Sweetheart. I share." She turned back to Haymitch. "What do you say we have a threesome?"

"Are you fucking _stupid_?" asked Haymitch.

Hera shrugged. "Your loss. I could rock your world. And Effie could use a good lay. That's why she's always so cranky." Hera drank the rest of her drink and stood up. "I guess I'll see you after the Games."

Effie watched Hera disappear, her mouth hanging open.

" _That's_ who you hang out with? That's the kinda company you keep? She was probably gonna rape me any second."

"I don't _hang_ with her. She's my cousin. Twice removed. She's always meddling in my affairs, especially when it comes to rich and powerful men like Clio." Haymitch didn't comment. "She had no business being here. She just wanted to check you out. She's been trying to get me to introduce you two for years."

"Why haven't you?"

"Because you don't do Capitol bitches," Effie said, finishing her drink.

"No, but I do Rebels."

Effie sat down her drink and looked at Haymitch. "I bet you do. Plutarch your type?"

He snatched her, quickly. "Stop fucking teasing me, Trinket. I had to watch you fawn over a Capitol man last night, one I think you might actually have _liked_ and I'm not in the mood for your games."

"I don't like Clio," sighed Effie. "He wants to be a GameKeeper, and not for the same reasons Plutarch wants to be one. I'm not interested."

"What interests you then?"

"Drunk Mentors who don't know what they want, apparently."

His hands slid down her front, and he marveled at the way her body reacted. "Oh, I know what I want, Princess. Just because I haven't… marked you as mine yet doesn't mean I'll be okay with you going on dates. Don't fucking pull a stunt like that again."

He forced his lips on hers until he felt himself grow hard.

Not good. Not good at all.

She didn't get to be rewarded for trying to make him jealous.

He pulled away from her, clearing his throat. "See you around, Trinket."

He left her there, lost in her thoughts. She had to hide her smile for the rest of the day. Last night had been a success, but this morning had been even better.


	191. Protecting Alisa

_DID ANYONE CATCH THAT BOURNE TRAILER DURING THE SUPER BOWL?! I think Jason Bourne is the DUMBEST title EVER but yahhhh whatever THERE'S GONNNA BE A BOURNE 5! LOL. Anyway. *Ahem*_

 _Always wondered why Haymitch ripped out his phone. This could be one reason._

 _The light pink dress Effie is wearing at the Capitol party is the dress Sharon Stone wore to the Critic Choice Awards. It SCREAMED Effie to me. Google it if you didn't see it. =)_

 _PS: The name is pronounced Uh-Lee-Suh or Uh-Lisa_

 **PROTECTING ALISA**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch groaned and stumbled his way into the kitchen. It took him three tries to actually grab the phone – he kept misjudging where it was hanging – blurry vision. Finally, he clutched the phone and breathed a sigh of relief when it finally stopped ringing.

" _What_?" he snarled to whoever was on the other end.

There was a slight pause for a few seconds, and then a simple and soft, "Haymitch?"

He glared at the phone for a few moments and then placed the phone back on his ear. " _Effie_?" he scoffed.

"Yes." Haymitch closed his eyes. _Why_ she was calling him was beyond him. They didn't talk if he wasn't in the Capitol. They had no _reason_ to. He shook his head. He _knew_ he shouldn't have slept with her. She _seemed_ like the type to be clingy. Granted it'd been about six months since the last Game, but still.

"What is it, Effie, and it better be good?" She took a deep breath and Haymitch felt himself sobering up rather quickly. Effie wasn't _quiet_. "Princess? What is it?"

"They want you in the Capitol," she stated.

Haymitch frowned. " _Who_?"

Effie paused again. "Everyone. Next year is the fifteen-year anniversary of your Games, and the Capitol…." Effie paused, and Haymitch felt himself snarling. "Your presence is expected. They want to celebrate."

"If you think for one _fucking_ second—"

"You don't have a choice, Haymitch."

"Wanna bet?" growled Haymitch. "They've already killed everybody I've cared about. What are they gonna do this time? Who are they gonna use over my head?" There wasn't a single person in Panem worthy enough for him to hop on a train and head to the Capitol to be showcased and applauded for being a _murderer_. "Who can they possibly use, Trinket?"

Effie looked down at the picture in her hand, her fingers shaking. She bit her lip, briefly closing her eyes, and then spoke clearly into the phone. "Me."

* * *

Effie Trinket wasn't important _per say_. She'd done enough for him over the years, and he had yet to decide if it were a good thing or not.

As he was currently on a train, on his way to the Capitol, it seemed like a bad thing.

She'd been his Escort for what'll be ten years this May, and they'd certainly had their fair share of differences. He'd never met anyone who'd both made his blood boil and his thoughts wander at the same time. She was annoying, a know-it-all, bossy above all things, and _irritating_.

But she was also _different_ , which she proved by caring about him, and it took him a good five years to ever see it, despite what Chaff, Mags, and Seeder continued to tell him. It took seeing her lose it over his Games five years ago for him to get it.

He'd only really started noticing certain things recently: the difference between her real smile and her Capitol smile; the way her blue eyes shined with happiness around others but dimmed with sadness when they were alone.

As if that weren't enough, she'd certainly stopped judging him over the years. Instead she became somewhat understanding. She'd stopped asking him to stop drinking and instead suggested that he didn't drink as much. They'd reached some sort of agreement over the past few years, and he actually found himself listening to her.

Haymitch Abernathy didn't _listen_ to people.

But he listened to her. She had a way of putting the fear of God in him. It was a mixture between her snarl, her eyes turning to slits, and her sharp nails. She was insane, and he imagined she didn't play fair.

Despite the fact that they had their differences, he'd be damned if he let Snow touch her. _How_ the president of Panem knew that she was leverage enough to go the Capitol for was mind boggling. The two of them fought like cats and dogs. He knew he'd never given anything away. His own best friend had no idea he'd screwed his Escort's brains outs on quite a few occasions.

Still, even if President Snow was just calling his bluff, he'd know tonight. Haymitch's presence would be proof enough. His Escort may not be important, but she was special enough to get him on the first train to the Capitol.

He wanted desperately to drink, but he needed to be somewhat sober for this weekend, at least until he knew Effie was safe. She hadn't said much over the phone—she couldn't. And any chance she might have had of calling back was gone the minute he yanked the phone out of the wall—whether it was from paranoia or anger he didn't know.

When Haymitch finally arrived at the Capitol Chaff was waiting for him.

 _Shit_ , Haymitch thought. If Chaff was here than this event _was_ big. Were all the former Victors here then?

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" asked Chaff, his smile strained.

"How'd you know I was here?" Haymitch said without preamble.

"Plutarch," responded Chaff, and Haymitch nodded. He should have known. "I can't believe they got you to come out here."

"They threatened my Escort."

"Trinket?"

"Do I have another Escort?"

Chaff looked at him. "Are you and her…?"

"No." The lie fell out of his mouth easily enough, even as a picture of their last time flashed in his mind: her, pinned against her bathroom door, one leg draped around his waist, the other on top of her vanity, her nails digging into his hips, his face buried in her neck.

"Didn't think so," nodded Chaff. "But he threatened her?"

"I haven't gotten all the details yet. I'm supposed to be meeting her at the party, whatever the _fucking_ event is."

"The Capitol is quite blood thirsty this year," Chaff explained. "Figuring both Gloss and Cashmere won back-to-back… the Capitol still isn't finished celebrating. They're even thinking about letting both of them go on the Victory Tour in a few weeks. President Snow had to do something in the meantime, and celebrating your Games seemed like the only route to go. Tickets for this party started at ten thousand dollars."

"Guess I'm still a fucking hot commodity then." Haymitch couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice.

"It's only a few events, and then you'll be back home."

* * *

It was easy enough to spot Effie. It was _always_ easy enough to spot her. She was the center of attention, as usual, and Haymitch wasn't sure if it was because they'd slept together for the first time last year, but she looked damned _good_.

Her dress was… different. The gown was floor-length yet still hugged every curve imaginable. The color of pink champagne sequins dazzled every inch of the dress, accented with a simple silver necklace, silver heels, and silver hair pulled back into some fancy up-do. She had a metallic silver clutch to end the ensemble.

She was currently talking with Coral. Haymitch and Chaff shared a glance. The two women didn't exactly get along. It was more than obvious to Haymitch that Coral was jealous of Effie, and had a lot to be jealous of. Effie was prettier, smarter, and a better person all around. Not to mention Effie was ten times more popular and sought after. Because of that Coral never missed an opportunity to try and humiliate Effie.

"Should we sit back and enjoy the show?" asked Chaff.

Haymitch eyed his Escort. Her body was tense, he noted. She was smiling, but it was forced, and her hands kept making their way to her neck. "No."

It didn't take long for Effie to see him. She, apparently, was just as good at picking him out in a crowd as well, and that pleased him way more than he was ready to admit.

The relief evident in her eyes made his stomach swoop.

The crowd seem to recognize him a hair later than Effie had. The cheers were deafening and made him scowl. What they expected from him he didn't know, but he'd already been crowned Victor. He would _not_ be playing their Games today.

He gave Effie a slight nod and made his way to the bar, ignoring the crowd. He knew that she would find him.

* * *

He felt her before he saw her. Or maybe he smelled her. Her scent tended to linger. He felt his back go up but he made a genuine effort to play it cool. He grabbed his glass, took another sip, and waited for her to tap him on the shoulder.

"You came," she breathed, and her voice was thick, her eyes filled with unshed tears. He felt his stomach lurch and immediately sat down his drink.

"Let's get outta here," mumbled Haymitch. "I'll see you later, Chaff." His friend grunted his goodbye and Haymitch and Effie disappeared, heading towards the Penthouse. "You need to calm yourself."

"I am _trying_."

"Try harder." He was being harsh because she needed to control herself. She eyed him, her countenance dark, and he thought _good_ to himself.

The walk to the Penthouse wasn't long, but the air was cool and crisp. He hadn't been to the Capitol in winter since his own Victory Tour, but the cold didn't bother him. Seasons were altered here, and man-made, so the cold didn't compare to the snow in Twelve.

Inside the Penthouse Haymitch told Effie to sit and immediately turned on the television, turning up the volume. He found himself looking at highlights from his own Games and scowled, turning the station.

He'd lived through that enough.

He walked to the bar and poured Effie a glass of white liquor and poured dark for himself. He walked back to the couch and handed Effie her glass and sat next to her.

"What happened?"

Effie sighed and opened her purse, pulling out a photograph of a close up of a young girl with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, smiling. She looked like she could be from the Capitol or District 1. She wasn't looking at the camera. She was sitting at a table eating ice cream.

"This is Alisa. She's my niece, the only child of my brother and his wife. She's only ten. I got a letter in the mail stating that I should do everything in my power to make sure you were here this weekend, or Alisa would suffer the consequences." Effie's voice grew thicker as she talked. "She's practically mine, Haymitch. She's with me every single weekend, save for the Games. Her parents like having the weekend to themselves – to keep the romance alive, they say – and I am more than okay with that. She's my angel." Effie sniffed, looking down at the picture. She looked up at him. "This picture was taken a few days ago. My brother and his wife had an event to attend, so I took care of Alisa."

Haymitch stayed quiet for a long time. "She'll be okay, Effie, all right? We just gotta make sure we play our cards right. If I gotta come to the Capitol, I will. Just send me a letter. I won't let anything happen to your niece."

"I know it's not fair of me to ask." A loan tear fell down Effie's cheek, and Haymitch looked away from the trail sliding down, leaving a small track where her makeup was erased. "I know what my job entails. I pick the names. I get that."

"Stop it." He clutched his glass, taking another drink. He couldn't think like that anymore. She was human, damn it, and she was just as trapped as he was. "I'll do what I need to in order to make sure your niece is protected. Children are innocent, and shouldn't be threatened."

Effie let out a soft sob. "I'm scared, Haymitch."

Haymitch nodded. "I know you are. It'll be okay."

"Promise?"

He shouldn't promise such a thing, and she knew he shouldn't, but he nodded anyway. He could tell she didn't believe him, but a promise was the best he could do.

In a bold move she rested her head on his chest. He allowed it, perhaps to make up for his lie. He pretended not to notice how wet his shirt was getting.

"Sleep now, Princess," murmured Haymitch softly.

"Take me to bed instead," she suggested.

His first instinct told him to deny her, but he was currently in the Capitol months ahead of schedule being forced to celebrate his Games _again_. And he couldn't even get drunk because he _definitely_ had to be on his best behavior. It'd be the perfect distraction, and he imagined not a lot of men denied Effie Trinket – and _that_ had him irritated beyond reason, so he pushed that thought aside as he pushed into her.

He was rough and brutal because that's the only way he knew how to be, but she seemed to enjoy it, and unraveled within minutes. He watched as her body started to relax and respond, and then she was moaning and groaning and he was breathing hard and his head was spinning.

They fell asleep together for the first time that night, and it'd take several more years for it to happen again. The next morning, they pretended like it'd never happened, like they had the last few handful of times it had taken place.

As the years passed Haymitch would ask about Alisa, make sure she was good, that she was okay. Even when they fought and couldn't stand one another, he made sure he asked at least once a year.

And as time passed, as Alisa started to grow older, Effie would take out the old, tattered newspaper clipping of Haymitch when he'd won all those years ago and tell Alisa, "You see this man? This is the man that is saving your life."

Ten years later, on that hovercraft, Haymitch Abernathy would come face-to-face with that ten-year-old girl. She'd smile at him, her blue eyes identical to Effie's, and state,

"Hello. I'm Cressida."

He made sure he didn't cross paths with her too often. She always made him miss Effie even more.

 _Don't ask me where the end came from. I surprise myself sometimes LOL._


	192. In Sickness and in Health

_AVikingandhisHeartbrokenQueen said "You have me crying right now lol. That was really good, sad, but good. Can you write a fic where Hayffie have a baby post mj? Make it an angsty fic lol." I already have stories with a Hayffie baby of course, so I came up with Ember getting sick for the first time, since angst was as of me._

 **IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH**

 **Rated T**

"What _is_ it, Ember?" Haymitch groaned. "You've been crying for _hours_." Haymitch nearly started crying as he paced Ember's nursery, gently bouncing her on his hip. He'd tried feeding her, changing her, rocking her to sleep. Nothing worked.

At that moment Effie appeared. "Give her here," said Effie warily. She snatched Ember, frowning. She didn't understand. Haymitch _always_ calmed her down. Ember was truly her clone, and that included the fact that nobody could calm her down like Haymitch.

Effie was the same.

"What is it, Darling? Talk to Mommy."

She couldn't of course. She was only a year old.

"She's fussy, just like you," said Haymitch gruffly, approaching her. "She's definitely _your_ daughter."

Effie ignored him, wiping her daughter's tears and moving her blonde hair off of her face.

Her breath caught in her throat and Effie frowned again, placing her hand on Ember's forehead. "Haymitch," she whispered. "She's burning up."

Haymitch felt his heart drop into his stomach. "What?"

"Feel her forehead. She's hot."

Haymitch did as he was told, palming her forehead, and inhaled sharply.

It didn't take long for the fear to take over.

Effie immediately recognized it.

"Haymitch, don't panic." She kept her voice firm but calm. She put Ember down in her crib and turned back to Haymitch.

"Effie." His voice shook as his heart pounded, and she knew he was about to slip away. It seemed like every time they got comfortable, something happened. He'd never relapsed before, but nothing had been this serious. Ash's first cold he'd been six. Ava had gotten sick, but she'd never gotten a fever, and she'd been old enough to tell them what was wrong.

Ember wouldn't be so fortunate.

"Haymitch, relax." He wasn't really hearing her, she knew, because his eyes were unfocused, and he kept glancing at Ember in her crib. "Why don't you grab her thermometer?" Haymitch didn't move. " _Haymitch_!" He jumped, and she hated the look in his eyes. "Get her thermometer."

He did as he was told, walking over to the changing table and opening one of the drawers. His hands were shaking, and she frowned. She had to keep him calm. He opened the package and then turned around, clearly lost as to what to do next.

"Clean it with the rubbing alcohol." Haymitch nodded and reached for the alcohol.

He stared at it for a minute, frozen, and Effie was immediately by his side, understanding. He hadn't drunk in a few years, but the fear… the fear was his biggest downfall. More so than their fights, or disagreements, or even the memories of the Games.

But the fear? The fear was incurable.

"Effie," he whispered again.

"Let's get this cleaned so we can take her temperature." He nodded and Effie sterilized the thermometer. Then she grabbed the petroleum jelly, putting it on the tip. She gently rested her hand against Haymitch and together they walked towards the bed, where Ember was still fussing.

It felt like an eternity, and Haymitch aged a million more years as he waited for her temperature to reveal itself.

Effie gripped him tightly as his knees buckled, both of them staring at the triple digit number.

 _102_.

"Haymitch, I need you to breathe." She gripped his cheeks and forced him to look at her. "Go downstairs, and call Mrs. Everdeen."

"I'm not leaving her."

"Darling, please. Just go and call Mrs. Everdeen." He looked like he wanted to argue but she interrupted. "Do it for Ember."

That had him walking out, glancing at Ember one last time. As soon as he was out of sight Effie gripped the crib, her own legs failing. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, taking special care to get herself under control before Haymitch got back up here.

She took one final deep breath and then stared at Ember. "I need you get better, because Daddy will lose it something happens to you. So will I."

She started packing Ember's diaper bag. She already knew she'd have to go to the hospital. Her fever was much too high. Her hands trembled as she prepared to get Ember ready.

 **XxXxXx**

Downstairs Haymitch gripped the phone, his hands still shaking, as he willed himself to calm down. She only had a cold. She was sick. That was normal. Babies get sick. _Adults_ get sick, and they turned out fine.

But how many babies had temperatures of 102 degrees?

 _Please answer, please answer, please answer_ , he thought, because he'd lose his _shit_ if she didn't. They'd be forced to take Ember to a hospital, and he didn't want to do that. It was cold outside, and isn't that what got Ember sick in the first place?

"Hello?"

Haymitch sucked in a harsh breath, and it took him a few seconds to finally be able to say her name. "It's Ember. She's sick. She has a temperature of 102."

A quick pause, and then, "Okay Haymitch, I don't want you to panic."

"Too fucking late," he snapped. "Don't worry about me. Tell me what to do about Ember."

"Let me go and get my book okay? I'll call you right back." He immediately started to argue. "Haymitch, _relax_! Give me _one minute_." And then she was gone. He stared at the phone for a few seconds, and the only thing that stopped him from ripping the phone out of the wall was the fact that his daughter needed him, so he had to wait for her to call back.

Before she called back, though, his door swung open, and in walked in Katniss and Peeta.

"My mother called. Where is she?" asked Katniss without preamble.

Haymitch finally hung up the phone. "Upstairs."

"Okay. Get in touch with Caius and have him get in touch with Dr. Clarence. He's from the Capitol, but knows Dr. Aurelius. I had him stationed here because I know us. We don't trust easily." She was already heading up the stairs before Haymitch could move.

"Relax," said Peeta. "We've got everything under control, Haymitch. I'll go and get Ash and Ava and bring them to my place. We called Pandora and she's keeping an eye on Willow and Rye." Haymitch nodded, and Peeta disappeared upstairs.

He stood there, frozen, for several moments, knowing he was supposed to do something, but he couldn't remember what. After a while Effie came down the stairs. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Katniss and Peeta know what they're doing. Rye was sick a week ago, remember? And he's all better now."

Haymitch nodded. "Yah. Right. Yah."

He needed to call Caius, his Chief of Staff of Security. That's what it was. He reached for the phone, only he couldn't remember the bloody number.

He was losing it.

Effie gently moved him aside. "Who am I calling?"

He told her, and she dialed the number. She handed the phone off to Haymitch, who barked out his orders and then hung up.

"I'm so close, Effie," he whispered.

"I know."

"I'm scared."

"Me too. But we have Katniss and Peeta, okay? And the doctor will be here soon." He nodded as she wrapped him in a hug. She was trembling he realized, proving she was just as afraid as him.

He was being stupid. He was about to lose it, but so was she. In fact she'd probably never been this afraid in her life. He pulled her closer to him and inhaled.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "You don't need to be babying me. I'm just a little freaked out."

At that moment Peeta came back downstairs, with two _very_ sleepy children with him.

"You guys behave for Ms. Pandora, okay? You're staying at Katniss and Peeta's tonight," Effie told them. "Daddy and I will see you in the morning." She and Haymitch had kisses for them, and then they were gone, Peeta promising he'd be back. She turned back to Haymitch. "I need you, Haymitch, just as much as you need me. We can get through this."

He nodded. "Sure." He bit his lip, walking to the fridge to give himself _something_ to do, thoughts of what he'd done wrong going through his head. Had he not bundled her up enough heading to Katniss' earlier? Was it too cold in the house? Were here blankets not warm enough? Maybe the walls were too thin and they needed new insulation and a new heater system.

"Stop it," Effie scolded. "I can hear your brain working now. None of this is your fault. She's sick. Babies get sick. It's _normal_."

"But one hundred and fucking two degrees?" Saying it aloud made him want a drink even more. "She's been fucking crying for _hours_. If I had checked her forehead sooner—"

"You of all people know there is no point in what ifs, Haymitch. If you don't stop you're going to get all worked up, and it'll set me off. I haven't had an episode since we bought Ash home. I don't want to have one now. _Relax_."

He took another deep breath, finally grabbing a water. He screwed off the cap and downed the entire bottle, and then offered her one.

When there was a knock on the door Haymitch went to answer it. He saw Caius he immediately moved aside, letting him in, followed by a polished looking man that he assumed was Dr. Clarence.

They led him upstairs, where Ember was still upstairs fussing. Haymitch gripped Effie's waist as they watched the doctor, Katniss next to Haymitch. After a few moments they heard Peeta clomping back up the stairs.

After what felt like an _eternity_ Dr. Clarence turned to them.

"Her fever's already down," he said, and Haymitch felt the world start to steady. "It's still high. I'd like to stay overnight and keep a close eye on her. I thought that'd be a better alternative then moving her and taking her to the hospital."

Haymitch and Effie both glanced to Katniss, who gave a single nod.

If she trusted him, then they would trust him.

"Should we move her?" asked Haymitch. "Is the room not warm enough? Get her more blankets?"

"No, the room is perfect. We should change her into lighter clothes, though." Effie immediately moved forward and started rummaging through Ember's chest of drawers. "Do you have a timer?"

"Yah," Haymitch respond. "Effie uses it to keep track of feeding."

Dr. Clarence nodded. "Go and get it for me. I want to set it so I can know when to give her more medicine."

Haymitch looked reluctant to leave, so Effie handed him the outfit she wanted Ember to wear. Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder she left the room. She returned a few minutes later and Dr. Clarence smiled at her.

"I've dealt with Katniss, so I'm prepared for the questions and fear. I just ask that you trust me. Your daughter is in good hands. I'll let you change her and I'll be right back to set up."

She let Haymitch change her, because he needed the comfort. She had calmed down a little, though she started to fuss again once Haymitch walked away. At her whimper he was back at her crib. She quieted down as soon as he was in view.

Haymitch smiled. She was definitely Effie's child.

Effie walked beside him. "She'll be okay," said Effie softly, and he nodded.

"I had no idea this is what they'd meant about in sickness and in health," Haymitch told her, wrapping his arms around her.

Effie gave a soft smile, silently agreeing.


	193. Spring Cleaning

_Started as Drabble. Ended as something SO much more._

 **SPRING CLEANING**

 **Rated K**

Effie sighed, blowing her hair out of her face. When that didn't work she brushed her hair out of her face, irritated. She grabbed the last box and walked over to the open window. It was the only source of air she got up here in the attic. _Why_ she had decided she wanted to spring clean now was beyond her. It was _stifling_ up here. It needed air conditioning, she decided. And it needed carpet—her knees were _killing_ her—and this room's lighting was _dreadful,_ so it could really use some new lamps.

She was just starting to think about maybe turning this room into her own—she could certainly use her own space. The children were _everywhere_ , including the bedroom; it'd be nice to have her own area—when she started emptying out the box.

She was picturing patterns and wallpaper and thinking about converting it into a study, with books, lots and lots of books, and turning the attic window into a window seat, when something caught her eye.

She stopped and stared at the object at the bottom of the box, her heart lurching. She bent down, blowing dust off the circular object, thousand of memories hitting her at once.

She still remembered when she approached them. Being a model had its perks, and she had met plenty of people over the years. She'd been allowed to travel to the winning District during the Victory Tour as entertainment, and it had shocked her how differently other Districts lived. The first time she'd ever visited a lower District she'd been horrified. She had assumed that every place was like the Capitol.

The year Cecilia won Effie had been sixteen. She remembered meeting Cecilia. She was beautiful, and a year younger than her, with dark brown hair and tanned skin. By this time Effie had known that the Games might not be all it was cracked up to be. It didn't take her long to realize that people entered the Games one way but came out another way all together. Aside from the Career Districts, whenever Effie visited the winning District, the Victors were always filled with sadness and fear. Effie had always been good at channeling people's emotions.

Effie never knew what it was about Cecilia that made her talk to the Victor, but during dinner Effie asked her, quietly, because even though she was young, she wasn't stupid, "You won. Why do you look so sad?"

The girl had looked up at Effie, her dark eyes swirling with unhappiness, and said, "There are never any winners. Only Victors. Don't ever forget that."

At that moment a dark-skinned girl approached them, her hair in braids, a small smile on her face. She approached them, bending down so that she was eyelevel with them.

"Effie, this is my best friend, Chenille Paylor," stated Cecilia. "Chenille, this is Effie Trinket." Effie gave the girl a small smile.

"You look awfully sad for someone who's a Capitol," she had said to her.

"The Games are bad, aren't they?" whispered Effie.

Paylor had stiffened, glancing at Cecilia. "Effie, that's a very dangerous thing to say. I don't ever want to hear you say something like that again."

"Because they're bad." Paylor stared at Effie for a long moment, their eyes never leaving each other.

"Yah. They're bad, all right."

"I don't like them," Effie had stated matter-of-factly.

"Yah, well, it's the way it is. Now you straighten up and fly right, and don't ever let anyone hear you talk like that, unless you trust them beyond a shadow of a doubt. Your life depends on it."

Later on, when Effie was about to leave, headed back to the train that would take her back to the Capitol, Paylor called for her. She told her small team to go ahead and get on the train and Effie turned around to wait on Paylor.

"You're different, you know that?" Paylor asked without preamble.

"That's _rude_ ," said Effie.

"It's not a bad thing, trust me." She bit her lip as she stared at Effie. "Were you serious? About how you felt?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

Paylor reached up and started playing with a small necklace around her neck. "Can I trust you, Effie?"

"Of course."

Paylor unsnapped the necklace. "Hold out your hand." Effie did as she was told and Paylor gently placed the necklace in her palm. Effie opened her hand and gasped. "Do you know what that is?"

"Yes. It's a Mockingjay."

"Do you know what a Mockingjay is?"

Effie shook her head. "Just that Maysilee had it as her Token a few years ago."

"It's much more than that. It's the ultimate symbol of Rebellion. Jabberjays were supposed to be destroyed, not mate with mockingbirds and become their own creature. Have you ever met Haymitch? The Victor from two years ago?"

"No. That year Snow wouldn't let 12 have their own feast. There were rumors… horrible rumors." Effie shook her head.

"They're true, Effie. The Capitol did that. The Capitol killed that man's family, and for what? Because he defied the Capitol with the way he won?" Effie pictured the handsome Victor, with his curls and bright grey eyes. Just the thought of him made her stomach swoop.

"What do you need from me?" asked Effie fiercely.

Paylor sized her up. "Your loyalty. To the Revolution. To the Rebellion. To the future Mockingjay, wherever he or she is."

She clutched the necklace. "Done."

"We need people like you. We need people from the Capitol. We have a few people in place, but…. You're famous. You can reach people. When you get back home, I want you to contact Plutarch Heavensbee."

"Okay."

"Effie…." Paylor bit her lip and stared at the future Escort. "This is serious. You can't ever tell anybody. Not until the Revolution has started. You _have_ to play your cards right. You can't afford to slip once. Me even talking to you like this is risky. Plutarch will be furious when he finds out. Don't make me regret this."

"I won't," whispered Effie.

"Good. Your life depends on it. And so does Panem's. I'm sure we'll meet again. Take care of yourself, Ms. Trinket."

Plutarch had damn near tortured her to get her trained, but she'd survived. She'd learned how to mask away her disgust, her hatred, her _anger_ at it all, and use it. She learned how to read people, how to dissect their breathing.

She became a pro.

When Plutarch said he wanted her to become an Escort, she accepted her assignment without argument. Anything for the greater good.

She still didn't know what magic Plutarch worked in order to get her District 12, but she went along with it.

It didn't take her long to realize she had had her work cut out for her.

"Effie? Are you okay?"

She gasped as his arms slid around her waist. "Haymitch. I didn't hear you," she said, turning to look at her husband.

"Obviously. I've been calling you for a few minutes now." She looked at him, blinking rapidly.

"I'm sorry," she told him, turning around. "I'm okay." She kissed him softly. "Where are the kids?"

"Taking their nap," said Haymitch, his lips on her neck. He always got extra affectionate with her when he thought she was back in that cell.

"I'm okay," she repeated softly. "I was just thinking."

"Don't want you to hurt yourself, Princess."

"So rude." She pushed him away, a smile tugging on her lips.

"How's the spring cleaning coming along?"

"It'd have gone much better if you'd _helped_."

"I told you from the very beginning I wasn't going to," he reminded her. He _hated_ spring-cleaning. Who knew what he'd find up here. Probably memories of things better off left in a box.

"Well as payment for making me do _all_ the work—"

"Which you should be used to," muttered Haymitch.

"I'm turning the attic into my own personal space," Effie continued as if he hadn't interrupted.

"Wait. What?"

"Yes. I want it to be a study with books and comfortable chairs and—"

"Stop. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it."

Effie laughed. "Look what I found." She held out her Mockingjay necklace and he slowly grabbed it.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes. It's the one Paylor gave me after Cecilia's Games."

"What's it doing up here?" asked Haymitch.

"I've no idea," said Effie, fingering it. "I didn't even know it was missing. So many years of hiding it, I suppose…."

"I still can't believe you were a plant, and that it took you so long to tell me."

"Yes, well, once I figured out that Snow was making Finnick sell himself, I had to do something. So I told him about you and Chaff."

"It still took you a few more years to tell me after that."

"Yah, well, that is neither here nor there. I told you eventually, didn't I?"

"No more secrets, right? Real or not real?"

She smiled at him. "Real." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again.

"What do you say we take advantage of the kids being asleep and you let me have my way with you?" He grabbed the necklace and held it up. "I'd _love_ to take full advantage of this. I've never seen you wear it. I think it'll look good against your naked flesh. We should take full advantage of what you found during spring cleaning, yah?"

"I say okay." She started untying her hair, shaking her blonde curls loose. "I need you to be in a good mood when we discuss the budget for the remodel."

"Effie, we are not remodeling the attic. I'm the man, and I'm putting my foot down. I wear the pants, so what I say goes."

Effie gripped him through his pants, and one would think that that wouldn't affect him anymore, because it was her signature go-to move, but his heartbeat started to speed up nonetheless.

"You may wear the pants, Darling, but it is I who controls the zipper." She grinned at him and headed towards the stairs. She arched an eyebrow as she walked away, and then beckoned him with her finger.

She was going to get the room. His poor attic would be gone forever. It was a lost cause, he already knew. Still, he had to make an effort to fight her. He couldn't just _spoil_ her, could he now?

He looked at the Mockingjay necklace in his hand and followed his wife down the stairs and into their bedroom. She _deserved_ her own space. A place where she could proudly display her alliance to the Mockingjay. To the Revolution. To the Rebellion. To _him_.

He decided that spring-cleaning wasn't such a bad thing after all.

 _A/N: So I know in the books it says Cecilia and Paylor are "around 30," but Katniss is guessing their ages. What if they just aged well? Especially because she's a Victor. Who's to say Cecilia didn't get work done? I'm saying all that to say that in my story, I had to make Cecilia a little bit older for this to really work, but I still wanted it to be canon, so I'm just gonna say Katniss guessed their ages wrong LOL. So at the time of the Quarter Quell Cecilia is about 37, as is Paylor. I have her winning the 53_ _rd_ _Hunger Games. The inspiration to make them best friends came out of nowhere, but I always wanted to know what made people who weren't Victors become Rebels. I thought having Cecilia and Paylor as friends might be how Paylor becomes involved. I also thought she'd need a real reason to become a_ _ **leader.**_ _She's_ _ **Commander**_ _Paylor. So how did she get that title? Why were her loyalties with the Rebellion? I think having a best friend being Reaped might give you that motivation (hello, Gale). So this also gave a little background for Paylor as well._

 _Also, for the stories with Ash and Ava (as well as Real, Not Real), where Effie is not only a rebel but a spy, I want it clear that she was a plant—she was chosen to be an Escort. It's kind of how I think of Cinna. I think he was a plant as well. That's what this story was supposed to be about—what/how/why Effie became a spy. Coin would have never been Effie's point of contact, so someone else had to be. It ended up being Paylor and Plutarch. Also, I think Plutarch and Coin would have had more contact than Paylor and Plutarch, but for the sake of this story, I'm going to say Paylor took a special interest in Effie, so Plutarch sent her regular updates._

 _This all came into my head because of the line where Effie says, "Oh no, not Cecilia," when she finds out she was Reaped. When inspiration strikes, it strikes! Lol. I hope all of this made sense._


	194. Not So Happily Ever

_Nikatsu_ _suggested the worst prompt of all time LOL. I don't see how this prompt is Hayffie LOL but I'll give it a go. "I've got a prompt for you. It's post-MJ where Effie comes to 12 to personally deliver wedding invitations to her own wedding with another man. I have this idea that Haymitch might mock her for falling for another Capitol but then finds out that she's actually marrying a District man from where she'd been hiding/living at for some time. Maybe she didn't even want invite Everlark and Haymitch but her fiance convinced her to, stating that "you don't leave family behind just because things got rough" and that her team is and always will be her family. Maybe her invitation to Haymitch leads to a shouting match. Maybe it might even lead to a night she/he calls a mistake the next day. Maybe she stays or he asks her to leave. Maybe he finds himself attending her wedding anyway, in the shadows where she doesn't see him. Maybe he stops the wedding or maybe not. Up to you. I just really want you to explore the idea of Effie not coming ending up with Haymitch at all and him trying to come to grips with it._

 _Idk. Have fun with it. I'm sure you'll find a way to make it better."_

 **NOT SO HAPPILY EVER AFTER**

 **Rated T+ for strong language**

'Is this a fucking _joke_?" asked Haymitch, staring at the invitation.

"Language, Haymitch," Effie sighed, and he gaped at her.

"You come here, to my house after ten years, with a fucking wedding invitation, and you wanna talk about my _language_?" Haymitch barked out a bitter laugh and headed towards the kitchen. "I haven't fucking heard from you in _ten years_ and the first time I do, it's to invite me to your wedding."

He snorted as he grabbed a glass, reaching for the last bottle of alcohol.

The alcohol he hadn't touched in six years.

"Does that mean you're not coming?" asked Effie quietly.

He turned to her. "You think I'd actually go to the _Capitol_ and watch you marry a Capitol man? Where will you have the wedding, Snow's mansion? Maybe we could have the reception in the same cell you were tortured in."

She paled and he turned away, pouring himself a glass, his hands shaking. He gripped the glass so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"I'm not marrying a man from the Capitol. I've been living in 4 for the past ten years and…."

His heart sunk down to his stomach, and he inhaled sharply. He stared at he glass, remembering the things it could do for him.

"I thought you were sober," said Effie. "That's what the kids said, anyway."

"What the fuck do you care?" He looked at the glass, willing himself to put it down, but it all just fucking hurt _so bad_. It wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. Nobody was supposed to be able to hurt him again.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"Then why the _fuck_ are you here?"

"I thought you'd be happy?"

He spun around again and looked at her. "Are you stupid?" She blinked at him. "Why did you come here, Effie? Really. Honestly. Was it to hurt me? 'Cause I gotta tell you, Princess, it's worked."

"I'd never want to hurt you, Haymitch." She was getting emotional, he could tell. Her eyes welled with tears and her hands started shaking. "I came because Dylan said we should invite you all to the wedding, that I shouldn't turn my back on my family."

"Family," spat Haymitch. "So, what, I'm like a brother to you?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Yah 'cause I wasn't family when I was screwing your brains out. And I damn sure wasn't family when I asked you to come back to 12."

"You _left_ me, Haymitch," she finally snapped, pounding her fist on the table. "We were supposed to be a team, and you left me. Not just in the Capitol, you left me in the dark. And you _knew_ where my loyalties lied. You knew I stood with the Rebellion. I stood with _you_. I've _always_ stood with you. Yet you still left me. How was I supposed to forgive that? So you rescued me and thought I'd come back here to you? I could barely look at you, let alone love you."

Haymitch stood still, dumbfounded at the way Effie Trinket _finally_ lost control.

"I waited _years_ for you to see me, and you never did. But you showed me your true colors. They say love is blind. You leaving me was the best thing you could have done. It showed me you could never care about me the way I needed you to."

"Are you finished?" he asked quietly, and Effie stared at him, her lip trembling.

"I didn't mean that."

"Yah you did. And I'm sure it's a relief, to finally be able to say what it is you've wanted to say to me after all this time. Hopefully coming here and _destroying_ me was worth it. Have a happy life, Effie." He raised his glass to her. "Here's to happily ever after."

He slammed the drink down and started to head upstairs when he heard her chair scrape against the wood floors. Then her heels were clicking, louder as they approached him.

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to be mad at me. We haven't spoken in ten years—"

"I've looked for you for ten years! Don't you bloody _dare_. You went off to 4 to _hide_ and convince yourself I was this horrible person so you could feel better about what happened to you. Don't you fucking _dare._ Because I looked for you, Effie. You were the one who left when I asked you to stay. You didn't let me love you. You never gave me the fucking chance. You held on to the anger and you let it destroy you."

"And what did you do, Haymitch? What did _you_ do after Nova died? You sure as hell didn't love. You held on to something too. I learned from the best."

"I held on to the _fear_ , Effie! What the _fuck_ have you ever been afraid of? Before they tortured you when were you ever afraid? Do you know what they would have done to you if they'd known I cared about you? If they ever fucking suspected us…." He slipped back, just for a moment, his eyes going vacant. "I was doing you a favor. I was saving your life long before the fucking Revolution."

She stilled, blinking rapidly.

"I left you in the Capitol because I thought you were safer. That was my fault. I've apologized for that. I live with that guilt every fucking day. But you're here, handing me more piles of guilt, and I'll take it, so you can go and marry _Dylan_ this weekend and live the life you were always supposed to."

"Don't _take_ that tone with me." She pushed him, her eyes blazing, and his face darkened.

"Don't ever fucking touch me, Effie."

She never listened, but he was still surprised when she pushed him again.

He snarled and grabbed her, pushing her against the wall, his face near hers, his breathing hard.

"I will fucking kill you," he threatened.

"No you won't," said Effie softly, and just like that he let her go. She dropped the few feet to the floor.

Her lips were on his before he could think, and then clothes were off and he took her, violently, against the wall, and he couldn't help but wonder if _Dylan_ could fuck her like this. Could he make her cum multiple times? Did his name fall out of her mouth this easily?

Did she beg him for more?

He panted and exploded inside of her, Effie following close behind.

"Oh my God," Effie whispered.

"Shut up," snapped Haymitch, and picking her up he made his way upstairs and to his room

He had no clue who her fiancée was, but he didn't exist for the next several hours.

He was quite pissed when he woke up the next morning and she was gone.

 **XxXxXx**

Effie stood at the alter, in her cream colored dress, staring into the green eyes of Dylan. He looked absolutely perfect in his matching cream suit, his thick red hair blowing softly in the breeze.

She never thought she'd get to this moment: marrying the perfect man, on a perfect day, at sunset, on the beach, surrounded by those she cared about the most. Her dress was beautiful, her makeup impeccable, her hair perfect. She'd waited all her life for this moment.

So why she was standing there, unable to say the magic words, was beyond her.

"Effie?" asked Dylan, and she blinked at him. "He asked you a question." The audience laughed, and Dylan's eyes danced with amusement. He had no idea how conflicted she was. He would have never suspected the doubts running through her mind. He thought it was a joke.

As if this question deserved a simple answer.

 _Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?_

She should say I do. Of course she did. This is the moment she's been waiting for since she was a little girl. It was everything she'd ever imagined, and then some. It was magical, beautiful even, something out of a fairytale.

So why couldn't she say it?

She dug her bare feet into the sand, covering her bright red polish. Her eyes darted from Dylan to the Officiate. They both stared at her expectantly. She took a deep breath to respond, and then—

"Do you?"

Effie's head whipped behind her and her breath caught in her throat.

He was here.

He came.

And he'd even followed protocol and wore cream, like all the others. His feet were bare, his hair blowing in the wind, his grey eyes standing out against his face. For all of his imperfections, he was perfect, she decided.

"Dylan," said Effie, staring at him. He was _too_ perfect, she figured. She couldn't remember a single time he'd raised his voice at her. And he didn't know her. Not at all. Not like Haymitch did.

Haymitch, who knew just what she needed, and when she needed it, which is why he showed up, right here, right now.

Dylan stared at her, his eyebrows raised.

"I know it's terribly rude of me, and not at all proper, but no…. No I don't. I _can't_ , really. I can't be your wife. I don't want to be your wife." She turned to Haymitch. "I'm still in love with someone else."

She saw the relief pass over Haymitch's face, and the fear that she might be too late went away just as quickly as it came.

She left the alter, stumbling in the sand, but it didn't stop her from trying to run to him. He met her halfway, and she was more than ready for him. She threw her arms around him, damn near sobbing.

"I'm so sorry," she told him. "Please let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

He responded with a kiss, and neither of them noticed as the crowd disbursed, clearly confused. Annie, Johanna, Peeta, Katniss, and Mrs. Everdeen would all be waiting for her at the house, she knew, but for now, none of them existed.

"I can't believe you're here," whispered Effie.

"I almost didn't come. I couldn't bare the thought of seeing you marry another man, or make the biggest mistake of your life."

"Second biggest. My first biggest mistake was not going back to 12 in the first place."

He gave her a soft smile, his thumbs wiping the tears on her cheek. He looked at her for several moments. "You know I can't give you happily ever after, right? I'm too damaged for that."

"I don't want happily ever after, Haymitch. I want _you_ , and whatever that entails. I've always just wanted you, for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I forgot."

"S'okay. Just don't ever forget again." He kissed her again. "And I'm not sayin' we won't have happy times. We will. It just won't be happy all the time."

Effie smiled. "I can live with not so happily ever after, Haymitch."

And they left, hand in hand, to go and live not so happily ever after.

 _I TRIED to let her marry someone else. My fingers literally wouldn't let me type it out._


	195. Room 14

_Ever stopped writing one story to write another one? Definitely happened to me with this one. This idea came to me while writing Let me Count the Ways LOL._

 **ROOM 14**

 **Rated M**

She used to like her room. She really did. It was warmer than some in the colder months, and cooler than others during the hotter months. It was neat and tidy, and a little bit bigger than some people's, because it was a corner room. She also liked it because she didn't have to share with anybody.

Well, that wasn't necessarily true.

Apparently she shared it with Effie and Haymitch.

Which is why she no longer liked her room.

She lied there, in her bed, listening them go at it _again_. She didn't understand how they found the energy. She was worn out just listening to them. Apparently he couldn't keep his hands off of her, though, or more appropriately, or inappropriately, he couldn't stay off of her.

Or maybe Effie was on top. Who knew? Maybe they took turns.

She didn't _want_ to think about it, but she kind of had to, because they wouldn't stay off each other. She'd never heard them at night before. Normally it was only on Wednesdays, at noon. Why this random night?

She wondered if it had to do with the mission. Coin had announced that the Victors had been rescued, and would be coming back to 13. Maybe they were celebrating. It was a known fact that Effie's room was closer to Command—at least as far as rooms go—so maybe they couldn't make it to Haymitch's room.

They certainly hadn't wasted anytime the first time. One minute her door was opening, and the next thing she knew, she was hearing Effie's moans. For the first time it didn't last that long. Wednesdays always did. This time, though, neither of them lasted a long time. She had just started drifting off to sleep again, hoping that'd be it for the night, when she heard the bed creaking.

The second time lasted _forever_. She heard giggles from Effie. Curses from Haymitch. Moans from Effie. Grunts from Haymitch. It was like clockwork. They seemed truly in tune to each other, too.

After the second round she was convinced they'd be too exhausted to do anything but sleep for the rest of the night, but nope. Her eyes popped open wide when Haymitch's voice boomed out.

He was having a nightmare.

And then there was silence.

Until there wasn't.

And then there were moans, and groans, and grunts, and even more curse words. They continued to go at it, and she briefly pictured their bodies flushed with sweat. She eased the thought out of her mind as quickly as it came. There was no way she was about to imagine _that_.

She could barley look them in the face when she served them food.

She heard them climax together—they were good at that—and then there was silence again. She hoped this was it. She couldn't handle anymore of this.

She hoped this would be their last night in room 15.

Because she was certainly starting to hate being in room 14.


	196. Kryptonite

_My Pastor was making an analogy and he referenced Superman and Kryptonite and somehow my heathen brain thought of Hayffie. He made the statement that just because Kryptonite weakened Superman didn't stop him from being Superman._

 **KRYPTONITE**

 **Rated M**

Everything about her _bothered_ him, from her blinding outfits to her stupid wigs to her high-strung voice.

Unless he was ripping it off of her body, or from atop her head, or she was screaming his name.

Haymitch hated her for the first most part, but more than anything he hated the way he couldn't stay away from her. The way she could get his blood boiling so much so that he'd push her against the wall and pump into her as if he were possessed.

There was that one time a few years ago when he'd caught her flirting with a man from a Capitol and he'd dragged her away from the party and had his way with her inside the car, until the windows were fogged and they had bruises on their skin.

He always hated himself afterwards, yet he couldn't bloody stay away. Every time he told himself he was done she'd find away to piss him off again, and it was just easier to give in to the feeling than go to bed aching.

She was willing, and he was horny, and the sex was good and convenient.

Only things were complicated now.

Where he used to just push her against or on top of the nearest surface, now he was trying to convince himself that he should leave her bed. _She_ was already asleep, snoring softly, and where he would have never known she snored, now he did, and the sound was actually putting him to sleep, because damn it he'd gotten used to it.

He was still breathless and winded, because they'd just gone _another_ round, and they'd never done that before. They had quickies, quick and convenient sex when the mood struck and when their tempers were high.

But then they had a pair of fighters on their hands, and suddenly he was soberer, and for the first time he was really _seeing_ Effie. He'd always seen her, but he could drown himself in a bottle without having to think about her, only he couldn't exactly drink, could he? Only a few days into being sober he was inside of her and something _changed_.

She was weakening him. He'd taken special care to never let anyone in. Not after everything he'd been through. He wasn't supposed to give a damn, yet he'd certainly secured her back in 11 hadn't he, when those gunshots sounded? He hadn't even _meant_ to. It just happened, and then, before dinner, he'd pulled her to his room and fucked her against the wall, hiding her screams of pleasure with a kiss, relieved that she was alive, that they were alive. He left her after that, shaking with both desire and confusion. Before the night was over he'd slipped into her bed and whispered out, "I was so scared I lost you," before gliding in and out of her, slowly, gently, meticulously, deliberately.

And then he fell asleep in her bed, and woke up with his arms around her, and somehow he allowed her to climb on top of him and rock his world again. They didn't fall asleep together or wake up together or have morning sex. They had hate sex.

At least they were supposed to.

For someone who had hated the Capitol since long before his Games, he certainly had something dangerous going on with Effie Trinket.

She would _ruin_ him, he mused as he grunted out her name. She had him wondering about stupid things like love and happily ever after, and making things okay again. He _missed_ her when she was away, and was glad that she'd finally forgiven him for abandoning her, for abandoning the team.

There used to be a time he dreaded this moment. He used to deny himself from Effie for as long as he could, until it became unbearable and he couldn't withhold it any longer. Now, though, he could barely stay off of her. She'd only been back a few months and they'd already slept together more times than he could count, and she had him begging and pleading and moaning.

She mumbled out his name, clutching his back, and allowed the pleasure to release. She cried out into the night, rolling them over so that she could lead, her hips jerking into his. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts and he cursed. She rode him like a wave, and the pleasure crashed around him until he was dry.

Panting Effie came again, and he grabbed her, burying his face in her neck, breathing deeply as the pleasure finally died down. Effie whimpered, bringing her lips to his, and the two of them kissed like their lives depended on it.

In some ways, it did. He was _lost_ without her. It was crippling and weakening him, because he'd grown accustomed and dependent on her. She was everything to him, when she was supposed to be nothing. She undid him, undid his very being, his very soul.

"I love you," she told him. She could do that now… say things like that. He'd never be able to say it back, but he figured he showed her well enough now. He pulled her closer, kissing her again.

"You're my fucking Kryptonite, Princess," he snarled into her neck.

" _That_ is _rude_. I'd much rather think of myself as Lois Lane. Either way you are my Superman."

She snuggled into him and he wrapped his arms around her, a small smile on his lips. He'd never thought of her like that. He'd spent so much time thinking about how she'd made him fragile when it came to his feelings, but he was wrong. She was his Lois Lane.

Some days she _was_ his Kryptonite. She could drive him up a wall, that's for sure. Yet she didn't really weaken him, but had made him stronger. And like she said, either way, Kryptonite or Lois Lane, he was still Superman.


	197. It Takes a Fool

" _Have you done a story with Mags in it? I'm not too sure whether she'd like Effie cause she can see Effie is a good person or whether she'd dislike Effie cause she can see Haymitchs attraction and it won't come to any good pre-war since Effie is Capitol...It's a bit similar to the stories with Chaff & Jo so will understand if it's a no go...I'll try to think of something a bit more original... Keep up the great work looking forward to reading Panem Christmas Carol" –nkneeshaw_

 _Title taken from the group the Spinners "Love Don't Love Nobody."_

 **IT TAKES A FOOL**

 **Rated K**

Mags stared at Finnick, prouder than ever, and sadder than ever. He'd been a great Tribute, but he wouldn't be a great Victor. He was too attractive, and she'd always known that, from the minute she saw him and helped raise him. She'd prayed that he wouldn't be Reaped, but God had proven He'd forgotten about His people a long ago.

She couldn't decide if she was relieved or not that he'd won.

Should she hate that Sponsor who'd gotten him that trident, or should she be grateful? On one hand, someone who was very much like her son survived the Arena. On the other hand, someone who was very much like her son survived the Hunger Games. It was a catch twenty-two if she ever saw one.

She already knew what would happen to him. She'd been in this business a long time. She knew the fate that waited for him. She wasn't sure how she would prepare him.

For now he was innocent, and would be for the next four years. Right now he still relieved to be alive, and even giddier to be dancing with Effie Trinket. The boy had had a crush on her as long as she could remember, and she found it truly amusing. When she had met up with him, after he'd been fixed up in surgery, the first thing he said was, "I'll get to meet Effie Trinket now. Maybe she'll dance with me."

Mags had laughed, and sure enough, with the confidence that could only be described as the essence of Finnick O'dair, he approached Effie and asked her to dance. She'd clearly been flattered, and had obliged.

That was about four dances ago.

"I think your Victor is quite taken with my Escort," said an amused Haymitch.

Mags turned to him, a small smile on her face. "I'm surprised you find this funny. Normally you're quite possessive when it comes to Effie."

Haymitch scowled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She stared at him, and then glanced at her Victor.

She didn't respond.

 **XxXxXx**

"Stop ogling my Escort, boy," snapped Haymitch. "You've been looking at her like that for years now."

Finnick shared a glance with Chaff, Seeder, and Johanna, a smile on his face, his eyes dancing with amusement. They all smirked back at him. "Don't worry, Haymitch. We all know Effie only has eyes for you."

"And _you_ only have eyes for your Escort," Seeder snickered. They all shared a laugh at his expense and Haymitch scowled.

"Shut up. None of you know what it is you're talkin' about."

Chaff snorted and Haymitch shot him a look.

"Will you at least let me dance with her? I always do, every year," said Finnick.

"What do I care?"

"Well I don't want you slamming your first into my face like you did with Effie's boyfriend last year."

"He called me a drunk."

"You _are_ a drunk. We call you a drunk all the bloody time, and you've never hit one of us." Finnick's eyes were dancing again.

"Keep testing my patience, boy, and who knows what'll happen?"

"You mean if I dance with Effie you _will_ hit me?"

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "I won't hit you for dancing with my Escort."

"Are you sure? Or maybe you'll throw up all over me like you did with Effie's boyfriend a couple of years ago."

"He was in my way," muttered Haymitch.

Chaff cackled out a laugh. "Oh please. You left the bar, walked up to him, and threw up all over his suit, just as he started kissing Effie."

"Face it: dating Effie around you is quite dangerous," grinned Seeder.

"And I don't have my trident to ward me off from your knife," Finnick agreed. "Just like Johanna didn't have her axe to face off against your knife when you heard her talking bad about Effie."

"She called her out her name. Nobody talks bad about my Escort except me." He took another drink.

"You're bloody brainless for liking your Escort."

"I don't like my Escort," snapped out Haymitch.

"Then you won't mind if I call her a—" Johanna choked on her words at the look Haymitch gave her. "Never mind. Just know it's fucking weird as shit." Johanna threw back another drink and then stalked off.

At that moment Chaff's Escort walked up to him, demanding he leave the bar and go meet with a Sponsor. Chaff rolled his eyes, finished the rest of his drink, and then disappeared, Seeder following behind him.

Finnick arched an eyebrow. "Oh get on with it, then." Finnick smiled a thank you and walked off to dance with Effie.

"I don't think it's all that weird," said a voice. Haymitch turned around and found himself looking at Mags. She was getting up there, now, but still had to Mentor because Annie was in no shape to do so. He arched an eyebrow at her. "You and Effie." She walked up to him, her eyes resting on Effie's pink wig. "You should stop referring to her as your Escort. I know a Rebel when I see one."

Haymitch's heart caught in his throat.

"She might not be _all_ Rebel. But she's definitely not all Capitol." Mag's voice was low, and Haymitch could barely hear her over the crowd, but he understood her well enough.

"I'm not into my Escort," Haymitch told her with a sigh.

"Yes you are. And she's definitely into you." She looked back at him. "I see the way she looks at you, and the way you look at her. I'm old, Haymitch. There's not much I haven't seen."

"Yah? You ever seen an Escort and a Mentor?"

"No. And I probably won't live to see it. But it's a nice thought."

"No it's not."

Mags rolled her eyes. "You've always been stubborn. I still remember you in your Games." Haymitch inhaled sharply. He _hated_ talking about his Games, but if he let anyone do so, it was other Victors. "You decided to hate everything Capitol from the moment your family and girl were killed. But it's not that simple, Haymitch."

"It is."

"You're in love with her." Haymitch stilled. "You don't want to be as old as me and finally accepting it. That girl would do anything for you. I understand you, somewhat. I never married, either. But I see Annie and Finnick together, and it makes me feel lonely."

"Finnick fell in love with another Victor. You're suggesting I'm in love with an _Escort_?"

"An Escort who's taken care of you for nearly twenty years, Haymitch. An Escort who's saved your ass a few times, too. In all my years, I've never met one like her. Not even close."

"Do you know what would happen, if word got out that I—" He stopped himself. "If _anyone_ suspected that she—"

"I'm not saying parade around in all of Panem. I'm not saying act foolishly, Haymitch." She glanced at the nearly empty glass in his hand. "You do that enough." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "You don't have to act foolishly," she repeated firmly. "I'm not saying hold her hand and kiss her in public. But if you wanna pin her against the wall in your Penthouse, the Penthouse that Beetee interferes with… I think maybe you won't be so mean anymore."

Haymitch snorted, refusing to think about what Mags might have been like in her prime.

"She's my Escort," he told the old woman. "What sense would it make to get involved? When we're one spark away from war? Plutarch is moving up. He could be GameKeeper any day now. All we need is that blasted spark. And then what? Effie and I will surely stand on different sides when it's all said and done."

"I truly pity you, Haymitch. You're so broken that you refuse to look passed the surface of things. You take the easy way you. That's truly unfortunate, because I don't think I've ever met a kinder woman than Effie. You know she buys time with Finnick so he doesn't have to sleep with the entire Capitol all weekend? She does that, because she _cares_." She looked out at Effie and Finnick. Haymitch didn't respond. He hadn't known that. "The wise are wise only because they love. The fool are fools only because they think they can understand love.' That's a quote by Paulo Coelho." She looked back at him, their eyes locking. "Don't be a fool, Haymitch."

With that, they white-haired woman disappeared into the crowd, leaving him with his foolish thoughts.

Sometimes he didn't know who the bigger fool was for playing this game, him or Effie.


	198. Haymitch's Logic

**HAYMITCH'S LOGIC**

 **Rated M- detailed smut**

He led Effie to his room, his hand on the small of her back, a scowl on his face. Inside he closed the door, locking it behind him. He took a few moments to calm himself down, taking a few deep breaths. When he turned around Effie was leaning against his desk, watching him warily.

"Haymitch—"

"Shut up," snarled Haymitch, walking up to her. He didn't waste any time or beat around the bush. He just yanked her towards him and crushed his mouth to hers, his lips hot as fire, his tongue making its way down her throat. It took her about half a second to react properly, and then she was moaning and her body was responding.

His hands were everywhere—first up her front, gripping her breasts over her dress, and then around her back and over her ass. He snaked his hand underneath her dress and growled: just as he suspected, she wasn't wearing any underwear.

He picked her up and slammed her down on the desk, spreading her legs. He kept his lips locked to hers as he struggled with unzipping his pants. She was making it awfully hard with the way she was attempting to pull him on top of her, but eventually he got his pants down.

He wasted no time in entering her, roughly, violently, _angrily_ , and the sound she made had him covering her mouth.

"Shut _up_ ," he snapped again, and then his lips were back on hers. He rocked into her with short, vicious thrusts. She threw her head back, crying out again, and he grunted when her hips started meeting his. "Hold on to me," gasped out Haymitch, and with heavily lidded eyes Effie wound her legs around Haymitch's waist. He kept thrusting as he let go of her waste and started working on the front buttons of her dress.

The lust had his hands shaking, and in the end he just ripped open the dress, her buttons flying everywhere. He nearly came when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra either. _Fuck_. He immediately grabbed her breasts, causing her to gasp, and then he bent over, his mouth making contact with them and making her moan. He took one hand and covered her mouth and started rocking even faster.

Her first orgasm clawed its way through her body and she erupted, her nails digging into his flesh. His body jerked on its own accord but he kept his hand tightly closed around her mouth as she screamed out his name against his palm.

Her hands found their way to his head and yanked his head from her chest. She put her lips back on his and he greedily devoured her, his callused hands replacing his mouth. Her body trembled and he pulled her closer, entering her even deeper.

She gasped, arching her back, and the mixture of the angle and how sharp his thrusts were had the desk banging against the wall.

She whimpered and groaned. "Don't stop, Haymitch," she grunted in his ear. "God, don't stop." He continued his penetration until she came again, and then he picked her up and spun her around. She arched her back as he entered her from behind, gasping as his hands found the way to her breasts.

She didn't understand how after only a few short weeks, he knew her body the way he did.

His thrusts were powerful, and demanding, and fierce, and kept providing sensation after sensation, and once again she couldn't control herself. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as she felt the pleasure start to consume her. She was there, right there, and close, so close—

He pulled out, leaving her frustrated, and turned her around. He was back inside of her in a matter of seconds, quick enough for her frown to relax and her eyes to roll back into head.

"I wanna see you when you cum," he told her throatily. They watched each other, his eyes never leaving hers. "Cum," he demanded, and she unraveled. "Say my name."

"Haymitch." She called it out so easily, and it nearly undid him. Instead he sped up, telling her to say his name again, and again, and again, and she all too happily obliged.

When he told her to cum again she threw back her head and came at the same time he did. He thrust into her with a fervor she hadn't seen before, his hand wrapping around her throat. He didn't squeeze it tightly, but the rush gave her an orgasm like never before.

Normally he'd fall on top of her afterwards, but this time he stayed inside of her. She could barely breathe as it was, and doubted very much she could go another round, and was about to tell him this when he spoke.

"Next time, tell him no." He was using _that_ tone, that tone that told the world he couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't be argued with.

Effie stared at him, immediately understanding what all of this was about.

"I'm quite possessive, Effie." His countenance was dark, and she realized that he was serious. "I don't share well. I don't _like_ to share. So the next time another man asks you to sit with him, and flirts with you, walk the _fuck_ away, Trinket."

Effie had every intention of responding in kind—she wasn't _flirting_ , she was only being _nice_. As if she should ever look at another man other than him—but at that moment he slowly pulled out—purposely—as if to remind her she'd never find a better lover.

 _That_ was certainly true.

She bit her lip from moaning out in pleasure, and it took every ounce of will power in her being not to do so.

By the time her heartbeat returned to normal his pants were up and she was off the desk, attempting to straighten up her very ruined dress.

"Here," said Haymitch, handing her his sweater. She snatched it away and put it on. "Rude," he muttered.

"What's _rude_ is walking around here like I'm the only catch in this room," hissed Effie. "You don't get to stand there and chastise me for _talking_ to one man—the _only_ man who doesn't' look at me like scum besides you—when women _throw_ themselves at you every _single_ second."

Haymitch blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

"Don't look so surprised." She walked to his mirror and started fixing her hair. "Every girl except Katniss, Prim, and Mrs. Everdeen pines after you, Haymitch, and I finally got sick of it." Everybody wanted a piece of Haymitch. Mrs. Hawthorne. The cook. The woman who was the point of contact between District 8. "So maybe I waited until I knew you were coming to take that moment to talk to Aldar."

Haymitch gaped. "You were trying to make me jealous."

She spun around. "Yes I was, because sometimes it seems like I don't _exist_ to you in the day," Effie snapped. "And who knows what you're doing with Coin all those hours you're holed up with her?"

"Wait. _Coin_?"

" _Yes_ , Coin! She lusts after you more than any of them. Why do you think she hates me so much? But of course you're oblivious to her, and all of them, unless it's someone flirting with _me_ , and suddenly you remember I'm here."

"Effie I'm _working_ during the day. And maybe I don't pay a lot of attention to you, but I've already caused enough attention by demanding you have a room. People are starting to talk."

"Since when do you care about what people say?"

"Since it concerned you!" Haymitch's voice probably carried all the way to Capitol. "Damn it Effie." He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "I don't give a flying fuck what people say about me. I never have. But you're an _Escort_ to these people. They don't care about the one year you were in on the Rebellion. Not when you spent nineteen years picking names. They don't get it. They don't _wanna_ get it. I'm trying to protect you. They won't take too kindly to knowing you're sleeping with a Victor."

"You mean they won't take too kindly _you_ sleeping with his Escort." Her voice was cold, and Haymitch blinked at her.

"Princess, nobody would ever do anything to me. On top of that, no one would ever _say_ anything to me. _Maybe_ Coin might, because she's _technically_ my superior, but everyone else in 13 works for _me_. It's _you_ they'd take it out on. And I'm not gonna let that happen. We're fighting to start a war so that one day you and I could be acceptable. We haven't won that fight yet, okay? So just... don't worry about any other woman. None of them exist to me. And just… be patient."

Effie sighed. Even when he didn't make sense, he made sense. "Understood."

He smirked. "There's my girl." He walked up to her and pulled her to him, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "I'm sorry I was rough. I was quite pissed at you though, and thought I should… show you what you'd be missing if you ever left me for one of these weaklings in 13."

"You're always rough, Haymitch. Not quite like that, but… I certainly wasn't complaining."

He arched an eyebrow. "I'll see you tonight," he told her, his voice low. "Until then: put on a fucking bra and underwear, and don't let me see you talking to Aldar again, or so help me God his blood will be on your hands."

He gave her a kiss that her head spinning. When she finally came back around she was alone.

She smiled at the empty room. His logic was as flawed as he was, but damn it, she'd gotten his attention, and that's all she had wanted.

She got a little something extra as well.


	199. A String of I Love You's

_Consider this another take on how Haymitch might say ILY for the first time_.

 **A STRING OF I LOVE YOU'S**

 **Rated M**

Effie shivered violently, startling Haymitch awake.

"Ef? You okay?" he slurred, his voice thick with sleep.

"It's cold, Haymitch," moaned Effie.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. That didn't seem to satisfy her, though, so she turned around and faced him, burying her face in his bare chest. He shifted and he wrapped her arms around her, pulling her closer. When she shivered again he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Sighing dramatically he got out of bed, muttering all the while. "If you gained some weight maybe you wouldn't be so bloody cold." He stomped over to the fireplace and relit it, and then stomped back to the bed. "Happy?"

Effie smiled at him. "I'm sorry I'm freezing in 12," she said. "But I'm sure I can find a way to thank you… properly."

Haymitch stilled, arched an eyebrow, and after locking eyes with her, stripped off his pants and then jumped into bed. "Well start thanking, Princess." He put his hands behind his head.

Effie laughed and then slid on top of him. She kissed his lips, gently, and he kissed her back. He slid his hands down her body and started to take off his shirt that covered her body but she broke away.

"You've done enough work for the night," said Effie softly. "You just sick back and let me do all the work."

"I've waited _years_ to hear you say that," he joked.

"I bet it makes you miss the good ole days," hummed Effie.

"You mean when I wouldn't have cared that you were cold, and wouldn't have gotten out of bed?" He watched as she took his shirt off of her body and tossed it to the side.

She laughed and slid down on him, arranging herself under the cover, kissing his neck. His breath caught in his throat. "I think I owe you a million thank you's."

"You do. You absolutely do."

She kissed his lips again and lifted her hips. He maneuvered around and she slid into him, both of them holding their breath until she adjusted to him. They'd been doing this for years now, but it was still so thrilling, whenever he was inside of her.

They moved slowly together. Normally it was rough, and kinky, but every now and then they slowed it down.

"Thank you for lighting the fireplace," she whispered, looking at him, her hips rocking. "Thank you for rescuing me from the Capitol." He grunted, closing his eyes, his nails digging into her skin. "Thank you for being a Rebel." She planted her lips on his. "For making me see how horrible the Capitol was." He moaned her name and she buried her face in his neck. "Thank you for giving me two Tributes, who I love like my own. Thank you for letting me come here, and letting me make 12 my home." She dug her nails into his chest, gasping at the pleasure. "Thank you for staying sober." She kissed his neck, making her way up to his ear. "For putting the drink down and picking me up instead. Thank you for locking away your knife. Thank you for stopping my nightmares." With each thank you she sped up a little, her breath soft.

"Fuck, Effie," grunted Haymitch. He forced her mouth to his, and she came.

He engulfed her, her lips on his neck. "Thank you for _this_. For always pleasing me. For never being selfish." She gasped when he pushed her in deeper, and sped up a little. She lost her train of thought for a few moments as the pleasure overwhelmed her, and she found herself on the edge again.

Her orgasm made her shiver, and he wrapped his arms around her, his hands moving up and down her back. She stared at him, taking in his features, memorizing them. He felt her stare and locked eyes with her.

It gave her butterflies, whenever he looked at her like that.

"I love you, Haymitch," she told him, and he gripped her tighter. His breath quickened and he closed his eyes again. "Look at me." She reached up and locked her arms around his neck, her forehead resting on his. "I love everything about you." She kissed him again, and he pulled her closer. "I love your eyes," she panted. "I love you laugh, because you never laughed before. I love your hands and the things they do to my body." Like now, and the way his calloused fingers were gripping her breasts. "I love how you protect me."

"Effie," said Haymitch, and she stared at him.

"I love how good you feel whenever you're inside of me." Another orgasm was coming. She could feel it building. She moaned softly, speeding up. "I love how you would do anything for me, even when you don't want to."

"I would," he mumbled. " _God_ I would. Anything. Fucking anything."

"I love how you hold me when we go to sleep. I love everything about you."

He cupped her cheeks, his thumb caressing her. "Fuck," said Haymitch. He wasn't emotional, but damn it to hell if she wasn't undoing his very being.

"I love that too," she smiled. "I love knowing you're about to cum. How you always make me cum. " She sped up, knowing she was close. "I love that you gave me three babies." She bit her lip, her own eyes closing. "I just love you. God I love you." She kissed him, because she could feel the emotions seeping out of her. Haymitch pulled her deeper and she cried out. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you Effie," blurted out Haymitch.

She came, violently, which was strange, figuring how gentle they were being, but to hear those words from him made her ride out her orgasm like a woman possessed.

He'd never said it before.

Never, not in nearly thirty years.

She whimpered as he continued to pound into her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She cried out as Haymitch cursed, and when his mouth sought hers she was eager for him. He kept pounding, until another orgasm broke through.

Haymitch cursed out, loudly, into the night, and erupted, and she whimpered. He pulled out and forced her lips to his again, his kisses hard.

"I love you," he repeated. "Fuck. Shit. _Shit_."

"It's okay," whispered Effie. He flipped them over and buried his face in her neck, his breathing hard. "I love you too."

He moaned and looked at her, his hands in her hair. He was vulnerable, she realized, so she kissed him again.

"No one ever has to know," she told him softly. He pulled her to him, still kissing her face, neck, lips, ears. "If you keep that up we'll get no sleep tonight."

"I don't deserve you," said Haymitch, his lips on her neck.

"No?"

He slid into her again, already rock hard, before answering with a definite, "No. You're perfect. Fucking perfect."

He was done being gentle, she realized, and she gritted her teeth at the force of his strokes. She gripped him, tightly, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. She started meeting his strokes.

"I'm sorry I can't say it more often," he stuttered out.

She arched her back. "Darling your body says it enough."

She clung on, accepting his way of loving her.

 _I wrote this FOREVER ago and figuring it's Valentine's Day I thought I'd post it. I hope you enjoy, I still debate on if it's canon or not. I just don't think he'd ever say it. Also, the reason this says "another take on how Haymitch says ILY" is because I have another one-shot I wrote where it's angst that I would have posted first, but I just had to post a fluff piece for Vday._

 _Hope you enjoyed._


	200. My Heart Will Go On

_I mentioned awhile back that I wanted to do a Hayffie Titanic but inspiration never really struck—until I saw that hug Leo and Kate Winslet shared at the SAG Awards. I've ALWAYS shipped them and SO wish they'd been together in real life, but yah… not all dreams come true. ANYWAY LITERALLY I got off my flight from Orlando and googled the SAG Awards and Kate and Leo were the talk of the town. I saw a picture of them and inspiration struck!_

 _This is my 200_ _th_ _POST! OMG can ya'll BELIEVE it?! I hardly can. Thank you all so much for all the support. I hope to do another two hundred more. Three hundred, even. For now, enoy this!_

 **MY HEART WILL GO ON**

 **Rated M**

He'd never been much of a gambling man, he didn't like leaving things to chance, but the liquor was low and there was a bottle being betted, so he took his last few little dollars and said he wanted in.

He ended up getting a lot more than liquor.

His best friend Chaff got drunk, lost most of his money, and also bet his ticket to get on the _Titanic_. He wasn't the only one betting that ticket at the end of the day, and Haymitch left with two tickets in his hand.

It was almost better than the liquor he scored.

Chaff had looked so pitiful that Haymitch gave his best friend his ticket to the _Titanic_ back. He blamed the said liquor when he actually showed up on boarding day, a poor boy of seventeen, with nothing more than a backpack full of shirts and one extra pair of jeans. He gave Chaff his ticket back and the two of them boarded and made their way to their compartments.

He had no idea how much his life would change.

* * *

The first time he saw her he was drinking, and she ran past him, nothing but a colorful blur. His first instinct told him that something was wrong, but then he realized it wasn't his place. He had his own problems and had no business getting himself involve in anyone else's issues.

He had finished his bottle and was walking back to his room when he saw her again.

She was hanging over the edge of the boat.

His heart lodged in his throat at the sight of her, and he immediately headed towards her. He could see her struggle, whether to hold on because she had changed her mind, or if she was trying to convince herself to let go. Whatever it was he couldn't sit by and do nothing—and he didn't know why.

It seemed like time itself seemed to slow down. He could see everything: the red wine color of her dress, her reddish, blonde hair in millions of curls, her dark red nails in stark contrast to the whiteness of her fingers.

The fingers that were slipping.

"Don't do it," he called, and in retrospect that was pretty stupid, because he scared her, nearly causing her to fall.

She turned to him. "Go away," stated the girl, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"What are you doin'?"

It was a stupid question, and she knew it from the look she shot him, but he was stalling. He was checking his surroundings, waiting for someone else to maybe come and help him out. It was late at night, though, most people were asleep, the only reason he was even up was because nightmares tended to plague him.

"Can you please just go away?"

He looked at her. "What's your name?"

"Does it matter?"

"I asked, didn't I? Why don't you climb back over and tell me your name?"

"Please just leave me alone."

"No can do. I'm involved now." He was going to regret this, but hopefully this wasn't about to be as bad as he thought. He started unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his shoes.

"What do you thin you are doing?"

"Well if you're gonna jump, I gotta go in after you. Like I said, I'm involved now, and if you jump and I don't do nothin', then I'm an accessory." He had no idea if that was true of not, but it sounded right.

"You are being quite ridiculous. No one was supposed to be down here at this time of night."

"Well I am," shrugged Haymitch. "Why don't you stop all this and come back over? We can talk about why a pretty rich girl like yourself is this unhappy."

"That is none of your business."

"You just made it my business. "If you jump, I jump."

"I did not. _You_ are bothering _me_."

"And you're just bein' spoiled," Haymitch snapped out. "What, did Daddy not increase your allowance?"

He had hoped it'd lighten the mood but he was wrong. She choked out a sob. "You know _nothing_ of my life."

He almost didn't make it in time, but when her fingers purposely let go of the railing he was able to grab part of her dress. It ripped but it was enough to get him to grab her hand. The gasp she let out, the widening of her eyes as her blue eyes met his grey ones, and the way she clung to his hands showed him both the fear and the pain living in her.

"Let me go," she said, but she was speaking from pain, not desire.

"Can't do that, Princess," stated Haymitch, already lifting her up.

For someone who had just claimed for him to let her go she certainly clung on tightly. She did not fight with him, though she was sobbing. He pulled her up with his strength alone, because she certainly wasn't helping.

He pulled her over the railing and she clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably and locking her arms around his neck with so much force he fell back.

He didn't do comfort well, especially from spoiled rich girls who had had the entire world handed to her, but there was something about the way she was crying that made him realize how human she was.

She was making quite a scene, he realized, and was crying quite loudly and he realized that it might draw unwanted attention a few seconds too late. A guard approached them, and he instantly saw how it looked: he was currently holding a girl whose dress was partially ripped, his shirt was unbuttoned and his shoes were off, and said girl was currently crying her eyes out.

"You!" the guard yelled. "What is going on here? Ms. Trinket, are you all right?" Without waiting for her to respond he had grabbed Haymitch by his arm and was lifting him up. Haymitch's temper immediately flared, but the girl intervened.

"Let him go," she stated quite crossly. "He has done nothing wrong."

"Isn't he bothering you?"

"No," stated the girl coldly. The guard took in her red, puffy eyes, her ripped dress, and his unbuttoned shirt and lack of shoes and looked skeptical. She straightened her shoulders. "I _said_ let him go."

The guard reluctantly did as he was told, and then a few more men came around the corner.

"Effie!" exclaimed a man with an intricate beard, and then he was by her side in an instant. "What happened? What is it? Is this man bothering you?"

" _No_. Why is that everyone's assumption? This man saved me tonight." They all just stared at her. "I was… looking over the rail and nearly slipped, and this gentleman pulled me back up. He is a hero and thus should be treated as such."

They all turned to him, but he only had eyes for her. Her blue orbs pleaded with him to go along with the story.

"Well, boy, is that what happened?" asked the guard.

Haymitch kept his eyes on her – Effie Trinket, they said – for a few more moments, before nodding his head in agreement. "Yah, that's what happened."

There was more silence for a little while, until the man with the funny beard spoke again. "Are you sure that's what happened darling?"

"Yes I am quite positive. You should thank him for saving my life."

The man with the funny beard turned to him. "Seneca Crane," he stated formally, holding out his hand.

"Haymitch Abernathy," responded Haymitch, shaking the man's head. "It's wonderful that you were at the right place at the right time. Allow me to compensate you." He started reaching in his pocket.

"No, it's okay. I was just doin' what any decent person would do."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Abernathy," Effie stated at once, walking up to him. At some point someone had given her a jacket – it wasn't Seneca, he noted.

"You can't put a price on a person's life," said Haymitch somewhat coldly.

"That is certainly true," Seneca agreed.

"It is, yes, but I am worth more than nothing."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow and Seneca slowly stared at Effie. "Effie is unpleased," he stated.

"I insist you invite him to dinner tomorrow night."

"Darling, tomorrow is the dinner with—"

"I very well know who will be at tomorrow's dinner." Haymitch had to give Effie credit. There was a finality to her statement that had him holding in a smirk. She was feisty, this one.

Seneca continued to stare at Effie. "Okay, Darling, if that is what you want. I will take care of Mr. Abernathy. Why don't you let security escort you back to your room?"

Haymitch could tell she didn't like being dismissed, but the request was too polite to refuse. "Goodnight Mr. Abernathy, and I expect to see you at dinner tomorrow night."

She and the guard left and Haymitch was left alone with Seneca. "Thank you for helping Effie out today. Though she certainly is priceless, I am sure together we can come up with an amount for her. What'll it be?" He opened up his wallet and pulled out several large bills. "This should be enough to make you look halfway presentable at dinner tomorrow night." He handed the bills to Haymitch. "Actually, here's a few more to look as presentable as possible. You could use the extra help."

Haymitch snarled at the man and was about to speak when the man interrupted.

"Don't be difficult. Just take the money and be thankful that you're not being arrested. I don't know why my fiancé is protecting you, but I don't buy the fact that she 'slipped.'" He eyed Haymitch. "Just be a good lad, take the money, and you better show up to dinner completely sober or I'll make sure that nobody on this ship serves you alcohol again, are we clear?"

Suddenly Haymitch knew why Effie was about to jump off the ledge. If he was engaged to this man he'd want to kill himself too.

"Yah," Haymitch finally stated.

"Good. See you at dinner. Oh, and feel free to use my name as a reference. When you walk into the shop they are going to undoubtedly assume you've stolen that money. Do try and pick out a quality suit. I'm sure it'll be the only one you own for quite some time."

And with that, Seneca, along with his friends, were gone.

* * *

When Seneca knocked on her bedroom door early the next morning, he came bearing a gift. The heart of the ocean, it was called, and it was quite a looker. It was a beautiful necklace, enough to feed an entire third world country for life.

"I know you are bothered by the idea of an arranged marriage," Seneca told her. "For some reason you are your own woman, and you are independent. I can look passed that. I can give you anything you want, Euphemia. All you have to do is _let_ me. Open your heart to me, Darling."

Effie eyed the necklace, fingering it.

He left without ever getting an answer.

* * *

When Haymitch woke up the next morning he thought it was a dream, up until Effie found him. He was sitting next to Chaff and Rose, a young girl who'd clearly taken a fancy to him. He was quite embarrassed but Rose's parents found it adorable, and she was really cute, so he didn't tell her to scram.

Haymitch was being taught a hand game by Rose when the cabin got unusually quiet, and it still took for Chaff to elbow him for him to look up.

She definitely looked out of place down here in her fancy dress, but she was still the most stunning individual Haymitch had ever seen. She approached him and he wondered if he'd even have the ability to _speak_.

"May I talk to you?" she asked, quite nervously.

Haymitch looked at Chaff, who looked at him like he'd be a complete idiot if he didn't go with her, so Haymitch cleared his throat and stood up, his sketchbook in his hand.

"Sure, okay," he said, and he motioned for her to lead the way. He glanced back at Chaff who winked at him, and Haymitch smirked.

They made their way up to the deck, making small talk long enough to have walked around several times. After a while Haymitch finally decided that enough was enough.

"We've nearly walked a mile, Princess, with mostly me talking. Why don't you say what it is you gotta say?"

She seemed somewhat taken aback by how abrupt he was being, but she cleared her throat nonetheless. "I just wanted to thank you for saving my life last night, and your discretion. I cannot imagine what you must think of me. 'Poor little rich girl, what could she possibly know of misery?'"

"I was thinkin' that, at first, but… something's wrong, and I can see that." She looked at him. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

She looked like she might refuse at first, her body was actually stiff with the attempt to remain silent, and then she suddenly let out a breath. "Oh, it is everything, my whole life and everyone in it. I am the product of an arranged marriage, you see. My family is broke, and for some reason they think Seneca Crane is the perfect answer." She showed him the large ring on her finger and Haymitch gaped.

"You'da gone straight to the bottom," he told her.

"They are all counting on me but no one knows how it feels…. I am screaming for help and no one seems to hear a thing, or if they do, they pretend not to hear…. Wedding invitations have already gone out, everyone keeps _congratulating me_ …. But I am _tired_."

Haymitch paused for a moment, staring at the woman before him. "Do you love him?"

Effie stiffened dramatically. "What?"

"Do you love him?"

She scoffed. "That's rude. You shouldn't be asking me this."

Haymitch smirked. "I kinda think it's a simple enough question. Either you do or you don't."

"This is not a proper conversation," Effie told him.

"Why can't you jus' answer the question?"

Effie put her hand on her hip. "This is ridiculous. You do not know me, I certainly do not know you, and we are not going to have this conversation." She grabbed his hand and started shaking it. "I came to you to thank you, and I have done that—"

"You've also insulted me," stated Haymitch.

"But you deserved it."

"Isn't _that_ rude?" Haymitch snarled. She was clearly flustered and was still shaking his hand. "I thought you were leaving."

She slit her eyes at him, dropping his hand. " _I_ do not have to do anything. You are in _my_ part of the boat. _You_ leave."

"You really are rude, you know that?"

She looked highly offended at first before she snatched his drawing book away from him. "What is this thing, anyway?" She started flipping through the pages, looking from him to the book. "What are you some sort of artist or something?"

Haymitch shrugged. "Something like that."

"These are good." She seemed impressed at all the drawings of different buildings. She saw several famous places, places even she hadn't been yet. The last page was of _Titanic_ , though it was still unfinished. "These are really good."

"Thanks," he shrugged again.

She sat down and he leaned against the wall. "Why do you draw blueprints?"

"Gotta know the ins and out a place. It's safer that way."

She thought it was such a strange answer that she didn't respond. She handed him his book back, blushing under the intensity of his gaze.

She'd never met such a strange man before. He was rude, uncouth, and clearly had no sense of fashion. But there was something about him that drew her to him.

She was still trying to figure it out when she heard a familiar sound of a woman softly clearing her throat. Effie froze and turned around to find herself staring at Cleara Trinket and her aunt, Elana Bates,

"Euphemia?"

Effie stiffened slightly. "Mother."

"Care to introduce us to your… friend?" The way she said friend implied that she was showing great restraint for saying what she really wanted to say. She clearly didn't approve of Haymitch, regardless of the fact that he was supposed to have saved her life.

"Mother, this is Haymitch Abernathy," Effie stated. "Mr. Abernathy, this is my mother, Mrs. Cleara Trinket, and her sister, Ms. Elana Banks."

Haymitch forced a smile until Effie elbowed him, and after shooting her a glare, bowed down to the two women. Cleara didn't smile once, though Elana did. It was obvious Cleara knew Haymitch was was beneath them, and would not hide it.

"Come along, Euphemia," was all Cleara stated, and Effie didn't think about disobeying. She gave Haymitch a soft smile and then sauntered off.

Elana stared at Haymitch staring back at Effie. She was quite a looker, he realized, and had a certain _walk_ for sure.

"Son," said Elana. Haymitch kept staring at Effie. "Son," she said a little louder, standing in front of his line of sight. Haymitch stared at her. Elana hardly resembled her sister. Where Cleara was blonde, tall, skinny – she probably considered herself elegant – Elana was short, a little heavier, with thousands of dark red curls atop her head. "Son, do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"

Haymitch just looked at her.

"Didn't think so." She looked him over. "What are you wearing to dinner?"

"I was gonna pick somethin' up."

Elana brushed that away. "Save your money. Besides, I can't say I trust you to do it properly. Come with me, I'll see what I can do for you. I have a son around you weight." Haymitch followed the woman.

* * *

Elana had her arm intertwined in Haymitch's. "Relax. If you look like you come from money, you will be accepted." They walked down the stairs, Haymitch not the least bit self-conscious. He was dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a black bowtie. His hair was slicked back – which he thought made him look quite ridiculous – but he had to admit, it'd been a while since he'd been this dressed up.

She patted his back once they'd reached the bottom of the stairs and then left him alone. Not a few seconds later he saw Seneca Crane coming down the stairs, talking with the same guard from last night.

Haymitch stood up a little straighter and held out his hand, but Seneca and his bodyguard, who he learned later on was named Henri, walked right passed him. Haymitch stood there, his hand still outstretched, trying to figure out how a woman who cared so much about manners was engaged to that idiot.

Suddenly he could feel someone staring at him. He turned and found Effie smiling at him, dressed stunningly in a navy blue dress. He felt his breath catch but he played it off, smiling smugly and holding out his arm for her.

"Well I must say, you clean up quite nicely," Effie said with a smile.

He didn't respond. Instead he gently grabbed her hand, bowed, and placed his lips on her gloved hand.

"Darling," Effie called, turning to get Seneca's attention. "You remember Mr. Abernathy."

Seneca blinked. "Mr. Abernathy. Wow. You could almost pass for a gentleman."

Haymitch smirked. "Almost, but not quite." Seneca arched an eyebrow and then turned towards Cleara Trinket, who had just come down the stairs. He held out his arm and Cleara took it, never once acknowledging Haymitch.

Effie grabbed Haymitch's hand and started pointing out people. "You see that man with the white beard? That is Captain Snow. Oh and the heavyset gentleman? That is Plutarch Heavensbee, standing next to his nineteen-year-old mistress, Coral. His wife is at home taking care of the children. Oh, and that woman who's dressed highly inappropriately is Johanna Mason, wife of Henri, who is, of course, Seneca's security detail. She designs lingerie, it is quite the scandal, especially since half the women on this ship buy from her." Haymitch snorted and Effie pointed to another gentleman. This one actually acknowledged him like a human being. "Ceasar Flickerman, this is Haymitch Abernathy. He saved my life. Haymitch, this is Mr. Flickerman. He built this boat."

Haymitch shook his hand, and the next thing he knew, they were all seated around the table, Effie seated across from him.

It was going to be a long night, particularly with Effie's mother trying her hardest to make Haymitch feel unwelcome.

"So tell me… where are your parents? I cannot imagine that they are particularly… proud of your occupation?"

Haymitch stilled suddenly. "I don't have any parents. My dad took off when I was a child—" Cleara didn't seem at all surprised by that—"And my mother and brother were killed in an accident when I was sixteen. Been on my own ever since."

Effie stared at him, quite shocked. He hadn't told her that. He kept his eyes on her mother though, who had the nerve to look only slightly ashamed.

Yet for someone untrained in propriety, he had a charming response for everything, one upping Cleara without ever being rude.

Effie found herself quite pleased.

At the end of it all, when Seneca and the rest of the men left to go to the cigar bar, Haymitch also got up to leave.

"Can't you stay?" asked Effie.

He sent her a smirk – it did funny things to her stomach – and grabbed her hand. "I'm afraid I must get going. It's been a pleasure." He kissed her hand and then left, turning back to look at her once more.

She waited until he was gone before reading the little slip of paper he had put in her hand.

* * *

He could be quite charming when he wanted to be, and Effie found herself doing things she never thought she would, like sneaking down into third class and dancing barefoot and drinking beer.

They danced differently than she was used to. The bumping and grinding wasn't difficult to master, but it was certainly dissimilar than the slow waltz she was used to.

She couldn't say she minded the change.

She never thought something could feel so good, and she felt like her body was on fire as she pressed her hips into his and allowed him to rub his hands over her body.

He made her feel like a _woman_.

The feeling was slightly foreign.

She was having such a good time that she never noticed Henri slipping down into third class.

* * *

Even with a slight hangover Effie was still able to make breakfast with Seneca. She didn't _want_ to go, but Mother had insisted, and one didn't argue with Cleara Trinket.

Needless to say, breakfast started rather quietly.

It wasn't that she didn't _like_ Seneca. Perhaps in a world where she'd had _chosen_ to marry him, she could have. But being forced to love someone had never been her cup of tea. She had always wanted better for herself, her parents had never loved each other, which was made obvious because her father was hardly ever home.

"I was hoping you'd have come to me last night," Seneca said.

Effie stiffened slightly. She refrained from stating that _that_ was awfully presumptuous of him. They'd been engaged for six months and she still hadn't touched him like _that_. She couldn't see herself losing her virginity to this man, even though it was inevitable. _If_ she had to, she wanted to do so on her terms.

"I was tired," she told him instead.

"Probably because you were up all night in third class," said Seneca quite coldly.

"Typical to have Henri follow me." Effie tried to keep her voice level as she gingerly put down her cup of morning tea. She was partial to lemon with sugar but Mother insisted on this bland green tea because Seneca preferred it.

"You will never see that boy again, Effie, are we clear?" Seneca had leaned forward, his eyes flashing.

Effie glared back. "I am _not_ one of your servants, I am your fiancé—"

"Yes you _are_ ," snapped Seneca, standing up and flipping over the table and getting in her face. "You are my fiancé, my future wife, and you will honor me as so." Effie froze, suddenly terrified. "Now you will not see him again, am I clear?" Effie nodded, her eyes welling with tears. "Good. Because I will not be made a fool of." With that Seneca was gone.

One of Effie's maid's came in right then, rushing to pick up the mess.

"Oh! Let me help you," Effie said, shaking. "We had an accident, he—"

"It's okay, Miss," said the girl.

"I'll just help you." Her hands shaking she started picking up the broken plates. "He just… I mean we—"

The maid gently grabbed her hand. "It's okay, Miss."

Effie stared into the girl's eyes, nodding slowly. Without another word Effie got up, keeping the tears at bay until she was down the hall.

When she met up with her mother a little later on Cleara was quite persistent in her desire to make sure Effie understood that she was forbidden to ever see Haymitch again. The fact that Seneca had ran and tattled like a two-year-old greatly irritated Effie.

"You are being terribly selfish," Cleara told her daughter as she pulled the strings to Effie's corset.. "You know your father left us with nothing but debt, you should be happy to try and save your family. You should be _honored_ , really." Effie remained silent and the two women stared at each other in the mirror. "Do you want to see me become a seamstress? Do you want to see all of our things sold at an auction to the highest bidder? Do you want to see our wigs and pretty dresses and heels and jewelry wind up in second-hand shops?"

Effie shook her head. "That is so unfair," whispered Effie, turning around to face her mother. "It is not right to put that kind of pressure on me."

"You are no a _child_ anymore, Euphemia. You have an opportunity to save our family. That is your birthright. I would think you would be happy; you always wanted fame and fortune, and with Seneca you will get both." Effie was about to retort when her mother stepped closer to her. "You have always been good at following directions, Euphemia. I will not be debating this with you. You _will_ marry, Seneca, you _will_ be happy about it, and you will _not_ be seen with that boy again, are we clear?"

Effie stared at her mother for a few moments. "Yes, ma'am."

Cleara nodded. "Good. Now turn around."

Effie did as she was told.

* * *

She could not say she was all that surprised when Haymitch cornered her a few days later. Aunt Elana had already told her that Haymitch had tried to go to church the other day and Henri had blocked him.

She was walking the deck with Seneca, Henri, and her mother and aunt when a stranger in a hat pulled her inside a room. She would have been terrified out of her mind if she hadn't recognized his scent.

"Haymitch," she breathed.

"Why are you avoiding me?" asked Haymitch without preamble.

Effie opened her mouth and then closed it. With a sigh her eyes fluttered closed. There was no easy way to say this, she supposed. "Mr. Abernathy—"

"Oh, is it Mr. Abernathy now?" Haymitch snarled.

Effie faltered. He was _angry_ , she realized. "Mr. Abernathy… I am engaged. I will marry Seneca, and that is that. I thank you for saving my life, but that is it. You had dinner with us, you were properly compensated. We have nothing else to discuss."

"That is _bullshit_ , Effie. I _know_ you. You don't even really _like_ Seneca, let alone love him."

"That is not true." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she saw his eyes widen. She cleared her throat. "I do love him, and I will marry him."

"You were ready to drown at the bottom of the ocean a few days ago," he told her coldly. "You're not happy. You may _think_ you are, but you're not. If you marry that man you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life. You will _never_ be happy with him."

Effie blinked rapidly. "It is not your duty to try and save me," said Effie quietly. "Now I have to go. Please do not contact me again."

When she met up with her family she told them all that she did not feel good. She went off to her room where she cried herself to sleep.

It wasn't until she was having tea later on that day with her mother and a couple of other ladies, where they were discussing wedding details, that Effie began to feel overwhelmed.

She saw a mother chastising her daughter for sitting back—"Women sit _up_ ," the mother scolded, and she pushed her young child up, making sure her back was straight. It was something she herself had learned around that age. Women were this, women were that, this is how you act in public, this is how you speak…. So many damned _rules_ , all the damn time.

She excused herself and went to throw up.

* * *

She found Chaff down in third class. The entire room got silent, just like the last time, though where they were in awe of her then, now they looked at her with disdain.

She supposed Haymitch had told them all.

Still, she was Effie Trinket, so it was chin up, shoulders back, smile on. She locked eyes with Chaff, who looked at her with a scowl and folded arms.

"Where is he?" asked Effie.

"Who's askin?" Chaff responded.

"I am."

Chaff shook his head. "Go on back to first class, Effie. You're not goin' anywhere near my best friend again."

"I need to see him, Chaff."

Chaff shrugged. "Tough shit." Effie grabbed the engagement ring and tossed it to Chaff. He looked at it for several moments and then tossed it back. "There is no amount you could pay me to make me sell out my best mate."

"I know where he is," a woman stated. "I'm Seeder. Don't mind Chaff. He's just fiercely protective of Haymitch. We all are. But I'm a little bit older than Chaff, and a lot wiser. I'll tell you where he is."

Effie sighed her relief.

* * *

"Hello, Haymitch."

Haymitch froze, and then slowly turned around. She was there, in the flesh, only a few feet in front of him. They stared at each other for what could have been forever. He wasn't exactly sure. Time literally stopped.

"They said I could find you here," she blurted out, walking towards him as he climbed down from the railing. "I changed my mind." Haymitch slowly exhaled. "I am so sorry. I am an idiot, I admit it, and I understand completely if you hate me but—"

"Sh." He placed his index finger on her lips. "C'mere." He held out his hand and she took it. "Close your eyes." She seemed surprised. "Close your eyes," he repeated, and she did as she was told. He guided her to the edge, telling her to climb up. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she told him honestly.

"Good. I want you to let go of the railing." She could feel him climbing up behind her, and she slowly let go. She allowed him to spread her arms, and then his arms were on her waist. She could feel her hair blowing in the wind. "Now open your eyes."

Effie gasped at the sight before her. She was flying. _They_ were flying. She was literally flying. She choked out a laugh of disbelief.

She was _free_. For the first time, she felt free.

Haymitch intertwined his arms with hers, locking their fingers, and they stared out into the ocean as the sunset. It was not only magical and surreal, it was perfect.

When his arms slid back around her waist he rested his chin on her shoulder. She turned to look at him and his grey eyes were soft in the sunlight.

He leaned forward and she met him halfway. When their lips connected she thought she might have died and gone on to heaven. His lips were soft, but there was a hint of… possessiveness, of rawness that made her stomach pull. She wrapped one arm around his neck to pull him in closer and he tightened his hold on her around her waist.

In that moment, they both thought they would never let the other go.

* * *

Haymitch whistled when he saw the necklace. She was a beauty.

"I know you draw buildings," Effie told him. "But do you think you can draw me wearing this?"

Haymitch shrugged casually. "I'm sure I could."

She caressed his face. "I mean wearing… _only_ this."

He stared at her for several moments. Swallowing thickly, he nodded.

He set the scene while she went to undress. He pulled the couch over to the most lit part of the room, moving the pillows and placing them accordingly. He was sharpening his tools when she came out of the bathroom, her hair down, most of her makeup off, dressed in a see-through black robe.

He didn't think it were possible for her to look anymore beautiful.

And then she disrobed.

He kept his mind in artist form to keep himself from acting like a hormonal teenager. He was but eighteen, and she was beautiful, but he concentrated on her being a work of art.

It wasn't that hard.

After telling her where to place her arms, he started drawing her. For the most part he kept silent, unless she was asking him a question. She commented on him blushing, which made him blush even more.

He was Haymitch Abernathy. He didn't fucking _blush_.

As tempting as it would have been to sleep with her then, he simply just signed the art and handed it to her, a small smile on his face.

Right after Effie had changed again, the front door opened. They heard Henri call for Effie. Placing her hand on her lips to keep him quiet – as if he needed telling – she grabbed his hand and they made their way towards the back.

In retrospect she closed the door too hard, and a few seconds later Henri was chasing them down the hall. They ran, Effie screaming and Haymitch laughing, until they rushed on an elevator in just enough time.

Effie flicked Henri off at the last minute, and Haymitch found himself staring at her in awe.

It was official.

He was in love with her.

* * *

They spent a few hours ducking and dodging Henri, even sneaking down to the boiler room. They had to run from a few of the workers and ended up sneaking into a storage room that housed a classic car of all things.

Haymitch whistled and nearly started drooling, only Effie daintily cleared her throat, motioning towards the door. With an eye roll Haymitch opened her door and helped her climb in and then took his place in the driver's seat.

This thing was a _beauty_.

Much like the woman in the backseat who waited all of ten seconds before pulling him in the backseat with her. Her lips were on his and there was something different about this kiss than anyone she'd ever experienced.

He was on top of her, his eyes the darkest shade of grey she'd seen yet. He gently caressed her cheek with his thumb and then bent down and kissed her softly.

She didn't want soft, though, apparently. She shoved her tongue into her mouth and he heard himself moan. Her teeth scraped his bottom lip and he growled. His hands worked on their own accord and started feeling out the very places he had drawn not so long ago.

"Effie, are you sure?" mumbled Haymitch as she reached for his zipper. She was a virgin, it was obvious she was, even if she had stripped for him.

"Yes," she whispered. "God yes."

He wouldn't ask her again, so he started kissing her neck, her breath hitching. Her fingers worked his shirt, unbuttoning it, and then she went for his pants again.

It wasn't easy maneuvering inside of a car, and how he got his pants leg off was beyond him. Effie pulled her dress up – there were a few bangs but eventually they got it together, and then he was setting himself to slip into her.

He thought maybe he was on his way to heaven as he slowly moved in and out of her. She was perfect, absolutely perfect, and he wasn't sure how he'd ever survived without her. He'd been _existing_ all this time, but she made him live. It'd been _years_ since he'd _lived_.

She dug her nails into his back and he buried his face in her neck, inhaling sharply as the pleasure shot through him. Her hips responded to his and she started making noises, noises that would sure throw him over the edge if she wasn't careful.

He sped up a little and she moaned, arching her back and calling his name. She slid her leg around his waist and he cursed, panting. She was on a mission to kill him, he realized, and if he was going to go, he was happy to be going like this, with her.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, Effie's hair was sticking to her face and his was sticking to his forehead, yet she'd never looked better. She let out a startled cry and palmed the foggy windows, leaving a handprint against the glass.

When he realized she had just came he quickly followed, the two of them staring at each other as they came down from their high.

He kissed her one more time, he felt the urgent need to do so, and he'd have given anything to stay there, in that moment, forever, but they couldn't.

They had people after them.

They barely made it out of the storage room before Henri and Seneca came looking for them.

* * *

Effie felt overwhelmed. Everything was a blur, one big blur. One minute she was making love to Haymitch, the next minute the ship was hitting an iceberg, and Seneca had had Haymitch arrested for stealing the necklace. Ceasar had confided in her that the boat would sink in an hour, and suddenly she was being shoved onto a boat, her mother commenting on the fact that she hoped she had enough _room_.

" _Shut up_ ," Effie finally snapped. "This ship is sinking and there are only half the amount of boats as there are people. And you're worried about being _comfortable_? People are going to _die_."

Seneca smiled slyly. "Not the rich ones." Effie jerked violently. "It's too bad you didn't keep your drawing. It'll be worth ten times as much tomorrow."

It was those words that had her overwhelmed. Suddenly she knew Haymitch hadn't stolen the necklace, that Seneca had framed him. She slowly backed away from the people around her. She could see the devastation in her aunt's eyes, the shock in her mother's, and the disbelief in Seneca's.

She turned away from them, ignoring them all as they called her name, telling her to get on the boat, intent on finding Haymitch, when Seneca grabbed her. They wrestled for a few minutes, her mother and aunt calling her name, but she ignored them. Finally mustering all of her strength Effie pushed Seneca away and started running.

She ran into Henri, who was looking so harassed that he barely noticed her. After grabbing a hold of him she demanded that he tell her where Haymitch was. He looked like he was going to refuse for a moment, but after a few seconds, he attempted to explain it to her. It was confusing, there were a lot of twists and turns she'd have to make, but at least she had a general idea.

Without so much as a thank you, she made her way back down to third class.

* * *

She followed the sound of his voice, making her way down the hall, the water getting colder with every step she took. She'd called him loud enough to get him to respond when she was unsure of which way to go.

The hallways were _confusing_.

She nearly wept with relief when she finally found him, handcuffed to a pipe. She apologized for everything, all the while crying.

"Seneca put the necklace in my pocket, I swear, Princess," Haymitch told her, even as he kissed her.

"I know," nodded Effie. "I know. Haymitch, the water is rising rapidly."

"Yah, we need to find the key." He jerked his head to a cabinet full of keys. "We need to find a silver one."

Silver? With her hands shaking she swept the dozens of keys. She didn't see anything silver. "These are all brass."

Haymitch swore. "Okay, check the desk." Effie headed towards the desk, grabbing the drawer and searching for a key.

Nothing. There was nothing.

"I am going to have to find help." He nodded. He'd already come to that conclusion, she supposed. She walked up to him and kissed him, hard. "I'll be back, okay? I promise. I promise." She kissed him again and left him, screaming for help. She saw one man but he didn't speak English. She saw another man and he insisted on bringing her farther and farther away from Haymitch, he wouldn't _listen_ to her when she said there was a man who needed help, and in the end she punched him in his nose, making him bleed.

He cursed at her and then stomped away, telling her she was on her own. She didn't even care. She saw an axe. Grabbing it she headed back to Haymitch. By this time the water was at her chest. She took of her coat and started swimming back towards Haymitch.

She imagined she looked quite insane with an axe in her hand, but he trusted her. He told her to do a few practice shots, and she slammed the axe into a piece of wood. He encouraged her to try and hit the same spot – she failed, epically, but he still allowed her to try and chop off his handcuffs. After giving her some tips on how to hold the axe, she swung down.

The handcuffs gave away, and after embracing, they hastily made their exit.

The way out was completely flooded, so Haymitch led her to a different route, where they ran into Chaff. The two men embraced and then Chaff exclaimed that no one from third class was allowed upstairs, not even the women and children.

Haymitch had a dark scowl on his face, and grabbing Effie, declared they'd find another way out.

Effie had no doubt that he'd create one if he didn't find it.

When they found another staircase with two guards guarding the exit, Haymitch motioned for Chaff to help him pull up a bench that was boarded down to the floor. Effie, seeing what they were doing, started moving the other people out of the way. The guard tried to stop them but they didn't listen. Chaff and Haymitch crashed through the door.

Together they made their way out, and waited for a boat.

* * *

Effie couldn't decide if she was surprised or not when Seneca showed up just as she was debating whether or not she would get on without Haymitch. They had made it quite clear all night that only women and women with children could get on the boats, and Effie was quite positive she could find several women willing to take her spot. She was _not_ leaving Haymitch, and she was just about to say so when Seneca showed up, covering her up with his jacket and declaring he had a spot reserved on a boat for him and Haymitch if she got on this one.

It didn't _feel_ right, nothing about it felt _right_ , but she got on at Haymitch's insistence. Ignoring Seneca all together she kept her eyes on Haymitch, shivering in the cold as the boat was lowered.

It wasn't until his face disappeared, when she was reaching the second floor, that she saw her opening. Like a mad woman she jumped from the boat into one of the open slots. She could hear Haymitch and barely registered the startled shouts from the other passengers as they helped her up, or the cries of disbelief from the people on the boat.

Effie made her way to through the crowd, everyone a blur, as she made her way back to Haymitch. She figured she probably looked insane, but it didn't matter. She ran through people, into people, around people. Eventually she ran into Haymitch.

"You're so stupid, Effie," Haymitch exclaimed, grabbing her face and kissing her. She choked out a sob, grabbing his face in return. "You're so stupid. Why did you do that, Effie?" He was hardly giving her anytime to answer.

"You jump, I jump, right?"

He stared at her in slight wonderment. "Right," he told her softly. He kissed her again, hugging her. She wouldn't die, he vowed during that kiss. He wouldn't let her die.

They had just broken apart when Seneca appeared out of nowhere with a gun. Haymitch tugged at Effie and she screamed as the first shot rang out. They continued to run as Seneca chased them, firing shots. They headed downstairs where they were met with water. Seneca fired into the water, Effie screaming again, but they continued to delve deeper.

They ran for several minutes before realizing Seneca was no longer chasing them.

They ran into a child crying, clearly terrified. Haymitch looked at her and she nodded, and together they made their way towards the child, picking him up and running away. Not a few seconds late a man comes along, shouting at them, and snatched the child away. The water was starting to come in even faster, and the father and son were going the wrong way. Haymitch and Effie tried to warn him, they _did_ , but it was too late – he opened a door and the water came crashing.

It didn't take long for the water to take them under. Eventually they swam their way to a stairwell with locked gates. At that moment an employee ran passed them. They shouted for him to help them, and after briefly hesitating, the man produced his keys and tried to unlock the door, but dropped the keys in the process. After apologizing he left them.

Haymitch went under and grabbed the keys, coming back up and asking Effie which key would get them out. She found it and he attempted to unlock the door, the water steadily rising. Finally, at the last possible second, he unlocked the door and they made their way up the stairs.

"We have to get to higher ground," Haymitch instructed, and together they made their way towards the top of the boat. There were people everywhere, some running, some shouting, some jumping, some crying. Most people seemed to have the same idea he had had and were running towards the top.

"Haymitch," whispered Effie, clutching his hand tightly.

"You're gonna be okay, Princess," he told her. "We have to stay on the ship for as long as possible. C'mon." He pulled her along, passing people who were dropping like flies, whether from jumping or falling they didn't know.

With all of the strength he mustered Haymitch pulled Effie along as they reached the top of the boat, grabbing on to the rail. As the boat started to rise people started to slide down. At some point the boat split, causing the front of the boat to fall back down. A few people screamed. Effie just closed her eyes at Haymitch held her tighter. Eventually the front of the boat started to rise back up into the cold air.

Haymitch climbed over the rail, climbing over so that the rail would better protect them from falling. He helped her climb over, and she did as she was told without asking.

At one point the the front of the boat was totally in the air. It didn't immediately start to sink, but Haymitch immediately knew it wouldn't stay still for long. Sure enough, after a few seconds, the ship started to sink at what felt like a rapid pace.

"When I tell you to hold your breath, take a deep breath and do it," instructed Haymitch. "When we hit the water, whatever happens, don't let go, okay? Don't let me go, and keep kicking."

"Okay," she nodded. She clutched Haymitch's hand and he looked at her. "No matter what happens," she whispered, "You're why my heart goes on."

She'd always wanted to be saved, he realized, she just couldn't find it in her to save herself. She smiled at him as the boat continued to fall. They didn't have much longer.

He clutched her hand, noting the water was rapidly approaching them. "Same here, Princess."

On his count, they held their breath and jumped.

 _The end. I left it open, because like I said, I'm never gonna kill Haymitch, so it's up to you to decide how you want it to end—you can stay true to Titanic, you can have them both die, you can keep them both alive. Alls I know is I wasn't about to write no scene where Effie tells Haymitch she'll never let go and then proceeds to let his frozen body sink into the ocean. Not gonna happen._

 _Also I REALLY struggled with making Haymitch an artist like Leo was in Titanic, which is why I switched him to drawing blueprints as opposed to be people – I still wanted Haymitch to be slightly suspicious about people and more so be a loner, unlike Jack who was popular._

 _Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my TWO HUNDRETH POST! OMG I still can't believe that. Waiting for more prompts!_


	201. Living One

_lol978_ _'s prompt: I love this chapter, could you do a sequel with effie through pregnancy and then haymitch finally holding his child_

 **LIVING ONE**

 **Rated T**

The minute Haymitch and Ash saw her coming down the stairs they were off the couch and walking towards her, one on each side, gripping her hand.

"What are you doing outta bed?" scolded Haymitch as he led her down the stairs. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, I'm _fine_. I don't need help to walk down my own stairs."

"Princess if you sneeze too hard you'll pop," Haymitch snorted.

"That is certainly rude," stated Effie. "But I feel fine. I'm actually down here because I'm _starving_."

"We could fix you something to eat," Ash said as they walked her over to the couch. They forced her to sit down, and she gritted her teeth.

"If you two don't stop _babying_ me, I will _scream_ ," snapped out Effie. "I am _fine_. I feel better than fine, actually. I could run a mile. I have more energy than I did all weekend. Why don't you guys go and pester Katniss or cuddle with Willow?"

Haymitch brushed aside her temper. He'd feared that she'd be impossible to live with while pregnant, but she'd actually been okay. She was more emotional, but other than that she remained the same, aside from the fact that she couldn't stay off of him. She'd always had quite the appetite, but once she got pregnant there was no stopping her.

Not that he was complaining.

The pregnancy hadn't been all that difficult, especially once the morning sickness had passed. She was insecure about her weight, because she hadn't gained as much with Ash, and she was _huge_ with this one—not that he'd ever tell her that, he didn't have a death wish.

Other than that, she'd been her usual self.

Except for this last month. He'd never thought Effie and Katniss had a lot in common, but he had no idea what that ninth month did to women. Maybe it was a universal thing. All he knew was that Katniss was moodier than ever in her last month, and Effie had been no different. She was tired of being pregnant, and she was tired of being babied and pestered. Haymitch had never thought he'd cater to her every need, but the bigger she got the more he realized the closer she was to giving birth to their child.

Suddenly he realized there was going to be another Abernathy baby, and suddenly he was childproofing _everything_ while making sure Effie didn't over exert herself. He thought if she walked too hard she might go into labor.

Not to mention she'd had a few false alarms over the past week: clutching her stomach in the middle of the night, forcing him to jump out of bed and head to the kid's house. Mrs. Everdeen had told them that she'd have contractions now, and they were told how to differentiate between _real_ contractions and false alarms.

"We're not leaving you," Haymitch finally answered. "Here." He shoved the remote at her. "Want me to put in _Pretty in Pink_?"

Effie sighed. "No. I'll probably never watch that movie again."

"Our baby will probably come out pink," muttered Haymitch.

Effie narrowed her eyes at him and stood up. Haymitch immediately tried to get her to sit back down but she looked ready to fight him. "I'm simply going to put in _Pretty Woman_ , okay?"

"I can do it," Ash stated, and Effie glared at him. Haymitch cringed. He knew if Effie could look at Ash that way, he was in for it.

"I am perfectly capable of putting a movie in," said Effie, her voice shaking. "I'm not incompetent."

"I know that, Effie," Haymitch sighed.

"Then stop treating me like the child in my stomach."

"We love you, Mom," stated Ash. "We just want you to be okay, right Daddy?"

"Exactly."

Effie bit her lip and stared at her husband and son and sighed gently. "I know that. I'm sorry. I know I've been impossible these past few weeks. I just hate being made to feel like I can't do anything on my own. I don't like not having that much control." Her eyes clouded over for a moment, and she blinked rapidly when she found Haymitch in front of her, his eyes concerned. "I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm fine."

Haymitch looked at her for several moments. "What would you like to do?"

"Well I'd really like Peeta's recipe for his snickerdoodle cookies, if I'm being honest," Effie stated.

"All right," Haymitch stated. "I'll call him and we can make them."

"Thank you."

Twenty minutes later Effie was bending down, sliding the cookies into the oven, when she gasped, dropping the cookie sheet.

Haymitch's heart lodged itself firmly in his stomach. "Effie? What is it?" He was there in seconds, as were Peeta and Katniss.

Effie groaned, clutching her stomach. "It's just a contraction," she breathed.

He looked at her, skeptical. "Are you sure? I haven't seen you in this much pain all month."

Effie moaned softly. "I… I don't know. It hurts."

"Is it your first one?" asked Katniss, Willow in her arms.

"No. I've had them all day."

Peeta gasped. "You've been having contractions all day?" He glanced at Haymitch. "How far apart are they?"

"Like…" she gasped again. "I don't know. Eight minutes or so."

" _Eight minutes_?" Haymitch felt his knees go weak. "Oh my God." She was going into labor. Of course she was.

"Relax," stated Katniss. "Peeta, go and get my mother. Effie. Let's move you upstairs." She nodded to Haymitch, who immediately took his cue. She watched them walk upstairs, hiding her anxiety until her mother showed up with Peeta, her bags in tow.

"Where are they?" Mrs. Everdeen asked.

"Already upstairs."

Mrs. Everdeen was gone in an instant, and then Peeta spoke. "I just called Delly. She's on her way. I thought we could use her in watching Ash and Willow."

"Good idea."

When Delly made it they quickly made their way upstairs.

Katniss immediately knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" asked Katniss.

"Haymitch, Effie, listen to me." Mrs. Everdeen's voice was firm. "Don't panic. It's perfectly normal."

" _What's_ perfectly normal?"

"The baby's breached."

Haymitch sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes immediately glossing over to panic.

"Haymitch, relax." Effie always knew how to talk to him, they all realized. "It just means the baby's turned around. It's fine. Mrs. Everdeen just has to turn the baby around."

"Actually," stated Mrs. Everdeen. "I don't think I should do it. I've never delivered a breached baby, and I don't want you two to be the first." She took a deep breath. "I think we need to take her to the hospital, and I know you don't like hospitals," rushed on Mrs. Everdeen, "but 12 is turning into a _very_ respectable District in regards to medicine."

"Are you saying there's no way you can deliver this baby?" Haymitch asked.

"I'm saying I'm not confident I can deliver a breached baby. If something were to happen and we had to cut Effie open… I don't have the tools for that."

"Haymitch," Katniss said. "Trust her."

Haymitch looked at Effie, squeezing her hand. "I'll call the hospital and have them send a car."

 **XxXxXx**

For the first time Haymitch's fear didn't have him wishing for a bottle. He was too afraid for Effie to think about anything other than her and their baby.

Fortunately he didn't have anything to be worried about. The child wasn't too stubborn at all, and when it was time to turn around, the child stayed turned. Effie actually had a simple birth, and he only nearly lost his entire hand.

She did declare that she'd _never_ touch him again, and he'd sleep on the couch for the rest of his _pathetic_ life, but other than that, it was a smooth delivery.

Even after he fainted after he'd peaked over that curtain.

It was all pretty much a blur, until that fateful moment that he heard his daughter's cries. He'd nearly snatched the doctor for slapping their daughter, until she let out a wail proving she was alive and well.

Effie cried like a baby, and Haymitch had to swallow the lump in his own throat as he watched his wife cradle his daughter. It was all so surreal. He thought if he could freeze this moment, all might be okay with the world.

He forgot how to breathe when Effie looked up at him and lifted their daughter so that he could take her. He stood there frozen for a few seconds, trying to remember how to breathe properly, and finally he reached out and grabbed her.

He held her like she was a treasure, and in a way, she was. She was everything to him, and this moment was something he'd never forget. She was his sole reason for breathing. This was the best moment of his life, he decided.

"What are you going to name her?" asked the doctor.

Haymitch looked at Effie. They'd had this discussion a million and one times over the course of her pregnancy. She wanted him to name her since she'd named Ash, and they'd gone back and forth trying to find the perfect name. But now that he was staring at this precious jewel, he remembered a name that meant something to him, something that always stuck out to him.

"Ava," Haymitch finally stated. "Her name is Ava."

"Oh, Haymitch," sighed Effie, and he knew she remembered it too.

Simply put, Ava meant _living one_.

And they could all use a little bit of life after all the death they'd seen.


	202. Damned Good Sex

**DAMNED GOOD SEX**

 **Rated M for smut—obviously (Snape voice).**

There wasn't a lot she truly understood about them, but the sex was damned good.

That much she knew for sure.

It always had been. She could tell he wasn't all that experienced when they first started – not with Nova most likely being the only girl he'd been with. She assumed he'd probably had had a few one-night stands before the hatred of the Capitol consumed him. By the time he'd finally gotten to her he probably hadn't had anyone to practice with in over fifteen years.

Still, he was a man, and most of them had a natural instinct about this thing.

She'd taught him a thing or two over the years, and as much as he had hated her at first, he'd learned, until he was making her toes curl, her back arch, and her body flush. Her orgasms were always hard, her screams always loud, and her scratches always deep.

He was _good_ at what he did.

Take now for instance. He currently had her pinned up against the wall, inside the train, and was having his way with her. She was _letting_ him, because she was passed the point of being able to tell him no or chastise him about manners and propriety. She didn't see the point. Who else could do the things he could to her?

Certainly not a man from the _Capitol_.

No man from the Capitol would ever dare push her against a wall, hike up her dress, and pound into her without so much of a question leaving his lips. Haymitch _took_ , but damn it he gave, too, and he gave himself _every single time_ , and had been doing so even more for the past year.

She tried to moan out his name, but another orgasm ripped through her instead and she ended up choking out a sob of pleasure, throwing her head back, and meeting his fierce thrusts with harsh ones of her own.

He was the only man to ever undo Effie Trinket so rapidly, so forcefully, and so amazingly.

Haymitch followed suit and emptied himself into her, grunting as he did so, his breath coming out in spurts. His body sagged against hers, his stubble tickling her cheek, his hands still feeling out her body, making her orgasm last even longer. She waited for her limbs to start working again before she finally untangled herself from around him.

Haymitch backed away from her, putting himself back into his pants and zipping himself up. His hands were still shaking as he buckled his pants. He watched Effie out of the corner of his eye, the way she smoothly straightened out her olive green dress and stepped back into her one lone gold heel – the other one hadn't quite made its way off of her painted foot. She turned to the mirror, straightening her blonde hair.

"Here," Haymitch stated, handing Effie her over-the-top wig. She gave him a soft thank-you and took the wig he'd snatched off of her head – he'd taken to doing that lately, and she spent many sleepless nights wondering what it meant – but she didn't question it.

She did notice was that some of the best sex they had was when she was in her natural state, no makeup, no wig, no fancy dress, no nothing. She tucked that information away a couple of years ago and found herself undressing herself before he got to her room, and there was always something _different_ about those nights when he was inside of her.

"I want you to stay where I can see you at all times," Haymitch told her firmly as he buttoned his shirt. "I mean it, Effie. I want you in my line of sight at every single moment."

Effie stared at him through the mirror, taking in his frown lines. His eyes swept the train even now, always on guard. "Okay."

"Those Peacekeepers are trigger-happy, which they proved earlier when our dearest Katniss and the Boy With the Bread decided to _not_ read from their cue cards. If I don't see you, I expect you to tell me where you are. I might try and sneak away to see Chaff since he's not allowed at the dinner. Stay near Cinna and Portia if I leave."

She turned and faced him. "I am not a child, Haymitch."

"Look, I already gotta worry about the kids. I'm not in the mood to add you to that list." She felt something that felt deliciously like swooping in the pit of her stomach. He didn't wanna _worry_ about her.

There was that confusion again. Things were certainly changing between them. Where it used to be just sex – clearly defined, just sex, no feelings, no talking about it – it was different now.

She didn't know if it was him or her or both.

She'd find out soon enough. She had a plan in mind.

"Okay, Haymitch," Effie finally stated. She walked up to him and straightened his tie, her hands lingering on his chest. He gave her his signature smirk and stole a kiss— _that_ was something else that was new, too. They never used to kiss. But there was a lot they were now doing that they didn't used to.

He left the train first and then she waited a few minutes to exit behind him. She wondered if he had dragged her in here before dinner with the mayor because of those gunshots from earlier. Her adrenaline had been up too, and it was something about seeing him take charge and hike Katniss and Peeta up those stairs that did _things_ to her. She'd wanted him ever since, and seeing his temper flair when those Peacekeepers stopped her from visiting the building… it had her all hot and bothered, and she kept thinking of ways to sneak a quickie with him yet she wasn't as good at it as he was.

One look from him and she made her way to the train and waited for him, and then he was all over her.

She wondered if the train had been rocking.

Effie cleared her head and made her way off of the train, taking special care to stay where Haymitch could see her. He didn't have a clue that that was always the plan, though for an entirely different reason.

…

Haymitch was talking to Seeder when he noticed it.

The Mayor, touching Effie.

Effie _letting_ the Mayor touch him.

And then she threw her head back, laughed, and touched his arm.

She was flirting with him.

Which she made obvious by accepting his invitation to dance.

Oh, he'd show her.

…

Effie couldn't say she was all that surprised when Haymitch gave her the cold shoulder for the rest of the night. She was worried when he stalked into his room, slamming his door, and she sent a look to Cinna and Portia. They both nodded and winked at her, assuring her that it was fine.

It had been _their_ idea.

She had confessed to them after the Games that yes, she was in love with Haymitch. They had been asking her and pressuring her and they wanted all the details imaginable, especially Portia, who had had a crush on Haymitch as a young girl just like any female – or gay boy—would have at the sight of the cocky, grey-eyed hero of District 12.

She'd also admitted that she didn't think he felt the same way, and they had both been adamant about that being false. They'd given her a million examples, even going as far to say that even if he hadn't before, with having to be sober for most of the 74th Games, he definitely knew she was different now, and wouldn't be able to resist her.

Still, Effie was quite convinced it was just sex with Haymitch, so Cinna and Portia had told her there was one way to find out if he was into her: flirt with another man in front of him and see how he responded.

They'd been right.

He'd come into her room in the middle of the night, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He crawled into her bed, practically on top of her, and his mouth was ferocious on hers.

She moaned softly, her body tensing as the pleasure started to take over. He undressed her – something else he'd been doing lately. Normally he just pushed up her dress or nightdress and shoved himself into her. But this time he pulled the cover away from her, lifted up her nightdress off of her body, undressed himself, and slid into her with purposeful determination.

It wasn't the first time he'd been possessive with her. He'd walked in on Cinna undressing her once, and it took her _forever_ to convince Haymitch that Cinna was _only_ her stylist and that he wasn't undressing her to screw her brains out.

"I've never seen _him_ naked, if that makes you feel better," she'd told him. Apparently nothing would make him feel better, at least until he bent her over her vanity and had his name spilling from her lips over a thousand times.

This time seemed to be different.

He was brutal, but their eyes were locked, locked the _entire_ time. _This_ was the first time that had happened, and she wasn't sure what to make of it, only she couldn't look away. It seemed to heighten her experience, and she felt herself cumming quicker than ever.

He sped up, growling. "I don't want you flirting with other men," he stated, and she blinked at him. "I don't want you _looking_ at other men, okay?"

She _wanted_ to say yes, but the pleasure was overwhelming. She arched her back, tightening her legs around him, his name rapidly leaving her mouth.

"I mean it, Effie." He was close. His voice was strained, his eyes dark. "I don't want you seeing other men."

"And you?" Effie challenged. He'd certainly had his fair share of dances with Seeder. Effie didn't _care_ that they were _friends_ , and it was probably no different for them than it was with her and Finnick, and that Seeder was much too old in the same way that Finnick was much too young….

"There's no other woman for me," he told her, and at that admission he buried his face in her neck. She came, violently, whimpering as the orgasm ripped through her. He hadn't meant to say it, she knew. They were not strangers to admitting things to each other in the heat of the moment.

Normally by morning it was forgotten.

Apparently not tonight.

"I'm not drunk, Effie. Nor am I high off sex. If I ever see you pull a stunt like you did tonight with the Mayor, I will act a fool. Are we clear?" They were both staring at the ceiling, his voice still laced with sex, her heart still hammering.

She blushed. She wanted to tell him that it had been Cinna and Portia's idea, but that would involve the backstory about them suspecting he was just as in love with her as she was with him, and she didn't think she could handle telling him that right now. She was not too keen on being rejected.

"I'm sorry," Effie stated instead.

"Don't try to make me jealous." With those words he turned on his side, away from her, and she smiled. He _was_ jealous, and pouting too. She bit her lip for a few seconds, debating, and then decided to press her body against his, wrapping her arms around him.

"I am sorry," she said again.

He grunted, but somehow his body relaxed.

When his body started relaxing while cuddling – when had they even started cuddling? – was beyond her.

He had her for the rest of the night. He hardly slept over, and it was the same with her. He'd been offering her excuses lately – and she believed them, it wasn't just an excuse, but the truth—he couldn't afford to start getting careless. There was no room for anybody to suspect them, and they couldn't let Katniss and Peeta see them.

Tonight he didn't seem to care.

Nor did he care if he woke up the _entire train_ with the way he was sliding in and out of her. The first time he woke her up he was inside of her, his teeth sinking down into her neck. His calloused hands were everywhere and she'd moaned, and then he was moving in and out of her with a gentleness he'd only used a few times. She sighed, whispering out his name.

"I love the way my name sounds coming from your lips," Haymitch groaned out, stilling as he pulled out of her.

"I'm sure it sounds just as good as my name does from your lips," said Effie softly. He climbed off of her but pulled her to him. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent. He smelled like he always did: coal, musk, and alcohol, though she could currently add her strawberry and vanilla mix to that.

 _She_ woke _him_ up an hour later, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched her sink down on him, her body rocking to a lazy rhythm. He followed suit, sitting up and planting lazy kisses along her body. It was a far cry from their passionate, hot, heavy nights.

Things were _changing_ , which he made clear by relinquishing control until she came before placing her on her back and having his way with her. Normally they battled for domination. They were both headstrong and Haymitch was used to leading, and just because he listened to Effie didn't mean he always did what he was told, and he could be such a tease, but no one else had ever made her cum multiple times. Between the arched back, the curled toes, and the scratched backs, she didn't think she'd ever want another man.

She was a goner.

He moved off of her again, panting. "I'm too old for this shit," he stated.

Effie grinned. "That's a shame. I could definitely go again. But I know you're old. It's fine."

"Fuck you, Effie."

She laughed, her lips seeking his, and he obliged, his lips more than familiar now. The past year had seen to that. His hands cupped her cheeks, his thumb caressing the side of her mouth.

"We're being stupid, Effie." Her stomach dropped. "Really stupid."

"I know," said Effie softly, blushing and dropping her gaze.

He kept his eyes glued to hers, his hands still caressing her. "You're not being stupid by yourself, okay?"

Her breath caught in his throat.

"Don't say anything. Just go to sleep knowing you're not alone."

"How do you expect me to not say anything?" Her voice was thick, but she could think of a few things her mouth could do instead of talking. She had him squirming and begging and pleading and he could barely make it inside of her before he was losing control.

 _Finally_ they slept, when the sun had just started to rise, and she found herself wrapped around him.

She woke up to more kisses, gentle ones, on her neck and shoulder. She turned around, flat on her back, and let his kisses lull her awake. When his lips wrapped around her breasts she squirmed and sat up.

"Shower?" she asked, and he nodded.

Those gentle moments were gone the minute their bodies touched the water. He entered her swiftly, her body slick, and had his way with her against the tile. She couldn't quiet herself or keep calm or do anything other than scream his name until her voice was hoarse. She came so many times she lost count.

His hands and lips were everywhere.

"I love being inside of you," he gasped out, which explained why he was sliding in and out of her so quickly.

"I love it too," Effie moaned. He gripped her a little tighter, as if pleased by her admission.

"Think the mayor could fuck you like this?"

"I do not _want_ the mayor." She buried her face in his neck, feeling close to the edge. "I do not want anyone else. No one else does my body like this."

"Just your body?" snarled Haymitch. His hips jerked, and she knew he was close.

"It's more than that, Haymitch."

"Yah? How?" He switched positions, slamming her against the wall. She'd be bruised, she knew, but it was _so damn worth it_. _He_ was so damn worth it.

"I love you." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, but he didn't miss a beat.

"I know." He sped up, his lips on hers, rocking in and out of her as if she hadn't just poured her soul into him. His kiss was searing, his tongue battling for domination. When he broke away he rested his forehead on hers. "Back atcha, Princess."

She wasn't sure if it was one of those heat of the moments things again. They seemed to be happening more now. It was the first time she'd actually used the L word, though she'd told him variations of the phrase over the past few months.

He never ran from her, though.

Then again, she'd never directly said it to him.

"You are afraid of commitment," Effie reminded him as he slid in and out of her.

He growled and deepened his strokes. "I'm not running from you, Effie. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

He was trapped too, he knew, and he had known she was in love with him before she had known. It hadn't made him stop then, and it wouldn't change now.

She came, and he did the same, their hips jerking.

They didn't know what would happen. Everything was so crazy since the berries and the Rebellion and Effie being on their team…. It was a lot to think about, but he didn't have _time_ to consider it all. Had he fallen for her when he thought it was incapable of loving? Yes. Had he fallen for her at the worst possible time in history? Yes. Did it change anything? No.

One thing he did know once he pulled out of her, though, was that the sex was still consistent and damned good. That much he could count on. As long as _that_ never changed, they could figure the rest out later.


	203. Of Burlesque Dresses and Fishnets

**OF DRESSES AND FISHNETS**

 **Rated T+**

It surprised him when she walked into his house that year. She was… different. _Hot_. He was sitting in his usual spot, in his rocking chair by the fireplace, and he had his usual brand of liquor in his hands. Nothing was _different_ that day; just a typical Reaping day and his Escort had barged into his house without so much as a courteous knock – they were passed that stage at that point, and she'd learned him well enough to know that he wouldn't respond to her – and she would start demanding that he get ready so that they could be _on time_.

He would say something mean and hurtful, something accusing, like she couldn't wait to volunteer children to their death, and she'd pretend that it didn't hurt her, only it did, because he had learned enough about her to know that she was _human_.

He'd destroyed her once, her first year, when she'd been so startled at their Tribute's deaths that her gasp carried all around the Penthouse. He had told her exactly why she _shouldn't_ have been surprised, and then proceeded to explain to her exactly what kind of game it was the Capitol was playing. He wasn't sure she'd ever forgiven him for that, and he was more than sure that she wouldn't show up the following year, only she did, and the year after that, and the year after that.

They fought, they fought like cats and dogs, like good and evil, like hate and love, but he'd caught her crying enough to know that she wasn't as naïve as he once thought she was. She _cared_ and he'd never met a Capitol who cared before. It made him stop being cruel, but it didn't make him stop being mean, and that was a difference she'd have to figure out how to appreciate.

When she came into his house this year, he was speechless.

He'd have never looked twice at Effie Trinket if he could help it, but she was the kind of simple beauty that took you aback and knocked you off your feet. She was stunning, but there was an innocence to her beauty. It had taken Haymitch years to realize that it was because she was natural – she had never had any work done as far as he knew, and he was pretty good at being able to tell. He had no idea what color her real hair was or how she looked underneath all that cake but Haymitch assumed she was decent because her bone structure was good: high cheekbones, pouty lips, toned arms and legs….

He'd never seen much of her shape before, but suddenly he knew Effie Trinket was a _woman_. She had curves now, luscious curves, _distracting_ curves, and he briefly wondered if she'd finally succumbed to the Capitol's pressure and gotten work done, only he didn't suspect so.

He concluded that it was the fashion.

Over the years the fashion had changed dramatically. One year everybody wore pink _all the time_. Another year long dresses were in style. Last year had something to do with big poufy dresses that weighed more than the person wearing them.

 _This_ year was something different all together. He didn't know what to call it, he just knew it involved lace and a leather corset and he hoped this _never_ went out of style. It was… _sexy_ and he'd never pictured his Escort as sexy before, but it was hard not to when her dress stopped mid-thigh and was only covered with stockings with holes in them. It was a little unnerving and he swallowed hard as she walked towards him, her hips swaying seductively.

" _Haymitch_ , are you even _listening_?" He shook his head to clear it and glanced up to find Effie standing in front of him. "I do not even know why I am still surprised." She was already annoyed, he could tell. "Go upstairs and get ready." She reached for his bottle and he let her grab it. "No more of this until we are on our way to the Capitol."

"How old are you?" blurted out Haymitch.

Effie gaped, looking scandalized. "You are _rude_ and uncouth, and I am unsure how that still shocks me."

"It's jus' a question, Princess." She narrowed her eyes at him. He'd started calling her that a few years ago when mermaid dresses were in style. "If you answer it now I won't have to ask you again."

Effie huffed. "I started as your Escort when I was eighteen. It's been seven years. _You_ can do the math." She turned away from him, taking his bottle with her, and started cleaning up some of his mess. She always did that, and he'd stopped trying to tell her it wasn't necessary, she would just go on a rampage about how living like that was unacceptable.

He went and got ready, hoping the shower would clear his mind.

It didn't, and he worried that this year would change everything.

* * *

Effie was greeted with loud cheers when she made her way off of the train. She had changed into a hot red dress that was also lace and leather and the crowd went crazy. The two of them never got a lot of cheers – the perks of being the laughing District of The Hunger Games – but when they did it was usually because of her.

He didn't remember it ever being this crazy. Both men and women alike were screaming her name, and Effie, ever the attention whore, flashed a bright smile and waved to the crowd.

There were quite a few posters as well, and a few blow ups of Effie back when she modeled with _very_ suggestive outfits on. They were screaming that they wanted an autograph. One man asked her to marry him.

Haymitch wasn't sure why he was so annoyed.

* * *

Haymitch was on his third drink when Chaff stiffened next to him.

"Holy shit," said Chaff, and Haymitch knew that tone. He'd spotted someone who looked good, which contrary to popular belief, was rare. Chaff might sleep with anything with long legs, but he rarely found Capitols truly attractive.

"What?" Haymitch asked, sort of bored. It was a well known truth that despite the fact that they were best friends they didn't have the same taste in women. Haymitch didn't _do_ Capitols. Period. Chaff liked them pretty, busty, but natural. That was rare, and they both knew it, but even when Chaff did find someone worth looking at, she normally never sparked Haymitch's interest.

"She is _hot_." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. Chaff didn't normally use that word. His signature phrase was, "Now she's worth looking at," because most of them _weren't_. Chaff had only used the word hot once, about a girl back home that he actually liked, only she'd gotten married a few years ago, and Chaff had been a rolling stone ever since.

"Who?" slurred Haymitch.

" _Who_? What are you, _blind_? Your _Escort_."

Haymitch braced himself and tried desperately hard to keep himself from scowling. "Didn't notice," he muttered.

"Then you're an _idiot_. Look at her."

He didn't want to. He'd seen her. The reason he'd actually made it to the party on time was because he had left early so he wouldn't have to see her. Still, he found himself looking towards the entrance, and his breath caught in his throat.

It was another dress that looked similar enough to the last two he'd seen her in, only the color was a toasted orange. Diamonds seemed to be her thing because there were a ton of them, and the color of the diamonds kept reflecting the orange hue, and the affect made her look… well, beautiful came to mind.

For some reason, time actually stopped as he stared at her.

"You're drooling, Mate."

"Fuck you," Haymitch stated, and he immediately turned and ordered another drink – something darker, and something stronger.

"So you did notice."

"I didn't notice _shit_."

"Well let me tell you what I noticed," said Chaff. "You're attracted to her."

"There's nothing attractive about plastic."

"Effie's not plastic." Chaff glanced at her again. "She's just a woman now. You should… take advantage. I mean clearly she's into you."

Haymitch nearly choked on his cocktail. " _What_?"

Chaff rolled his eyes. "I knew you weren't just playing dumb. You're just truly naïve. Your Escort's into you, and everyone knows it."

"What'd make you say some stupid shit like that?"

"It's obvious. Trinket won't let anyone say a bad word about you." Chaff frowned. "I guess you'd never really know it, but who do you think defends you every time you get piss face drunk and the Capitol starts talking? She's brilliant. I don't know what she went to school for but her PR skills are outta this world. She's saved you a lot of embarrassment. You owe her a lot."

Haymitch chewed on that for a few moments.

"I think the best way to thank her is to rock her world."

Haymitch gritted his teeth. "No."

"Then can I? I'll tell her it's on your behalf."

"You won't either. You'll stay the fuck away from her, actually."

Chaff raised an eyebrow. "Okay, relax. I was joking."

"Don't joke about my Escort."

" _Your_ Escort? I thought it was the Capitol who thought they owned people." Haymitch glared at Chaff. "Relax, Mate. I was kidding. I'll leave Effie alone."

"You do that." Haymitch finished his drink and got up. He wasn't sure why he was so annoyed, he just didn't like hearing his best friend talk about Effie like that. She wasn't a piece of _meat_ , and she was certainly off limits.

It would take another few years for them to sleep together. She would come in from a party and he'd be on the couch, drinking. She'd give him a slight nod and head off to her room, only to return a few moments later.

"How drunk are you right now?" Effie asked, and he snorted.

"Not nearly enough." They'd had a particularly bad fight earlier that day and she'd taken out her frustration by pouring out all of his liquor. He'd snuck into her room and taken her bottle of wine but they hardly did anything for him.

"I need your help."

"I'm no shrink, Princess."

She sighed and rolled her eyes but walked up to him. "I tied my corset too tight. Can you unknot it?"

He froze for a second. He'd taken special care not to touch her if he could help it. She seemed completely unbothered with touching him, in fact Haymitch was sure she enjoyed it, because she did it so often, and he suspected that it was because she was into him. Ever since Chaff had made the statement he'd looked for the signs, and they were certainly there.

He refused to admit he was into her too, because if that line was ever crossed, he would never live it down.

He wondered if she was setting him up.

"Just untie it," Effie said quietly. "And hurry. I haven't been able to breathe properly for hours."

Haymitch gulped and sat up, his hands shaking slightly as he started working the pretty little bow that kept her corset together. He knew he had hoped this style would never die out, but it made it awfully hard to breathe to see her parading around like this.

Haymitch worked the knot for several moments before declaring it hopeless. "It's stuck."

Effie let out an annoyed sigh. "Can you use your knife please?"

"Are you crazy?"

"What? I can't stay in this forever. I am quite tired and would like to go to sleep. I can't even lie down with this thing on."

"Then why the _hell_ do you wear it?"

"Because it is in style, and you like it."

He froze and she inhaled sharply. He could see her reflection in the mirror near the elevator. She closed her eyes, clearly annoyed with herself.

"How long have you known?"

"What, that you are attracted to me?" Effie shrugged. "I think I knew before you did. Your hands wander when you are drunk and your mouth is even worse. _You_ figured it out three years ago when I showed up in that black number."

He was unnerved by the fact that she knew him so well, and she must have sensed that because she turned to face him.

"It does not mean anything, Haymitch. We are attracted to each other because we are two attractive individuals. You are ashamed because I am Capitol, which I understand. Aside from that we are colleagues and I would never put myself in a position that would make you uncomfortable. You are my Mentor and I respect you, even if you do not respect me."

"I don't not respect you," Haymitch told her.

Effie smiled sadly at him. "I pick the names, Haymitch. I hardly respect myself."

He glanced around. "You can't say things like that, Effie."

She nodded. "You are right. Escorts are supposed to be happy, and I tell you, nothing would make me happier than getting out of this dress, so if you would please, Mr. Abernathy…."

He grabbed his knife and stood up. He didn't have to tell her to stand still, it was a given, and he sliced open her dress, revealing creamy white skin that had his heart speeding up. "I do like it when you call me Mr. Abernathy," he told her.

Effie turned around, a small smile on her face. She clutched her dress to her. "I know." He willed himself to keep his eyes locked with hers until she turned around. "Goodnight, Haymitch."

"Night, Princess," he called, and he sat down with a smirk.

She didn't seem all that surprised when he came into her room later on that night. In fact she seemed ready for him, like this was a line she had waited for them to cross for awhile now. The sex blew his mind, even as a part of his brain warned him that what he was doing was dangerous.

They laid ground rules that night, because the sex was too good not to do it again: no markings where people could see, no public displays of affection, this was not a relationship, and they were not exclusive.

Over the years the last two became debatable. He found he was possessive and she was quite jealous. They didn't like seeing the other with other people so that after a few years they agreed that they were exclusive.

It would take them getting married to admit that they were in a relationship. Even after the war and after she'd moved to Twelve they refused to claim they were in a relationship. One day he asked her to marry him and she accepted, and then they were husband and wife.

They were probably the only married couple in history who had never officially dated before.

On the night of their honeymoon, some five years after the war, Haymitch turned to her.

"What was that style you wore all those years ago to the Reaping? The all black with the leather and lace and stockings with holes?"

Effie had laughed for what felt like a good hour before finally answering. "They were not stocking with _holes_. They are called fishnets." She chuckled again, leaning into him. "It was a Burlesque style dress. That's what was in then. Burlesque dresses and fishnets."

Haymitch thought about that dress. "I kinda miss those things."

Effie's finger traced Haymitch's stomach. "I am sure I can order a few from the Capitol," she told him.

He looked at her. She'd changed some over the years, but not by much. At least not to him. She was perfect in his eyes, at least in her natural state.

"We can role play… play dress up." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and he snorted.

"Yah, Princess, I think I'd like that."

He'd actually like that _a lot_.


	204. Seven-Year Itch

**SEVEN-YEAR ITCH**

 **Rated T**

"What're you doin', Princess?" asked Haymitch. He'd been looking for Effie for _forever_ , and finally he found her in the office, a place none of them ever were. They'd gotten the office for Ash for when he needed to use a computer for school work, but Haymitch certainly never went in there, and neither did Effie, really, unless Ash needed her.

Ash was currently asleep, so he hadn't looked for her here.

"Shopping," Effie responded absentmindedly.

" _Shopping_?" Haymitch arched an eyebrow. She hardly ever shopped anymore. Life in 12 was simple, and ever since they'd had the kids she was content with their quaint life in 12. Suddenly he walked around looked over his shoulder. He gaped. "What is _that_?"

"They're _clothes_ , Haymitch," sighed Effie, clearly annoyed. "What does it look like?"

"I don't like it," Haymitch stated. "I don't like those at all."

"They're _dresses_."

"They're _Capitol_ ," spat Haymitch. "You're not dressing my daughter like a future fucking _Escort_." Effie stilled, and Haymitch realized almost immediately he'd messed up. Her entire body tensed. "Effie, I didn't mean that exactly how it sounded."

She didn't respond. She just slowly backed away from the computer, never once looking at him, and gathered her things, making her exit.

"Effie. _Effie_."

For the first time ever, she ignored him.

 **XxXxXx**

They'd had their share of fights over the years. They'd certainly had them before they were married, and they definitely had them after they'd gotten married. Fighting was typical for them, but they didn't have _real_ fights. They hadn't in years. They argued—boy could they argue—but had they seriously had a genuine argument? Not in several years.

They certainly hadn't gone to bed truly angry at each other for seven years.

That changed tonight.

She didn't look at him. She didn't touch him. He doubted he even existed to her.

After a week of tension and silence he felt this familiar dread in the pit of his stomach, dread he hadn't felt in years. It wasn't like them to not make up. They _always_ made up. Yet by the beginning of the second week she hadn't said but two words to him.

When he walked in on her packing he nearly lost it. "I think I am going to leave for a while." Those were the first words she'd spoken to him, and they had him freezing. He took several calming breaths before looking up at her. "I think I might go and visit Annie. See Finn. It'll be nice to… get away from you, I think."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, _shit_. She was truly pissed. She'd never left. He'd slept on the couch before. She'd locked him out of their bedroom. But she'd never left. She'd never walked out on him.

He didn't stop her from leaving. She'd be back, he knew. They had _kids_ , she wouldn't walk out on them. Him? She'd probably walk out on him in a heartbeat.

It was a miserable week without her. She still wasn't talking to him. Even when she'd call to talk to the kids she'd just ask for them, and that was it. Sometimes she'd tell Ash to tell him goodbye, sometimes not, but she'd never tell him herself. She'd never even tell him she loved him. Whenever she called and he picked up she'd just immediately ask, "Where's Ash?"

As time passed he figured Peeta and Katniss picked up on it. He had stopped going to dinner. He didn't have much of an appetite. He hoped that she'd ask him why he hadn't shown up, only she never did. It was like she didn't care anymore. The dread was growing in the pit of his stomach. Anytime he thought Katniss and Peeta might say something to him he sent them a steely glance that had them choking on their words.

Haymitch wouldn't know what to tell the two of them anyway.

He and Effie weren't talking or communicating or having sex or laughing or joking or _anything_ , really. They were truly a house divided, and he didn't _know what to fucking do_.

Sometimes she slept in the kid's room. When she did sleep with him she slept way on the other side of the bed. The one night she'd woken up to find herself tangled around him she'd scooted back so fast he thought there was a fire.

He didn't realize that _he_ was the one burning.

"Don't scatter away so fast," Haymitch hissed. " _You_ draped yourself around _me_." With that he got up and showered.

That was their last conversation for another several weeks.

He should have known it was all too good to be true. He _broke_ things.

He had his first nightmare of the year a few weeks after that, and it was bad. He woke up with a scream on his lips, but she was there. For the first time in a long time, she was there, comforting him, whispering to him, her breath warm on his neck.

After he'd calmed down, though, she was up and checking on the children, and she didn't return to him again that night.

Effie had a nightmare a month later, and _she_ was all over _him_. For the first time in five months he was inside of her, and he thought maybe they'd be okay now, only she was gone when he woke up.

He found her asleep on the couch, and he thought he really might snap, except he wasn't sure he had anything left to lose.

He felt the desire for the bottle creep its way up to his brain. His compromise was his family. He'd given it up for them, but if he didn't have them, what was the fucking point? He found himself needing _something_ , anything, and if it couldn't be Effie, why not his liquor?

A week after her nightmare he had another one of his own, and her body was there again. It was rough, brutal even, and unlike anything they'd shared together in _years_ , and it had him frowning.

It became routine. They were back to sex. Just sex. No intimacy. No talking. No nothing. They didn't even _kiss_. She'd just lie in bed, and either he'd start by climbing on top of her, and she'd wrap her legs around him, or she'd climb on top of him, and then they'd be all over each other.

It was just like when they used to be in the Capitol.

After six months had passed, six months of _nothing_ , one month of just straight fucking, she'd slipped on top of him, her lips on his neck. He stiffened, grabbing her.

"I can't do this," he whispered into the night.

She froze.

"Effie, I can't. I won't be used, and I won't use you. You're my _wife_. We're passed this stage of just _fucking_. I hate this. I fucked up, okay? I never should have said what I said about our daughter being an Escort. I didn't mean it, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. But what I won't do is _this_. Our days of using each other blew up with the rest of the Capitol and its Games. I'm _done_ playing Games, okay? I'm your _husband_ , and when I took those vows, it bloody meant something to me. I say stupid shit. It wasn't the first time and it won't be the fucking last. But for better or worse wasn't meant to be this hard. We've _lived_ through the worse already, Princess. If you want us to go to counseling, fine. I can do that for you. But this has _got_ to stop."

Effie wrestled out his grip but stayed on top of him, looking at him. "You _hurt_ me, Haymitch." Her voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears. She buried her face in his neck, sobs wrecking her body. He hesitated, and then wrapped his arms around her. "You still resent me."

"I don't," he whispered. Of course he didn't.

"You do. You're ashamed of me. _I'm_ ashamed of me. How am I going to tell our children I picked the names?"

"Effie," sighed Haymitch. "I'm sorry. Don't cry." He figured now would be the perfect time to tell her he loved her, but he _couldn't_. The words were there, but these past six months had set him back more than anything. He'd said it a few times in the past, but after this… after he thought he might lose her… he'd probably never be able to again.

He was pathetic.

"I'm sorry I was an Escort."

"I don't hold it against you," he told her. He pushed her back to look at her. "Believe me, Princess, if I thought I hated you, we wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be the mother of my kids, or my wife. I mean that. I truly messed up. I just panicked, 'cause I saw the dresses, and she looks so damn much like you… I fucked up, okay? It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do me with me being an idiot. I'm an idiot, and you have every right to hate me."

"I don't hate you. I thought you hated me."

And suddenly he'd understood the past six months. She acted the way she used to all those years ago because he _had_ hated her.

"This is all a big misunderstanding," he told her. "I don't hate you. I don't know _how_ to hate you. I'm sorry. You know you mean everything to me, Effie." That would never change. He kissed her temple. "Don't ever do this again. We can fight. We _do_ fight. We _always_ fight. But this silent treatment, no sex, refuse to communicate… we can't do this again. Ever. I'm _miserable_ without you, Princess."

"That's good to know. Annie said that I was crazy, and that you didn't hate me, but that you loved me."

"I do. More than anything. You _know_ that."

"Can we _please_ never fight again?" She didn't think she could handle another misunderstanding.

Haymitch snorted. "I can't promise that. But I can promise you I'll always fight for you. You don't get to get rid of me that easily."

"I don't want to get rid of you at all." She kissed him, really kissed him for the first time in months, and he sighed, the dread in his stomach finally starting to loosen.

He'd never been one to believe in superstitions, but he learned that seventh year of marriage was no joke.


	205. The Pact

**THE PACT**

 **Rated K**

"I don't like this," Effie hissed at his back as they entered his room. "I don't like this at all."

"She's a big girl," snapped Haymitch as they entered his room. "She'll be fine."

"She won't either. I don't like the thought of our Tribute returning back to 12 without protection."

"She's protected, Effie. Pipe down, Princess." He took off his beanie and started unbuttoning his jacket.

"She's not properly protected," argued Effie.

"She's survived the Arena. _Twice_. She's fine, damn it."

"Well you survived a Quell yet _you_ didn't want to go back." Haymitch stilled and glared at Effie, who glared right back. "I would have felt a lot better if Katniss' own Mentor had gone back home with her."

"I can't go back there!" The fury in his voice was hidden beneath the sound of the lamp shattering against the wall. "It'll be a graveyard. It'll be like a million more Tributes died at my hands. It'll be like reliving…." He took a deep breath. "It'll be like fucking déjà vu, damn it Effie. So just fucking _drop_ it."

Effie stayed in her spot for a long time before finally walking up to Haymitch, who was clutching his desk and breathing hard. She thought about touching him, but thought better of it.

"I forget that you're human sometimes. That you hurt. That you bleed. You don't even forget though, do you?"

"Not when I'm sober." The fact that he answered her was permission enough to touch him. She ignored the way he stiffened at her touch and gripped him tighter, turning him so that he could face her. "Don't pity me, Trinket."

"I don't pity you, Haymitch. Stop trying to pick a fight. Just let me hold you." It took him several moments to wrap his arms around her. "When's the last time you let someone do this?"

"Do what?"

"Let someone feel your pain for a few minutes?"

"Never. Not since I was sixteen." He buried his face in her neck, blurred lines be damned. It was going to happen sooner or later anyway, why not start now, on his terms? "I always have to be strong."

"You play Mentor, you play Rebel, you play Victor. I suspect it gets exhausting."

"You've no idea." Haymitch breathed her in for a few more minutes and then backed away. "Katniss will be fine. Coin wouldn't have let her go otherwise."

"I don't like that woman," said Effie, walking away from him. "She's… cruel, though she tries to hide it. I don't trust her."

"I don't trust anyone who needs as much control as she does. She sets my fucking teeth on edge."

"You're just mad you can't drink." Effie smiled when he didn't argue. The bell dinged, signaling it was dinnertime. "You coming?"

"No. I can't say I'm particularly hungry."

She stared at him, deciding to take a risk and speak her mind. "You know you can always come to me, right? I mean we haven't always been on the same page, but… I see you, Haymitch. Aside from Katniss, I'm not sure anyone else gets you like me. You can be vulnerable with me."

Haymitch stared at her for a while, itching to twist the gold bangle he wore underneath his sweater. The bangle she didn't know he wore, because he was still trying to figure out why the hell he was wearing it.

"Vulnerability is dangerous, Princess," he finally told her.

Yes, she supposed it was, particularly for them. They'd seen each at their worst. Effie wondered what it'd be like to see Haymitch at his best, and if she'd get a chance to do so when this was all said and done. She figured it'd happen sooner or later. Probably later. He'd fight it tooth and nail for as long as he could, because some days he still looked at her as his Escort. He was still trying to hide how he felt, but she knew him.

"Stop looking at me like that," snapped Haymitch, and Effie jumped.

"Looking at you like what?"

"Like you can read my fucking mind."

Effie grinned. "Darling, you're an open book."

"Am not," he mumbled.

She shook her head. "I'm going to go eat. I'll see you later."

She was halfway out the door when he called her back. She turned around and stared at him expectantly. In the end he shook his head. "Never mind."

She couldn't hide her disappointment, but before she left she decided to put herself out there again. "I could teach you, you know."

"Teach me what?"

"How to be vulnerable. To try before you fail. To win before you lose. To fly before you fall."

Haymitch stared at her for a long time. "Survive this war with me, and we'll see."

"Deal," she said, and walked away.


	206. Flying High

_******THE WALKING DEAD SPOILER! IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LATEST EPISODE, PLEASE SKIP THIS AND JUST START READING THE STORY!***** So it's official… I'm doing a Walking Dead story featuring Richonne where I'm going to talk about the two months in between episodes 9 and 10… cus I needs to know what happened in them two months for them to end up getting it on by the end of the episode. It won't take away from this story, of course, but TWD will be a mulit-chapter fan-fic…. Please be on the lookout for it. I've shipped these two since the very beginning. I was annoyed that Jesse was ever even written on the show and was relieved when she died, I had a feeling they were making room for Rick and Michonne AND I WAS RIGHT. Eeeek. So obviously I had to make story outta it. I HOPE you guys like it/enjoy it =)_

 _End spoiler. Now please enjoy another HG/HP crossover._

 **FLYING HIGH**

 **Rated**

Haymitch barely made out the people who were in the Common Room. He forgot anyone else existed for him, other than the current pain in his ass, Effie Trinket.

She stood across from him, her hand on her hip, her face contorted with rage, and the two of them had been going back and forth for quite some time now.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he understood that he was being ridiculous. They'd been snapping at each other all day, mainly because he'd told her he'd do rounds with her last night, only he ended up falling asleep – quite by accident – but apparently his word was bond to her, and now that that he had broken that trust, she was furious.

"You are not the only one who is tired, Haymitch, that is not a valid excuse," she had hissed, and it had gone horribly wrong since that statement.

He had every right to be tired, he was exhausted, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good night's sleep. Anytime he did sleep was filled with nightmares about his dead girl and family and the fact that he had _finally_ gotten a good night's sleep only for her to bitch at him all day had finally taken its toll.

"You think you're tired, Trinket? What the bloody hell do you do to be so tired?"

"All my work, plus yours," snapped Effie.

"Yah? Did you ever think maybe I was tired cus I'm plagued with nightmares? But what the hell would you know about nightmares, aside from having a bad hair day or breaking a nail? What do you know about _anything_ in the real world? You may _think_ the world is all about fashion and heels but there are real problems out there, problems you know nothing about because you're stupid and shallow and self-serving."

"You know absolutely _nothing_ about my world, Haymitch." That should have been his clue. The minute Effie Trinket stopped shouting meant she was royally pissed. As long as she was screaming and shouting and making a scene all was good. But when she got deathly quiet like this…. But he missed it, he missed his cue.

"I know that you are spoiled and ungrateful and selfish," responded Haymitch, and he didn't know why he was saying these things about her, because spending the last few months as Head Boy and Head Girl he'd learned a lot about her.

Her eyes welled with tears and he realized moments too late that he'd gone too far. She slapped him – hard, he had to blink rapidly from the sting – and then she'd turned on her heels and disappeared out of the Common Room.

Ignoring the uncomfortable silence Haymitch headed towards his room. He could feel someone behind him and assumed it was Chaff or Johanna. He wasn't expecting Finnick, though it made sense if Annie had run after Effie.

Finnick closed – more like slammed – the door behind him.

"You're way out of line here," Finnick said immediately. "You're being an asshole and you don't even know why."

"I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures, Finnick," snapped Haymitch.

"Yah well I don't really care. You don't know _anything_ about Effie. You're not the only one who's had a hard life, Haymitch." Haymitch snorted, taking off his tie. "I'm serious. Effie's had it pretty rough too."

"Yah? How?"

"Well for one she's the only person in her family who hasn't been in Slytherin in over one hundred years. Her parents are ridiculously disappointed in her, she couldn't have done worse in their eyes if she'd been Sorted into Gryffindor. She hardly goes home for the holiday; she normally stays with Annie because her parents just treat her like shit. Don't you notice how she never gets letters from them? Her owl comes a few times a week bearing empty parchment because it wouldn't be _proper_ to be seen _not_ corresponding with their daughter while she's gone for months a time. Her parents don't love her, they probably don't even love each other."

Finnick glared at Haymitch, and Haymitch sighed and sat down on his bed. "She's just so annoying."

"She pushes you because she wants better for you. You're a horrible Head Boy and you have the potential to be great. Effie makes you look good, the least you could do is pretend to be sorry when she nags you for making her do all the work."

Haymitch took a deep breath, annoyed. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to _me_. You need to say sorry to Effie. She doesn't deserve the way you treat her." Finnick shook his head. "You should go flying, clear your head. But sometime tomorrow you better had apologized to Effie." He got up and disappeared, leaving Haymitch alone with his thoughts.

…

He hadn't expected to run into Effie. He should have known he would, but he hadn't expected to. It was late – that was the whole point of him coming out at this time, so he wouldn't be caught – and everyone was supposed to be in bed.

Especially prim and proper Effie Trinket.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him, and he did the same.

"It is more than obvious what you are doing," sighed Effie, eyeing the broom, "but I hope you reconsider leaving the grounds figuring you are _Head Boy_."

"What are _you_ doing up?" countered Haymitch.

Effie sighed. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to walk around. If I was caught I decided I'd just say I thought I heard a strange noise."

Without meaning to Haymitch smirked. "Clever."

She didn't smile. She just sighed again. "Have a good night, Haymitch. If you get caught, don't tell anyone I saw you."

She started to walk passed him but he grabbed her by the arm. "I'm sorry about earlier. I was outta line."

"Yes you were, Haymitch, and you hurt my feelings." She stepped away from him. "I don't know I got to a place where I have allowed you to hurt me. We are sworn enemies, I know this. But I thought we were… I mean… we've been _friendly_ these past few weeks, so forgive me for assuming—"

"You didn't assume shit. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I'm an idiot, okay?"

Effie sighed and just nodded, attempting to walk passed him again. Once again he stopped her. "You ever been flyin'?"

Effie stared at him like he had three heads. " _What_?"

"I'm asking if you wanna come flyin' with me."

"Absolutely _not_. I don't _fly_."

"That's probably why you're so uptight." Effie sent him a death glare. "Come on, it'll be a fun. Trust me, okay?"

She hesitated for a moment, and then sighed. "I am not dressed appropriately."

Haymitch snorted. "When are you ever?" She paraded around in heels and short skirts, not because she was a slut but because she was a bloody _tease_. "We'll go get you a jacket."

She wasn't sure why she went along with him. Maybe because she desperately wanted him to like her, though she wasn't sure why. He was never very kind to her – there were times she didn't think he even knew what kind was. They made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room where he grabbed a pair of his sweats and one of his sweatshirts. Effie put it on over her dressing gown and then they made their way outside.

It was _freezing_ , and Effie doubted very much that this was a good idea, yet she realized it gave her an excuse to wrap her arms around Haymitch, which is something she'd wanted to do for _years_ , not that she'd ever say that to him.

She clung on for dear life as he shot off the ground, and burying her face in his back, she screamed at the top of her lungs. She could feel him laughing – and whether it was at her or at being free, she did not know – but she also felt the way his entire body relaxed.

She didn't move until she felt him start to slow down.

"You're missing the best part, Princess," Haymitch said, his voice laced with amusement.

"What part?"

"The view. Look."

Effie shook her head, clutching him. "You are going to push me off because you hate me."

Haymitch laughed, attempting to pry her off of him. "I don't hate you. Now open your eyes and look." Effie shook her head again. "Don't you trust me?" She shook her head and he stiffened a little.

 _That_ , funnily enough, had her opening her eyes and staring at him. "I trust you, Haymitch. I wouldn't be up here otherwise."

"Then _look_."

She finally did what she was told and gasped.

She'd always known Hogwarts was beautiful, but up above the grounds it was _breathtaking_. It was something out of a painting, a true and genuine work of art.

"So this is your typical view during a Quidditch game?"

Haymitch shook his head. "There's too much going on during a game to notice how amazing this place is. Sometimes you forget, but it's nice to be reminded."

Effie shivered, and she told herself it was from the cold, and not because she missed the warmth of Haymitch's body. Still, she wrapped her arms around him, and relished in the essence of him.

He went around the castle a few times, Effie actually having the courage to take in the sights, and then he flew them to the Astronomy Tower. He was actually chivalrous enough to help her off his broom, and then the two of them stared down at the grounds.

"I am going to miss this place," Effie sighed.

"What you think you'll do when you leave?" asked Haymitch.

"Most likely work in the Ministry. You?"

"I'd like to be an Auror."

"You've got the brains and the skills. The work ethic? Not so much." He scowled at her but she sent him a dazzling smile that him know she was joking.

"Amusing," he stated dryly.

Effie laughed. They stayed quiet for awhile before she asked him if she could tell him a secret.

"Sure," shrugged Haymitch.

"If I really wanted to follow my dreams, I'd go to a Muggle college and become a fashion designer."

Haymitch was momentarily rendered speechless. "So why don't you?"

Effie didn't immediately answer. "I am hoping if I get a respectable job in the Ministry my parents might not be as disappointed in me."

"Your parents are _stupid_."

"There is no doubt in my mind about that, but they are still my parents, and I would like them to be proud of me about _something_."

"You spend too much time worrying about what people think about you."

"It's a curse," agreed Effie.

They continued to talk well into the night, sitting on the edge, their feet dangling. He transfigured his own sweatshirt into a large blanket that they shared, and pretty soon they were watching the sun come up.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and her scent of lavender and vanilla smacked him in the face. He thought he'd be used to it by now, but he wasn't. It was intoxicating, and made him feel like his head was full of wrackspurts.

 _Think positive thoughts_ , he told himself, but the only positive thought he kept thinking about was kissing her.

"What are you thinking, Haymitch?" asked Effie, and he wondered if she knew Occlumency.

"Kissing you," he heard himself respond before he could think better of it.

She sat up and looked at him, only mildly surprised. He took his finger and brushed a strand of hair from her face, and then leaned in gently and kissed her.

He wasn't gentle in a lot of things, but Effie Trinket could make him gentle.

She blushed prettily, gave him a dazzling smile, and then got up. "I should go," she said. "I will see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Yah, Princess," said Haymitch softly.

She disappeared, swooning all the way to her room.

She wasn't too keen on getting a broom, but she was certainly flying high.


	207. Insomnia

_"If there's a need for a prompt, how about one set late at night with them both having to be awake, due to nightmares, so they decide to watch a horror movie marathon? (Something horrific and fictional to distract from horrific and non fictional.) –BlackCat46_

 _I thought I'd love this one. I hated it. I'm gonna try and write it again LOL because I like to do my prompts justice..._

 **INSOMNIA**

 **Rated T**

He shifted again, trying to get comfortable, but he knew it was to no avail.

"Haymitch," sighed Effie.

"I know. I'm sorry," Haymitch said, turning to face her. "I don't think I can do this, Effie."

She sighed again and reached out to him, caressing his cheek.

"Yes you can. Maybe not tonight, right at this moment, but you _can_ do this. You're Haymitch Abernathy. You can do anything."

He had already proven that, when he led the second war. He'd also proven it by giving up the bottle, as difficult as it was. Now they were working on a new project: changing his sleeping pattern. She wanted him to start sleeping in the bed with her, but they had opposite sleeping schedules: she slept during the night while he tended to stay up until the sun had risen.

"I can't do it tonight, then," he said.

He _had_ done it. He'd slept for a couple of hours—both of them had—but then he'd woken up, a scream caught in his throat, and he was grasping around for a knife he'd finally had the courage to lock away.

"It's okay," said Effie softly. "How about I make you some warm tea?"

"You don't have to. I'm not a bloody child who needs taking care of."

She stayed quiet, refusing to cringe at his harsh tone. He was sleep deprived and irritated. He wasn't angry at her, she reminded herself. She couldn't take it personally.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. What I really shoulda said was that I'm not your responsibility, and that you need your rest. Don't worry about me okay?" His voice was softer but it felt like he'd hit her.

"That's a horrible thing to say," stated Effie. "I _care_ about you, Haymitch. It's only natural to worry about you. If you had any idea how much you've helped me over this past year—"

"I helped you get better because it was my fault you got taken in the first place," he spat. "It wasn't your fault."

"And you being Reaped was yours?" shot back Effie.

He took a calming breath. If he wasn't careful he'd relapse.

"You know I can hardly sleep without you, so if you're getting up, then so am I."

Haymitch shook his head. She was impossibly stubborn. "Maybe we can find a movie on television or something."

She gave him a soft smile and they both got out of bed.

It didn't take her long for her to realize it was going to be a _long_ night. The only thing that seemed to be on this late into the night was some horror movie called _Paranormal Activity_. Effie was convinced that they were never going to sleep again, and she wasn't too keen on watching something like that, because they'd all seen enough horror in their day, only the movie ended up being incredibly cheesy and had Haymitch complaining the entire time until Effie snapped at him.

"Just watch the movie, will you? It's all that's on television. Deal with it."

"You can always go upstairs and go back to sleep," Haymitch snapped back, and she stiffened against him. He sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I didn't mean that."

Effie sighed and looked up at him. "Just make love to me, Haymitch."

He froze. Literally froze. His mouth dropped open, his eyes widened. He looked like he'd just been sucker punched.

"We've skirted along this line for _ages_ , Haymitch, and I know we've never done anything, but I certainly want to, and you can't tell me you don't want to either. You've wanted to since I was your Escort, back when it was unacceptable, and I'm not that woman anymore, and if you honestly think I'm _blind_ and don't see the way you look at me, you're an _idiot_. Besides, sex is a great way to go put someone to sleep. You know…" stated Effie slyly, "If they're _good_ at it."

"You're a bloody _fucking_ tease, you know that?"

Yet he captured his mouth to hers almost instantly, Effie letting out a guttural moan that had him hardening. _That_ was a thrilling sound if he'd ever heard one. He decided that he wasn't at all surprised that it was so easy to do this with her, because they _had_ been toeing on this line for _forever_.

He found they battled for domination, and it made for damned good sex. He won out this round, though there would be plenty she won. He heard himself making noises he never thought he would or could, but he was too far gone to be embarrassed.

 _She_ was making a few inhuman noises herself.

Afterwards, breathless, spent, and satisfied, he decided that he'd found the cure to insomnia.

It was his last waking thought for the night.


	208. Over His Dead Body

_This is how Haymitch decided to take Effie to 13._

 **OVER HIS DEAD BODY**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch paced the Penthouse, cursing the elevator every few seconds for not making her appear. What was _taking_ her so long? She was never late. Ever. If something had happened to her…. If the Peacekeepers had hurt her in anyway…. He half wished he could get his hands on Cinna. The nerve of that man, making Katniss' dress into a Mockingjay. It was risky, and bloody foolish, and now Cinna would probably be dead in a few hours, and his Escort might be—

Before he could finish that thought the elevator doors swung open.

He looked at the figure exiting out of the elevator and nearly went weak in the knees with relief. He needed a fucking drink.

"You're late," he said coldly, because she had kept him waiting, and he didn't have _time_ to be worried about Effie Trinket.

She ignored him as she approached him and his breath caught in his throat when her lips caressed his, her arms around his neck. He responded without even meaning to, wrapping his arms around her waist and picking her up.

"I'm okay," whispered Effie.

"You scared the shit outta me," he told her, kissing her neck.

"I was questioned," said Effie. "They only just released me."

Haymitch's heart stopped.

"Did they—"

"No. They never touched me. A woman interviewed me, alone. She hooked me up to a lie detector machine, but I passed with flying colors. I know how to lie."

"Effie," he breathed.

"I promise it's fine. They weren't even asking the right questions. All they cared about was last night. They wanted to know if I knew about it. They didn't even ask me anything about you."

"Are you sure it's safe—"

"Of course I'm sure," said Effie, slightly offended. "Besides, we both know if they bugged me, with Beetee's interference, we're fine."

"This was stupid," he scowled, walking away from her and heading towards the bar. "We never should have involved you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch. I'd have killed you myself if you'd hidden this from me."

"I'd have preferred that than the alternative." He poured himself a drink, swallowing its contents. It instantly calmed him, and made him more rational. He knew what he had to do. He just needed to get in touch with Plutarch.

"Stop worrying about me," Effie said when she walked up to him. "I'm fine."

"You're in danger."

"I am not. Everybody was questioned, Haymitch."

He just shook his head, taking another drink. She was brilliant, she was, but she still had a faithful love for the Capitol that made her think she'd be safe. The Capitol would kill her by association, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

She gently grabbed the glass and placed it on the table. She grabbed his hand and headed off towards her bedroom.

Inside her clothes magically disappeared, as did his, and he was all over her. He moved in and out of her with a ferocity he'd never used before. He was holding her a little tighter, kissing her a little harder, and a little longer, and when they finished he pulled her to him.

"We should get ready. The Games are going to start any minute now."

"One more minute," he mumbled against her neck.

She gave him ten, and then they were up, getting dressed. He was in a much better mood, and she attributed it what they'd just done, but it wasn't that.

He had a plan.

He was bringing Effie to 13. She wouldn't be welcomed, but she'd be safe.

Nobody would touch Effie.

They'd have to kill him first.


	209. More Dribble Drabble

_More random drabbles that were in my head but didn't make it to full fledged stories._

 **BECOMING HIS**

 **Rated K**

Haymitch, Effie, Finnick, Johanna, and Chaff all stumbled onto the elevator, laughing. When they realized the doors remained open because no one had pushed a certain floor it forced them all to start laughing again.

Haymitch attempted to push the button that would get them to their Penthouse, but he failed miserably. Effie clucked her tongue, both amused judgmental at how sluggish her Mentor was.

She walked the few feet to the other side of the elevator and pushed the number 12.

"You walk well for a woman in heels who's drunk outta her mind," Haymitch exclaimed. Nobody missed the way he undressed her with her eyes and Effie tried tremendously not to blush.

He was always publically affectionate when he was too drunk.

"Yes, well I was twenty-one not too long ago." Johanna rolled his eyes while Finnick laughed.

"Long enough ago," muttered Haymitch. Everyone snickered and Effie narrowed her eyes at Haymitch.

"Rude," she hissed.

"You still look twenty-one to me, Effie," Finnick said, his eyes twinkling.

Effie beamed. "That's why you're my favorite."

"You're a kiss ass," Haymitch accused.

"And you're jealous," grinned Finnick.

"I have nothin' to be jealous of. Effie likes _me_ more, boy, and don't forget it." He was clearly drunk and Finnick was clearly having a good time teasing Haymitch. Effie thought she could get in on it figuring he accused her of looking old.

"Finnick is certainly more likeable," Effie told them. Haymitch glared at her and she smiled sweetly.

"Yah right," snarled Johanna. "There's no one in the elevator you like more than Haymitch. In fact I'll take that one farther and state there's no one in all of Panem."

"Haymitch is the second least likeable person in this elevator, _after_ you," Effie retorted.

"I'm standing _right here_ ," mumbled Haymitch. Effie fell into a fit of giggles and Finnick followed. Haymitch sauntered over to Effie. "You're supposed to like _me_ best."

Effie smiled at Haymitch. "I do, trust me." Her voice was soft but her eyes still darted to the rest of the group in the corner.

"No you don't, you like Finnick."

"Oh, please," scoffed Effie. Haymitch could be _such_ a child sometimes. "I will prove it to you later on, _if_ you behave."

He didn't seem sober enough to behave though. He just pushed her against the elevator, his hands on her waist. The rest of the elevator immediately got quiet.

"Okay, you have had quite enough," Effie stated, looking at the group for help.

"Am I in trouble?" whispered Haymitch in her ear.

"Absolutely," she told him as Chaff pulled him away.

At that moment their elevator door opened. Haymitch turned to Finnick. "I just wanted you to know she's _mine_."

"Is she now?" Chaff's eyes glittered with mirth.

"I am no ones," disagreed Effie, stepping off.

"Except maybe the Capitol's," Johanna stated. Effie stiffened and Haymitch turned to her.

"Low blow," stated Finnick darkly. He glanced at Effie, who'd stilled. "She didn't mean it it, Effie. Besides, everyone in here knows you're mine. Go ahead and tell them."

Haymitch growled and pulled Effie towards him, burying his face in her neck. She would have told him off only he pressed his lips to her neck, making her shiver.

"I saw that," accused Chaff. "I _saw that_."

"You saw nothing," Effie snapped. She turned around to face Haymitch. "I would trust you to keep your hands to yourself if you value them."

"Tell them I'm yours," he whined, and Effie stepped back.

"What?"

Effie's reaction seemed to sober him up more than anything else. His eyes widened slightly and he looked around at all of them.

"Welp, party's over," exclaimed Johanna, recognizing the look on Haymitch's face. "Not that I know why. Well all know you got a thing for your Escort, Haymitch." Johanna jutted the button and the elevator door closed.

"You have had way too much to drink tonight," she told him.

"So I let slip how I feel to all my friends," shrugged Haymitch.

"Well it'd have been nice if you'd told _me_ first."

He shrugged again, heading to the bar. "I thought I'd made it clear when I asked you to break up with Seneca."

"You did not _ask_ me."

Haymitch stared at her. "Exactly."

Effie flushed. "Am I yours, Haymitch?" asked Effie softly.

"Well you're certainly not anybody else's," Haymitch stated. "Especially _Finnick's_."

"I do love you jealous," purred Effie, walking up to him. She took away his drink and pulled him towards her.

Maybe one days she wouldn't have to add 'jealous' at the end of that phrase.

* * *

 **OF DRINKING, COMPARISONS, AND REASSURANCES**

 **Rated M for language**

Johanna was drunk.

 _Clearly_.

But that wasn't the problem. Johanna was always drunk, probably as much as Chaff and Haymitch.

The issue was that Johanna was _all over Haymitch_.

An even bigger problem, in Effie Trinket's opinion, was that Haymitch was _letting_ her fawn all over him.

It was irritating and annoying, and Haymitch _knew_ it would irritate and annoy her, yet he was still allowing Johanna to behave in such a way.

This night was _very_ important, they'd already gotten _two_ Sponsors for this year and they might actually be able to seal the deal tonight if Haymitch was on his best behavior.

That officially became impossible the minute Johanna's hands wandered up Haymitch's thigh.

Effie only saw red. She made her way through the crowd, her face set, and approached the two of them. Haymitch just smirked and she _knew_ – he was only trying to make her jealous – jealousy made her _crazy_ in the bedroom, as it did with him. He was probably paying her back for dancing with Rhono Breadwinner earlier.

"Get up," Effie said coldly. She was staring at Haymitch and he knew her well enough to not argue in this case. Sighing heavily he shot back the rest of his drink, slammed it on top of the bar, and stood up. "Go to the Penthouse."

He cast her another smirk and was gone. Chaff stood up, as did Finnick.

"He was jus' tryna get a reaction outta you, Trinket," said Chaff, a smile on his own face.

"I don't like how he went about it." Her voice still had a slight edge to it.

"You take all the fun outta everything," slurred Johanna. "You don't _own_ Haymitch."

"Shut up, Johanna," Effie snapped, and both Finnick and Chaff looked on in surprise.

"Don't tell me to shut up. Haymitch can do what – or _who_ – ever he wants. If I wanna screw him I can, and you can't stop me."

"He is much too old for you," said Finnick.

"Fuck off," Johanna told him. She fixed her eyes on Effie. "Back to you, bitch. You're nothing more than a whore, you don't own Haymitch, _if_ he sleeps with you it's because you're convenient, so don't get your panties in a twist. If Haymtich wants me, he can have me."

"He wouldn't look twice at you, Johanna, now you are making quite the fool of yourself—"

" _If_ Haymitch has ever done anything with you, it is only because you look like Maysilee."

Chaff stiffened, Finnick gasped, and Effie stilled. Then she slapped Johanna, hard and fast, and Finnick immediately stepped in, pulling Effie away. Johanna had gotten up but Chaff grabbed her, roughly, his own eyes dark.

By the time Effie got on the elevator Finnick was holding her close, trying to get her to calm down.

Haymitch was on the couch, nursing another drink, but stood up when he saw Finnick and Effie. Finnick sent him a look and Haymitch stayed put. A few minutes later he heard Effie's shower running, and then Finnick was in front of him.

"What happened?" asked Haymitch.

"Jo made a pretty… _hurtful_ comment to Effie."

Haymitch frowned. "Effie hardly ever lets Jo get under her skin. She's a bitch, Effie's learned that over the years. My Escort's got thick skin."

Finnick grimaced. "Effie slapped her." Haymitch just stared at Finnick. "She said… don't flip out, Haymitch, for real, because we all know you."

" _Spill it_ ," spat Haymitch.

Finnick took a deep breath. "She said that if you ever touched Effie… it was only because… she reminded you of Maysilee."

Haymitch just stood there, his mouth hanging open. " _Jo_ said that?" Finnick nodded, and Haymitch's eyes flashed. "Where is she?"

"Haymitch—"

" _Where_?"

Finnick sighed. "I don't know. Chaff grabbed her and I bought Effie here." Haymitch walked around Finnick and headed towards the elevator. "Haymitch, don't."

"Fuck off, Finnick."

"You should comfort Effie tonight, and worry about Jo tomorrow. You'll be calmer."

"Don't talk to me about _calm_."

"We've all said some pretty fucked up things to each other when we're drunk, Haymitch."

"Oh fuck _that_ , Finnick." He made to move passed him but Finnick grabbed him. Haymitch pushed Finnick back. "Don't touch me again."

"This is why you need to stay here tonight. You're pissed and you'll do something you'll regret tomorrow. Go to Effie, I think she needs reassurance that what Jo said isn't true." Haymitch snarled at Finnick. "Haymitch."

The two of them struggled for a few minutes until Haymitch pushed Finnick off of him. The two of them were breathing hard, staring daggers at each other. Finally Haymitch took a deep breath.

"I'm not mad at you," he said, and it was almost like he was trying to convince both of them. "I'm not. Tell Jo to thank you for being such a good friend."

Finnick nodded. "Tell Effie I'm sorry."

Haymitch nodded and Finnick left. He took a shaky breath and made his way to Effie's room. He could still hear the shower running. Showers calmed her, he knew.

He got undressed and waited for her, pouring her a glass of wine for when she got out the shower. He sipped on some of her harder stuff while he waited.

She gasped when she came out of the bathroom, her bathrobe tied around her. Her hair was still pinned up and dry, her face naked.

She just stared at him for several minutes. He beckoned for her to come over. She did, tentatively, and she slipped out of her robe, unpinned her hair, and slid into bed next to him.

They didn't _sleep_ together often, but she needed it tonight, so Haymitch handed her the glass of wine and let her rest her head on her shoulder.

"You don't remind me of her," Haymitch assured her. "That's not why we…. I mean the first time we did this I didn't even know your real hair color was blonde."

She seemed to relax at that statement.

"She wants you, and I hate it," declared Effie.

Haymitch sighed. "Jo's a horny drunk, she wants _everybody_ when she's had that much to drink. I don't like her like that, and I'm not interested."

"You don't like _me_ like that," Effie reminded him. "And you are not interested in me."

"That's not true," said Haymitch, not looking at her. Instead he looked down at his glass. He could feel Effie looking at him. "Come on, Princess, don't make me say it. I thought you understood how I felt when I punched your last boyfriend."

Effie cracked a smile at the memory. "I suppose we are even now figuring I slapped Johanna."

"Johanna is not my girlfriend. If she's even my _friend_ is debatable right now. But I don't wanna talk about her." Now he looked at her. "Are you good?"

"I will feel much better if you were on top of me."

Haymitch snorted. "I suppose you want me to do all the work."

"It would be a nice change of pace," purred Effie.

Haymitch put his drink aside and climbed on top of her.

* * *

 **WALK THAT WALK**

 **Rated M**

Effie Trinket had a _walk_. He wasn't sure how she did it, but she walked better than anyone he knew. It didn't matter if she was walking on stage or slicing and dicing her way through a crowd in the middle of a Capitol party.

It didn't matter how high her heels were, she never faltered, missed a step, tripped, slid…. It was nothing for her to step out in skyscrapers and walk that walk of hers.

He spent _years_ admiring that walk, even he didn't mean to. He could remember several occasions where the mail Tribute annoyed him so he would end their training session early. He'd somehow make his way to Effie's session and watch her teach the female Tribute how to walk, a book on top of her ridiculous wig, one hand out, her hips swaying.

Haymitch watched her as she made her rounds, a drink in his hand, his eyes low. She was dressed as ridiculous as usual, but he couldn't help but notice the way her hips swayed.

She had legs for days, and they weren't just long and slender but they were muscular and toned.

 _Soft_.

"You're drooling," Chaff said, and Haymitch started, nearly spilling his drink. He scowled as Chaff laughed. "Don't worry, I don't blame you. Your Escort is _hot_ and she's got a great ass."

"Shut up," snapped Haymitch.

"What? You were just checking her out, why can't I?"

"I wasn't _checking her out_." Haymitch took a sip of his drink, his eyes darting back to his Escort. "I was wondering how the hell she walked so well in those heels."

"Well she's been walking in them for ages," Johanna said. "What is she, pushing forty?"

"In Effie's mind she's still twenty-one," said Finnick, taking a sip of his own drink. "But if anyone should know how to walk in heels, it's Effie. I mean she modeled for almost ten years."

Haymitch jerked. " _What_?"

"What, you didn't know?" Seeder chimed in. "Effie's probably one of the most famous models in the history of Panem. She was popular, pretty, and made a ton of money."

"She had the biggest contract in the history of Panem before she gave it all up a few years after becoming your Escort," said Finnick.

Haymitch frowned. "How do _you_ know that?"

Finnick shrugged casually. "How do you _not_ know that?"

"It's a fair question," Johanna stated. "I don't even like your Escort and even _I_ know that she's kinda a big deal."

"She's way more than a big deal," said Chaff.

Seeder nodded. "Effie's the darling of the Capitol. I can only imagine where she'd be now if she had quit being your Escort and actually married Seneca."

Haymitch gaped. "She was gonna marry Seneca?"

"Yah," shrugged Seeder.

"No," Finnick disagreed. "She never loved Seneca, and Effie's not the type to marry someone because it's expected of her. People wanted her with Seneca and she gave into it for awhile, but she was never going to go through with the wedding."

"Aw, did she tell you that during pillow talk?" asked Johanna nastily.

Finnick flushed. "Effie's _never_ touched me, you know that."

"I don't know that. Trinket's a whore."

"She's not either," said Haymitch darkly, and they all turned to look at him. "What? She's not. At least not by your standards, Jo. You're half Effie's age and you've _definitely_ done more men than her."

"That's because she's too busy screwing _you_ ," Johanna accused.

"Is that what you tell yourself when I ignore your advances?"

"Fuck you, Haymitch."

"Once again, no thank you." Chaff snickered and Haymitch spared him a glance. He sat his glass down and sauntered off towards the Penthouse.

When Effie came in an hour later she went into his room. He was still up, one leg propped up on the bed, his tie loosened, a drink in his hand.

"You left earlier than usual," claimed Effie.

"Wasn't in the mood tonight," he told her, taking a drink.

She smiled. "Are you ever?" Haymitch shrugged. "What's the matter?

"Are you gonna get back with Seneca now that he's been made Gamekeeper?"

Effie rolled her eyes and started taking off her wig. "Don't be silly. He's been Gamekeeper for an entire year, if I wanted to get back with him, I'd have already done so." She unpinned her hair and turned to look at him. "Don't be jealous, Darling, I am not interested in Seneca."

"You were once. Didn't even tell me you were engaged to him. I had to find out from Finnick. Tell me, were you screwing him while you were screwing me?"

"You and I were not exclusive when I got with Seneca, we had just had that one time the year before and I didn't think… I didn't _know_ it'd happen again. I broke up with Seneca long before our affair got serious."

She slipped off her heels, shrinking several inches, and started unzipping her dress from the back.

She walked to the bed, her hips still swaying, her walk still graceful, and climbed on top of the bed in her bra and panties, sliding on top of him and taking away his drink.

He forgot to be annoyed when she pressed her body into his, but he vowed that after she wrapped her long legs around him, he'd have to make her talk that talk.

She seemed to already have the walking part down.


	210. Growing Back Together

_THE WALKING DEAD SPOILERS… PLEASE SKIP DOWN TO THE STORY IF YOU DON'T WANT TO RUIN ANYTHING FOR YOURSELF—_ _ **ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE COMICS.**_

 _Soooo guys: My multi-fic chapter is going GREAT… BUT it's also making me REALLY attached to these characters, particularly Richonne. Now we all know Neagan will make his appearance in the season finale… and guys we all know TWD gives zero fucks about killing off our great characters…. I've grown way too attached for me to find out that Michonne is going to die…. Like I will flip shit. I know Neagan is supposed to kill Glenn, but I don't know, the show has already changed so much. I've also heard that Daryl or Judith might be killed off as well, especially because in the comics Jesus and Rick are BFFs and right now that's what Daryl and Rick are… wouldn't it make sense that in order for Jesus and Rick to follow the comics that Daryl would have to be taken care of?_

 _I'm saying all this to say that writing fan fic tends to make me fall in love with characters, and I'll be so depressed if I write this great multi-chap fan fic only for Michonne to die, which I've read is a possibility because Rick needs to lose someone in order to go bat shit crazy. I will be DEVESTATED. I don't know if I can do this for six weeks. Any theories on who's gonna get Lucilled in the season finale?_

 _Now back to your regular Hayffie scheduled programs._

 **GROWING BACK TOGETHER**

 **Rated M**

She'd shown up on his doorstep in the middle of summer, two years after the war, with a single suitcase and vacant eyes already swimming with tears. He'd moved aside without a word and she stepped into his home, not even mentioning the cluttered mess of bottles and stains and dirty dishes and broken furniture.

He wasn't sure what to expect, but six months of tears and screams and silence wasn't what he had anticipated. She wasn't _Effie_ , and Haymitch didn't know how to handle it, so after three months he realized that in order to help her he had to first help himself.

The withdrawals were painful, but they helped bring her around.

It took Effie catching Haymitch throwing up for her to sort of snap out of it. She'd been like a zombie before that, but at seeing him hunched over the sink, throwing up his guts, she'd rushed to his side, and from that moment she at least cared about him for an hour or so before she was off in that cell again, staring out of the window.

It wasn't until she started sneaking into his bed that things _really_ started to change. Her nightmares plagued her every single night, and they didn't help his. Without the liquor to calm his nerves the nightmares sent him over the edge, and he found himself wishing for a bottle more than once.

She'd heard his nightmares – which were magnified due to hers – and she'd come in and wrap her arms around him until he'd stopped shouting. Somehow every time he woke up they'd be entangled around each other, his knife on the floor.

She didn't come often. Only when the nightmares were really bad. He'd taken to doing the same thing with her. Sometimes he'd walk into his guestroom and get into bed, holding her until her screams turned to whimpers.

Some of those nights they spent time talking to each other, and this is where he realized he was a goner. He'd done a good job of never really thinking about Effie, until she'd shocked him by being in on the Rebellion. He'd noticed things over the years, but he had always told himself he was hallucinating, imagining things.

And then he caught her with Portia and Cinna, bent over a table, designing a dress that would erupt in flames. For once he wasn't drinking as much and suddenly he could see Effie Trinket for everything she was—yet he still found himself unable to acknowledge who she _wasn't_.

Yet here they were, two years after the rebellion, and he realized how _incredible_ she was, and why had he wasted so many years by acting as if she were invisible? He'd spent years disliking her, and then being indifferent to her existence, and then he was _falling for her_ , which was a slap in the face, to not only be attracted to a Capitol but to genuinely like one.

And then it had all gone to shit when she'd gotten taken. She was never supposed to join them in 13 – they swore she was safer in the Capitol, and he had believed them, had believed _her_ — yet they had taken her, and it had taken him months to even realize she was missing.

He didn't know the woman he found battered, bruised, and broken in that cell. That woman was too weak to travel back to 12 with him, and she had promised him that she'd be okay, that she'd join him in a few months' time, and they'd talk every day up until then.

Only she never called.

Never. Not once.

Haymitch had foolishly hoped that Effie would bring Peeta back, only she hadn't, and he ignored the way his heart dropped at the sight of seeing Peeta in Katniss' front yard planting primroses, Effie nowhere in sight. He just drank more until the pain stopped.

Now he was lying next to her, talking to her, comforting her, and it didn't take long for him to start falling for her again. He found that though he didn't _like_ battered, bruised, and broken Effie, he loved her just the same.

He wanted her to get better, only he wasn't sure how to help her. There were many nights, many times that he wanted to crawl into a bottle and drown himself in his misery. He wasn't used to seeing Effie like this. Instead he slid into her bed – and when it had become _her_ bed was beyond him – until she calmed down, and he allowed her to crawl into his bed.

They helped each other.

Not in the way he wanted to…. He could think of a few ways to put them out of their misery, and they all involved him on top of her or her on top of him… or both. He'd never really thought of Effie that way until he found himself missing her or yearning for her whenever she didn't come into his room. The fact that half those times she snuck into his room – and it wasn't only on nights _he_ had nightmares – he ended up watching her sleep had him realizing how he felt. His body responding to her touches certainly didn't help either.

He'd been attracted to her for as long as he could remember. Effie Trinket had always been hot, since she'd waltzed into his house at eighteen years old with her rules and schedules and clipboard and heels and A-line dresses—those were what had been in style then. But she'd been Capitol since the beginning of time, until he'd noticed a distinct change in her. _Something_ was different, though he'd never known what it was, and he found himself in awe to see her with Cinna and Portia.

Even then he hadn't been thinking about sleeping with her. Who had _time_ to think like that with everything going on? But he _liked_ her, that was for sure, and that shocked him to his core, but before he could really embrace it he was in 13 and she was dying in a Capitol cell.

A few months with her and he realized he still felt the same way. He had no idea if the sexual tension was only in his head or not. Sometimes he _thought_ she felt the same way, but she was in and out of it so much it was hard to tell. He just tried his best to keep his emotions under control.

Until that one day in September.

He'd woken up to find her no longer in his bed. She'd snuck into his room and practically crawled on top of him to comfort him with a nightmare. He'd told her not to _do_ that, that it was dangerous, but did she ever fucking listen? _No_. He started locking away his knife, though his hands were dangerous enough, but his body was starting to know her. He knew the feel of her skin, her scent, the way she moved. Friend, not foe.

She could calm him down.

She'd wait until he'd calmed down and then bury her face into his chest, her tiny arms wrapped around him, and he just breathed her in until he was able to think again. He was mentally and physically exhausted but he let the sounds of her soft snores lull him back to sleep.

Normally they'd wake up together. She hadn't quite mastered how to untangle herself from around him when she woke up, so she always forced him to wake up, always flashing a sheepish smile, but he didn't care because she was finally _smiling._ This time he'd been too tired to wake up and hadn't realized she was gone until he smelled food downstairs.

He sat up, his breathing hard, and then rushed downstairs to find Effie in the kitchen, clearly showered, her hair pinned up, and dressed in a robe. She was in front of the stove, burning what was clearly supposed to be eggs.

" _What_ are you doing?" panted Haymitch.

She frowned at him. "I was _trying_ to make breakfast," she stated, a faint blush turning up on her cheeks.

"But you're a _lousy_ cook."

Her shoulders hunched. "I know. I was just trying to do something nice for you, for… _helping_ me these past few months."

"So you decided to make me breakfast?" His mouth twitched as he turned off the stove and picked up the skillet. _This_ wasn't edible, he decided. "That's more like a punishment, Princess."

She looked at him. "You are just as rude as I remember you," she stated, but her own mouth was now upturned. "You're insufferable."

"You wanna reward me for being nice? Smile more. Get outta bed every day. _Don't_ cook me breakfast, okay?"

She blinked at him. "Well _you're_ no master chef either."

"No I'm not. That's why the boy cooks for us, yah?"

Effie looked defeated. "Yes," she sighed, moving aside, head downcast. She made to walk passed him but he stopped her.

"Effie," said Haymitch, gently grabbing her arm. He pulled her back to him and placed her in front of him. Before he lost his nerve he cupped her cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his heart hammering.

She responded immediately, and he found himself quite thrilled that she did so.

"Thank you for trying," he told her softly, and then he was gone, throwing away the eggs and heading to the sink to hide the fact that he was _relieved_ that he hadn't been slapped.

Maybe she felt the same way.

When she came back downstairs she had on a pair of leggings and an oversized pink shirt. Her hair was… fluffy was the only word he could think of, its blonde trusses falling down to her shoulders.

"Peeta made us some donuts," Haymitch stated, flipping through the television. He'd never watched it before her arrival, but it was something that relaxed her and kept him calm. At first he encouraged her to read, only seeing her hands shaking didn't help him, so eventually they started watching television together.

She grabbed the tray of donuts and walked over to the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. She was relaxed today, he noted, and he felt the tension in his body dissolve. Today might actually be a good day. They were few and far between, but the fact that it'd started with her trying to make breakfast was the best sign yet.

"I'm gonna go shower," said Haymitch. "I'll be back in a little bit." In that little bit of time Effie had taken over the couch, a blanket wrapped around her. "This isn't very proper," he told her with a smirk.

"Oh, please. I cuddled on the couch all the time back in…." Her voice trailed off and she frowned.

"Don't think about that place," Haymitch told her firmly. "I try not to." He crouched down next to her, and she blinked rapidly. He grabbed her hand, gently caressing it. He found that that tended to bring her back.

Sometimes.

It amazed him the way she had taught him gentle.

"I'm okay," she stated. She sat up, shaking her head, and keeping the blanket wrapped around her, made a space for him. He sat down, keeping a close eye on her. Once one flashback was triggered, another one could easily come. "I'm okay," said Effie again, this time reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Don't worry about me."

But he _did_ worry about her, and as September turned into October one day he found Effie shivering on the couch. He felt like a mother hen, and was immediately annoyed at all her stupid Capitol clothes.

"After breakfast we'll go into Town and get you some winter wear," declared Haymitch. "In the meantime wear these." He threw a rolled up ball of socks at her, blinking in surprise when she caught them with ease. "I'm pretty sure they're clean. I've never worn them, at least." He shrugged and sat down, slightly amused at the small frown on Effie's face.

"These are horribly out of style. You must have gotten these when you first won."

It was so much like something his old Escort would say that he forgot to do anything other than snarl. She ignored him, though, and kept her frown, making quite the show of putting on an old pair of socks.

"Hey, you can freeze for all I care," snapped Haymitch.

"You are a horrible person if you let me freeze," Effie said to him. "You're already a horrible person for allowing your guest to stay in such conditions." She looked around, her eyes taking it all in. "I think I shall order you some things. Like an entire new _house_."

Haymitch snorted. "Fine. Just know Paylor has a limit on how much Victors can spend a day."

"Do not be ridiculous. I do not need _your_ money. Plutarch told me that Paylor made sure my funds were not touched. That is to say," Effie said, staring pointedly at Haymitch, " _you_ made sure my accounts weren't frozen, so I will not touch your Victor's winnings."

Haymitch got up, suddenly agitated. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, trying to keep his face from frowning up.

"Do you wanna stay here, Princess?" asked Haymitch.

He didn't look directly at her, but he noticed the way she stiffened slightly. She stood up and looked at him. "Do… you want me to leave?"

"That's not what I'm asking you."

Effie walked into the kitchen and he forced himself to stare at her. She was beautiful. More beautiful than he had imagined. He'd only seen her without her makeup once before this: on the last night of the Victory Tour, when they'd all stayed up extra late trying to figure out what was next for them. And then there was that time in her cell, but he didn't wanna think about _that_ Effie.

"I do not want to leave, Haymitch, but if I am a burden to you—"

"Shut up. You're no burden. If you wanna stay here, you can make this place whatever you want." She was going to regardless, he knew. "Just use my winnings. That's my only condition."

"I do not _need_ —"

"I don't care what you _need_. It's what I want. I'll give you the credit card information." And as if that settled the matter, he left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

* * *

When Haymitch heard glass breaking he bolted from the couch and rushed upstairs to the guest bedroom. He barged in and it only took one sweeping look to realize that Effie wasn't in the room. He jetted to the bathroom and opened the door, only to find Effie pounding on the vanity mirror, sobbing.

He could only stare as he took in the wig and makeup and fancy Capitol dress.

"Effie," he finally breathed. "What's goin' on?"

"I hate her, Haymitch. I don't want to be her. Please don't make me be her anymore."

"You're not," stated Haymitch, walking up to her. Her hands were bloody, her makeup smeared, her wig askew. Her dress was much too big as she still hadn't gained back all that much weight from being locked up in that cell.

"What am I supposed to do? We're supposed to go into Town but I don't know what to wear. I don't know how to look. I _hate_ myself." She sunk to the floor and he just stood there, blinking, until _something_ told him to comfort her.

He bent down so that he was eyelevel with her. "You're not this Effie anymore, Princess, and you never have to be again. Take it off. Take all that shit off, and keep it off. When we go into Town you'll go as Effie. The _real_ Effie. Not the Capitol bitch who picked the names."

"It's not proper for me not to be made up."

"It's proper out here, Effie. You live in 12 now. Do you see Katniss walking around like the Mockingjay? Do you see any of the women who've moved to Victor's Village in heels or fancy dresses? We're simple here in 12. You wanna wear a little bit of makeup, fine. No one will stop you. But all of _that_?" Haymitch motioned to her face and dress. " _That_ doesn't belong to a Rebel."

* * *

"Nope. Too much," said Haymitch. She arched an eyebrow but he shook his head. Sighing she wiped some of the excess eye shadow off. He watched her like a hawk. "That's perfect. It's the right amount." She nodded, once, and then reached for the powder. "Absolutely not. Not ever, in fact. Just throw it away." Effie did as she was told and then reached for the lipstick. Haymitch rather thought the purple hue brought out the color of her eyes, but he'd be damned if he told her such a thing.

He was still having a hard time admitting to himself that he even noticed such a thing.

"Perfect," Haymitch declared. They'd spent an hour going over what was too much for 12's standards. He wanted Effie to be happy, and he understood her well enough to know that makeup and pretty dresses were a part of her. He didn't resent that. But the powder and the clown costumes—that was non-negotiable.

He approached her as she turned around. "Is this really okay?" asked Effie softly.

"I still prefer you without all the cake, but you look good," Haymitch responded. "You wanna wear makeup, wear this. Don't overdo it, Princess."

"Okay." Her voice was still soft, her skin still pale, and for the first time in a couple of weeks he'd thought about relapsing. He just kept picturing the blood and the tears and the way she sunk down to the floor.

He knew the nightmares would plague him tonight.

She turned to him, her blue eyes clearer than they had been for the past few months. Her eyes searched his for several moments. "I'm sorry," she finally blurted out. "I am terribly sorry. I suppose you think I'm silly."

"I don't think you're silly. I think you're tryin' to find yourself, and ain't shit wrong with that. There can be a balance, Effie. We jus' gotta find it."

She nodded. "Okay." She paused. "I do not think I have the energy to go shopping today. Can we try again tomorrow?"

He felt his heart drop to his stomach. "Okay, Princess."

"I'm okay," she assured him. "Maybe we can just… go downstairs and watch a movie? Or see the kids?"

"Peeta's still at the bakery. He won't be home until later. But we can watch a movie. I just gotta feed the geese first."

"I'll just wash this off of my face and I'll be down in a minute." Haymitch nodded and started to leave. "I'm sorry about your mirror," she called after him, and he rolled his eyes.

"We'll get a new one. It's no big deal."

* * *

They'd taken to cuddling on the couch to watch the chick flicks he'd fall asleep on. She initiated it first, claiming she was cold, so she practically crawled on top of him, her head on his chest, and damn it to hell and back if he couldn't even _breathe_. She'd wrapped herself around him and before long they were sleeping on that couch all the time.

By December she had redone most of the house. She'd told him that the house had good bones, it just needed a facelift, so she'd only changed a few things. It was three months of updating fixtures and painted walls and new furniture, but in the end the house looked amazing.

And to make things even better, she was back. Effie Trinket was back. She was just as annoying and uptight and insane about manners as ever, and he found himself relieved. They argued every other second, and half the time he felt like shoving her against a wall and kissing her or pinning her against it and fucking her brains out.

The only downside was she didn't leave the house, save for visiting the kids. She never did end up going into Town with him, and she left the winter shopping up to him. He couldn't decide if she were too embarrassed to be seen without her face, or if she was afraid people would hate her, but in the end he let her be. He wouldn't push her. At least not yet. He'd give her some more time to figure it out.

For now things were _good_.

They'd fallen asleep together on the couch last night. They'd been doing that a lot, and Haymitch suspected it was because they didn't have nightmares as badly as when they were together, and neither one of them knew how to invite the other into their bedroom. It was just easier, more convenient to fall asleep here.

The living room seemed to hold some sort of safety, some sort of line that wouldn't be crossed. They knew that they were getting to a point that if they shared a bed, they'd end up naked and breathless.

They'd already started kissing more. What started off as little pecks on the cheek started turning to lingering kisses on the lips. Then the touches started, soft and gentle but wandering and purposeful.

They didn't speak of these things during the day.

What happened in the dark stayed in the dark.

And then one morning he woke up to find Effie in his closet. He'd walked into his room, intent on showering, and he'd found half his closet on his bed. He immediately decided that he was too tired for this shit and went and showered. When he was done Effie was still nowhere to be found and the pile of clothes on his bed was higher.

" _What_ are you _doing_ , Princess?"

"Your clothes are outdated, and I have decided I can longer stand by and watch somebody I care about dress like this." She looked harassed, dressed in a pair of leggings, pink legwarmers that he'd special ordered for her – she had given him a quiet thank you, her eyes swimming with tears, and had worn them every single day since – and an oversized grey sweatshirt that was most definitely his.

She seemed to be wearing more of his old clothes that she liked than the ones he'd picked out for her.

"My clothes are fine, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"I have ordered you new things, so it is too late. These must be donated." She swiped at a piece of loose hair and he decided she'd never looked more beautiful.

He wanted to pounce on her, and with each day he found it harder and harder to resist her.

"I don't want new clothes," Haymitch finally said, trying to steer his thoughts away from the fact that she was definitely not wearing a bra, and it was clear she wasn't because his sweater dropped off her shoulders and there was no strap visible.

"Well Christmas is coming, so I got you a few presents. Deal with it."

"The Districts don't celebrate Christmas."

"Not yet. Paylor's thinking about reinstating it."

"How do _you_ know that?" challenged Haymitch.

"I have talked to her and Plutarch."

" _When_?"

" _That_ is neither here nor there." She hauled the latest mountain of clothes and tossed them on the bed, and then marched back into the closet. "I could use some help, you know."

Haymitch snorted. "I'm still on vacation from the renovation. This is your project. I might make you something to eat if you ask nicely."

Effie huffed and turned her back on him, calling out a word he hadn't heard in nearly six months: " _Rude_."

He nearly ripped off her clothes and took her in the closet.

He was just about to turn and leave when she called him.

"What's _this_?" asked Effie, and he could hear the amusement in her voice. He turned around and felt his heart relocate to his feet.

He marched up to her and snatched the shirt out of her hand, a dark scowl on his face. "Don't _touch_ this," he growled, and then he was fingering the dark grey plaid material, picturing a little boy with dark hair and simmering ember eyes. He could feel it, the desire for liquor licking its way through his veins. He moved Effie aside and grabbed the object that had been next to the plaid shirt.

It was a simple grey dress that she had worn every year on the day of the Reaping.

They were the only things he had of his brother and mother.

He'd never been able to salvage anything of Nova's.

"I'd like you to leave now," Haymitch stated coldly.

"Haymitch—"

"You don't understand my grief, Effie. Just leave me alone." He wasn't being fair, he knew, but that didn't stop the anger. Someone like _her_ had picked his name. She didn't _get_ it.

Effie slowly walked passed him, and had just reached the closet door when she blurted out, "I was forced to have an abortion once."

The words were the _last_ thing he'd ever expected to hear her say. He stared at her, wide eyed, and her forget-me-not blue eyes swam with tears.

"I hadn't meant to get pregnant. Seneca and I were careful…. I never wanted to have children. What would he be? A future Head Gamekeeper? Would she be a future Escort like her dear old mother?" She took a deep breath.

Haymitch could hear the bitterness in her voice as she talked.

"I had _cringed_ at the thought of having a child to bring into this world. Into _this_ world. I was so depressed, Haymitch. I was mortified. I was so embarrassed that I never even told Seneca. And then… one day… I realized that I could teach this child differently. _I_ was stuck in this Game, and I'd known enough about it then to know how horrible it truly was, but my child… my child could be a part of a world that was _different_."

She quieted for a minute, her eyes turning vacant as she told her story.

"I vowed that I'd raise a _Rebel_ , Haymitch." A loan tear fell and she wiped it away, almost angrily. "I put in my resignation and it was denied. I tried again, and still the same thing. I even went and talked directly to President Snow. I was with child, I told him, and it was stated in the contract that Escorts couldn't get pregnant. Do you know what he told me?"

She took another deep breath, and he could see her starting to shake. "He said, 'Exactly, Ms. Trinket. Escorts are not supposed to get pregnant. You are to abort it.' I was _devastated_ , Haymitch. I had just grown attached, and here he was, making me abort the child."

She shook her head, more tears spilling. "A few weeks passed. I kept _saying_ I'd schedule the appointment, only I never could. I knew what would happen if I didn't. Snow had made it abundantly clear. I was the only Escort in all of Panem that could control you, so I could not quit. I didn't have a choice. But I kept putting it off."

Haymitch felt something shift inside of him. Things he didn't know were inside of him started to break. He felt like he knew where this story was about to go, and he didn't want to deal with it. Not in the least.

"About a month after my meeting with Snow I went in for a routine checkup." Now her voice started to shake. "I woke up two days later, Haymitch, with no baby. I had been set up. That routine checkup turned into an abortion. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

"Effie." Haymitch walked up to her.

"You're not the only one who lost someone to Snow."

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?" By now Haymitch had her wrapped in his arms and was pulling her to him.

" _You_ never told me about _your_ family. I didn't tell anyone. Only Finnick knew." She sobbed into him.

"I'm sorry, Effie." He pressed his lips to her neck, suddenly hating Snow all over again. She whimpered, nearly strangling him with her embrace. He pressed another kiss to her temple, and then to her cheek. "I'm sorry."

He let her cry, and then when she finally calmed down he pushed her away and brushed her tears with his thumb. She took one final breath and let out a laugh.

"I just had another breakdown. I'm sure you are quite sick of them by now." She stood on shaky legs, and he knew her well enough to see the switch: the way she straightened herself, attempting to pull herself back together. He scowled. She could pull that stunt with kids, but not with him.

"It's okay that you're not fine," Haymitch stated. "Clearly I ain't all there either. I'm sorry I tried to push you away."

"You should push me away. I was your Escort. Someone just like me picked you name."

He stiffened. "Effie."

"What? It's _true_." She backed away from him. "I deserve what I got, I know, and I would understand if you hated me."

" _Hated_ you? I don't hate you. And you didn't deserve _shit_. You were a victim, just like me." And he was a fool for not seeing it.

"But you _should_ hate me," Effie stated.

He scowled. "Stop saying that."

"I'm just speaking the truth." It was a defense mechanism, he knew. She was shutting down.

"Got damn it Effie." Haymitch pulled her to him and pressed his mouth firmly to hers, allowing his body to get what it finally wanted. He kissed her hard, pushing her against the wall and making her gasp. "Does _this_ feel like I fucking _hate_ you?" He pressed himself into her making her gasp again.

"I don't know," she responded. "So hard to tell with all your clothes on."

It didn't take him long to realize that none of it was in his head. She was all over him just as much as he was all over her. His first thought was to fuck her right here in the closet, but then she mumbled out, "Bed," and he obliged by picking her up, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"Full," he told her, noting the clothes on the bed, and he was content on bending her over, but she had other ideas.

"My room," panted Effie, and he'd have done whatever she said if she kept that up. He couldn't make it to her room fast enough.

He didn't have time to think about it becoming _her_ room. In all truth and honesty, it was, because her things were everywhere, and she'd definitely made it into her own. He'd appreciate it as soon as he was finished devouring her.

He dropped her on the bed and then immediately climbed on top of her, and she was more than ready for him. Her lips were on his, her hands running through his hair. She moaned into his mouth, forcing him to harden.

He went for her shirt and she immediately pushed him away. "I'm ugly, Haymitch. The scars haven't all healed and—"

"Shut up _now_ before you piss me off." He went back to assaulting her mouth, taking off her shirt so he could assault her breasts. He was quite fascinated by them in fact. She cried out, arching her back, practically offering herself to him.

He figured it was too much foreplay and would rather get to it. He'd have the rest of his life to learn her body.

He knew his name had never sounded more beautiful than when she'd whined it out, practically begging him to enter her.

He did, immediately going blind, so he was thrusting without even really seeing her. All he knew was that she felt _amazing_ and fit him like a glove, and before he could control himself he was moving in and out of her with a ferocity that he wasn't sure she could match.

Though she certainly tried to keep up.

Her body responded to his and he responded to hers and they fought for domination and it was rough and hard and raw and filling and he was one thrust away from screaming like a girl because it felt _so fucking good_ to finally be inside of her.

When she groaned out his name he spilled himself into her and she followed behind him. He grunted out her name a few times as her hips plummeted into his, a scream on her lips, and then their bodies stilled.

Effie sighed and slid next to him, her breathing still heavy. "That was certainly years in the making," she stated, and he snorted. She turned and faced him, her hand caressing his face. "That was incredible."

"More than incredible," Haymitch said.

She gave him a soft smile and then she started to doze off. He watched her for a few minutes before he himself felt sleep consuming him.

It wasn't easy with them. It'd never be easy. But he couldn't say the kids seemed all that surprised when he asked her to marry him, even with the arguments and disagreements. He still craved the bottle and they both still had nightmares, and she tended to slip in and out of reality every now and then. But they _worked_ , and growing back together wasn't so difficult.


	211. Much Worse Games to Play

_Posted this as its own one-shot, but decided to add it here._

 **MUCH WORSE GAMES TO PLAY**

 **Rated K**

He slipped into her arms the minute Gale stopped dancing with her. Surprised gray eyes met amused gray ones, identical in every which way. He twirled her around for a few moments before speaking, and after a few minutes she relaxed.

By the end of the song she had let her guard down.

When the music slowed down, she looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Haymitch laughed at her discomfort.

His Katniss.

"Relax, Sweetheart," he told her, and she scowled at him. "Do you honestly still hate me? The boy is fine. Peeta is fine. Panem is fine."

He watched her as she glanced at him, the blond boy with the bread, _her_ blond boy with the bread, as he danced with Annie. When she turned back to him she offered him a small smile.

"You look good sober," said Katniss, admiring him in his cream colored suit, his haircut, though grayer than she remembered. He still wore his beard, which was flecked with gray, but he had a clean edge up.

"And I thought you had a hard time recognizing me this way," Haymitch said with a grin. Katniss laughed. "You look beautiful, Sweetheart." And she did. Dressed in one of Cinna's designs she wore a silk dress that matched the color of her eyes, hugging every curve. "You finally look like the woman the Games always tried to make you out to be."

"And you finally look like the hero the Revolution made _you_ out to be."

Haymitch laughed again. "I'm quite sorry it took me so long to get here."

They twirled together to the music for a little while longer.

"You're happy," she said matter-of-factly.

"I am," responded Haymitch with a nod. "How long before you allow yourself to be truly happy?"

"I'm getting there. With his help." Again, she glanced at Peeta.

"It kind of sucks, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"Loving someone you never thought you would or could."

"You don't know the half," muttered Katniss.

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Don't I?"

Katniss looked over Haymitch's shoulder and then stared back at her former Mentor.

"She's actually why I wanted to dance with you." Now it was Katniss' turn to arch an eyebrow. "I don't know if I ever really thanked you for granting Effie immunity."

Katniss stopped dancing and stared at Haymitch in shock. Instead of responding she started moving again, and they fell back into the rhythm of the music.

"I guess after all this time I wanted to ask you… why. Why'd you do it?"

Katniss paused for several moments, once again glancing at Effie in her cream colored dress, the wig gone. Who would have guessed Effie Trinket, former Capitol model and District 12 Escort, was a redhead underneath all the blonde wigs? Beautiful scarlet colored curls hung down her neck, clashing beautifully with her naturally pretty face, her cerulean eyes scintillating, even against the moon's reflection.

"I guess for the same reason we're all here, in 12, dressed like this, at you two's wedding: because I finally saw something _more_ in her. Underneath all the makeup and the extravagant outfits and the damn wigs and the proper talk and the lectures on manners… underneath all the bullshit was another person just like the rest of us: another victim of the Capitol and its Games." Haymitch nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now I get to ask you a question."

"Oh joy."

"When'd you fall for her?"

He thought about it for a minute, several different moments running through his mind: when she told them that they were a team, and gave him the gold bangle during the Quarter Quell; it could have been the countless nights they stayed up half the night watching Katniss and Peeta in the 74th Hunger Games. Maybe it was when she had walked into his house, bold as brass, the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell, turned on the music, and told him that she'd rather die than call his name. Or it could have been the first time he saw her without her wig and makeup. There were countless other moments. He couldn't pinpoint them all. What Haymitch did know is that at one point their clever banter and harsh insults no longer had as much heat.

"Probably around the same time you fell for Peeta," he finally answered with a grin.

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Touché."

"We have, what, a little less than a year until your wedding?"

"Give or take a few weeks." Katniss rested her head on Haymitch's shoulder. "How did they do this? How'd they make us love them?"

"I have no idea, Sweetheart."

"I can't believe you married Effie today."

"Me either." She stopped dancing and looked him in the eye. "You'll be good to her, right?"

He had a million snide remarks in response to that question, but the fierceness in her eyes reminded him how far they had all come. "Yah," he answered truthfully.

"Good," Katniss said. "Cus Effie deserves good. You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve her."

"And you could do way worse, Sweetheart," responded Haymitch with a smile.

At that moment Effie walked up to them, Peeta next to her.

The partners switched and Haymitch finally found himself dancing with his bride. He never thought he'd marry, particularly her, but this is what you did with people you'd never deserve, even if you did live a hundred lifetimes: you gave them what they wanted to make them happy.

He stared at her as they danced, remembering a similar night like this several years ago. It was his second time at the Victory Dinner, and he'd tried damn hard to drown out every single memory of it after his talk with Plutarch.

In retrospect _that_ might have been the moment he had fallen for her. At the very least he realized there was an attraction there. She had looked stunning, even with her stupid wig and her properly prim face.

But red had been her color, and she wore it beautifully that night, in a dress that hugged her in all the right places.

Somehow they ended up dancing together. How he'd never know. It was a little hazy. But when he'd walked up to her, much like he had done with Katniss a few short moments ago, her eyes had shined bright with surprise, and the smile she gave him forced him to blink in surprise.

"I'm surprised you're still standing," she had said, but with amusement, not judgment.

"I can say the same thing about you. How the hell do you walk in those things, let alone dance?" He glanced at the gold spikes on her feet.

"I've been walking in heels since I was nine years old, Haymitch. Not that that was that long ago."

He laughed for the first time in… well hell, a long time, and the fact that it was Effie making him laugh blindsided him.

Maybe he was drunker than he thought.

"I have news," Effie said, and the way she hesitated had him staring at her. "I was offered another District."

He stopped dancing and stared at her. "What?"

"I know. I had that same reaction. President Snow himself called me. I was so flustered I barely even knew what to say." He didn't understand the drop in his stomach. What he did know was that he was already convincing himself that this was for the best. And then she said, "I mean how the bloody hell do you tell the President of Panem no?"

Now he stared at her as if she had three heads. "Come again?"

She frowned for a moment. "Weren't… weren't you listening?"

"For once I actually was, but I must have misheard you. Did you say you turned _down_ your promotion?"

"Well of course I did! We have _Victors_ , Haymitch. And you… you showed me the brilliant man I had seen fighting for his life twenty-five years ago in the Quarter Quell. I've waited twenty years to see this side of you, and I finally have. Did the Capitol honestly think I'd allow myself to be whisked off to another District? Why I'd never."

Who the hell _was_ this woman?

"Now I do hope you'll stay on even though Katniss and Peeta are Mentors now. They're just as young as you were and let's face it… they are going to need help. I think between the four of us we have a real chance at keeping this new tradition alive."

"So… you're staying?" Haymitch said slowly, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why he was relieved. Happy, almost.

"Well of course I am. We're a team." She offered him a splendid smile, and it struck him for the first time how beautiful she was. She probably didn't even need all that damn cake on her face.

And then Plutarch came up to her and asked her to dance, and just like that, she was gone, and he didn't bother to ignore the ache in his heart at the loss of Effie Trinket. He just drank until it was filled, and by the time he realized it couldn't be filled, he needed several men to help him on the train back to 12.

It hadn't been his best moment, but none of that mattered now.

She wasn't the same Effie, and he wasn't the same Haymitch.

Now he had his bride, and they were still a team, even after all this time.

"What are you smirking at, Haymitch?" she asked him.

"Do you remember the first we ever danced together?" replied Haymitch.

"What, at the Victory Dinner?"

"You do remember."

"Of course I do. How could I forget? That night all my Capitol friends kept talking about how devilishly handsome Haymitch Abernathy was." She rolled her eyes.

"You never told me that."

"Yah, well, by the end of the night you were being carried to the train, weren't you?"

Haymitch laughed. "I've definitely had better moments."

They danced in silence for a few more moments when Effie asked, "What made you think of that night?"

"You were beautiful then, but I like you better now. I like you better without the wigs and all the makeup."

"Well I like you better sober," she responded cheekily.

"I can't believe I've been sober for five years."

"I'm sure it's a lot easier without bringing children to their untimely death every year."

"Don't," he said, a little more roughly than he'd intended. She faltered in her step but he pulled her close to him, her scent of lavender and vanilla filling his nostrils. "Not tonight. I don't want to think about any Games."

"That's unfortunate," said Effie with a small smile. "I certainly had a few games up my sleeve for tonight." He arched an eyebrow and the faint blush that made their way to her cheeks was all the answer he needed.

"Well, those are okay to think about," Haymitch grinned.

"Of course they are," laughed Effie.

After all, there were much worse Games to play.


	212. A Thousand Kisses From You

SOOOO #OscarsSoWhite aired last night, which I didnt really care about. I just wanted to see Chris Rock's opening monologue and see if my beloved Leonardo Dicaprio WOULD FINALLY WIN OR NAH... AND HE DID! I almost missed it b/c I was re-watching TWD but I turned it just in the nick of time and I SCREAMED at my TV. I LOVE that man, like frfr. #JackAndRoseForever. Oh and TWD? I'm not prepared man, NOT PREPARED.

Annnnnywayyyy on to the day's prompt:

" _Hello there! Now that Hayffie is movie canon, what about a "5 times they kissed" type of thing and what they meant in different places throughout the movie-verse, leading up to this possible goodbye?" Sometimes Guests have the BEST ideas, and I can't even tell them! Grrr LOL but LOVED this prompt! Title taken from Luther Vandross' 'Never Too Much'_

 **A THOUSAND KISSES FROM YOU**

 **Rated T**

Effie slipped into Haymitch's room, silent as a cat, but it didn't matter. He was awake, standing at his desk, almost as if he had been expecting her, which he proved when he stated,

"Princess," calmly yet cockily, his signature smirk on his face.

She walked—practically _ran_ —towards him and engulfed him in a tight hug. It took him a few minutes to actually respond, but eventually his arms wrapped around her. She breathed him in, relieved that even though he'd barely been released from Detox only a few hours ago that he still smelled like _Haymitch_ : coal, musk, and alcohol.

"I've missed you," she breathed into his neck.

He snorted. "How? You came to visit every day, even though you weren't supposed to."

"Don't act like you minded," stated Effie, finally backing away.

"How'd you know I was released?"

"Plutarch told me." Effie looked him over. "You don't look so good."

"Thanks," he said dryly, and she gave him a small smile.

"I can't stay long. I have to prep Katniss; she's making a propo. You should stop in. She's horrible, Haymitch."

"I'm not sure she'll listen to me at the moment."

Effie, ever the Escort, started straightening Haymitch up: buttoning his shirt, straightening his jacket, brushing his hair. "I'm sure you'll think of something. She needs you."

And then her lips were against his, briefly, gently, and he was too stunned to move.

It wasn't their first kiss, but it was something about 13 that was changing things between them.

By the time he came back around, she was already gone.

* * *

"I should kill her my damn self," snapped Haymitch. "She's stubborn. Impossible. Pig-headed. A cocky little shit."

"You two don't get along because you're so much alike," Effie smiled.

"It's not bloody _funny_ , Effie. She could have _died_."

"You care for her," stated Effie gently.

"I don't. Any care someone might have for her got blown up with that hospital in 8." He continued to pace the room and she followed him with his eyes. He was tense, his face in a dark scowl, muttering under his breath.

"I think she's quite sorry." Effie told him. He snorted. "I visited her. I think she misses you, if it helps. She just misses Peeta more." Haymitch just continued to pace. "I think you should tell her what happened to you."

That had him gaping, his body rigid.

"It's none of her _fucking_ business."

"Every other Victor is out there shooting their propos, telling Panem how the Games changed their lives, how Snow forced them to behave. Nobody's dared to ask you to talk about it. But you should tell Katniss."

"I'm not gonna use what happened to get her to feel _sorry_ for me. Are you fucking stupid?"

"Your pride is quite annoying, Haymitch. I'm not saying she'd feel bad for you. She'd certainly understand you a little more, though."

"It's none of her business. And it's not really your place to talk to me about it."

Effie sighed. "Okay," she said. "I suppose I'll leave you to your thoughts, then." Her lips brushed his softly—she'd taken to doing that whenever he was particularly upset, though he wasn't sure why. What he _did_ know was that her kisses always seemed to calm him.

"Wait," he called. "I didn't mean you had to leave."

She seemed truly surprised, and he had to admit he was too. He cleared his throat, licking his lips, and tasted her.

He thought he might be able to get used to them.

* * *

She paced the room, frowning. "Are you _crazy_?" she hissed for the thousandth time.

"If you ask me that one more time, Princess." He zipped up his bag a little more harshly than necessary. She was driving him up a wall.

"Haymitch, this is insane. There is no way you can go. I forbid it."

His head whipped to her. "You _what_?"

"You heard me."

"If I were you, I'd shut up. Now."

She marched up to him. "Haymitch, this is _stupid_. You can't _possibly_ go to 2. It's _dangerous_."

"A while ago you were pissed because I didn't go to 12 with Katniss. Now you're fussing because I _am_ going. Make up your bloody mind."

"They're sending you into combat! 2 is enemy territory. They will not surrender without a fight. I don't want either one of you going, but let's face it: Katniss has proven herself. You? Not so much in twenty-five years."

Haymitch glared at her. "I'm _so_ glad to know you still believe in me, Princess. Makes me feel _great_."

"This is _not_ about your ego, Haymitch. You don't sleep well during the night, so your instincts are probably off. And I've never seen you carry anything other than your knife, and I'm not sure how much good that'll do against a _gun_. I don't even like Katniss having only a _bow_. I'm quite sure a bullet travels faster."

She huffed, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Listen, I'm going. My instincts are just fine, whether you believe in them or not."

"Does Coin know you're going?"

Haymitch made a face. " _Yes_."

Effie let out an annoyed sigh. "Then either she wants you dead or she's doing so to torture me. Probably both."

"Would you stop acting like a mad woman? Nothing will happen."

"You don't know that! This is _war_ , isn't that what you keep telling me?"

He finally marched up to her, his bag in hand, forcing his mouth to hers. She responded immediately, almost against her will. He palmed the back of her head, the kiss deep, demanding, and thrilling, the bag falling to the floor.

It had her fumbling for his belt buckle, her hands shaking. He moaned softly when she bit his lip, pinning her against the wall. He was going to be late, he realized, but he didn't really care. He lifted up her sweater dress, wrapping her legs around him.

"Is this goodbye sex? Please don't let it be goodbye sex."

There were tears in her voice, and it had him freezing.

She was really worried.

 _Fuck_.

"Effie," he whispered, burying his face in her neck. He breathed deeply, torn between desire and proving a point to her. He _wanted_ her, he always wanted her, but if she thought this was goodbye sex…. "Let's wait until I get back, yah?"

" _Haymitch_! It is quite rude to leave a girl hanging."

"We'll finish when I come back. It'd prove to you that I'll come back in one piece, okay?"

She stared at him, biting her lip to keep it from trembling, but her eyes gave her away. They filled with unshed tears, but she blinked rapidly to ensure that they would not fall.

"Don't look back, okay?" whispered Effie.

He fastened his pants back up, grateful his jacket was long enough to cover him, because he _definitely_ still wanted her. Then he crashed his lips to hers again, until her hands slid around his neck and her tongue forced its way into his mouth.

It nearly had him deciding that no, he wouldn't go, but in the end she pushed him away. She walked towards his vanity and he grabbed his bag and left, doing as she asked, and didn't look back.

* * *

She saw him enter in, _walking_ no less, next to Katniss' gurney. "You… you _impossible_ , in _sufferable_ , lying, _selfish_ …"

"Asshole, is the word you're looking for," Finnick told Effie with a grin.

" _Manners_ ," hissed Effie, pointing a finger at Finnick, and then her eyes rested back on Haymitch, "but _yes_."

"I told you I'd be fine, Princess. Relax. I'll meet you in my room."

It took him _hours_ to get there, and when he entered his room it didn't take him long to realize that Effie had stayed here while he was in 2. Her things were _everywhere_ : her bra, hanging over his desk chair; her leggings draped across his desk; her headscarf on top of his pillow. His bed was a mess, proof that she probably hadn't slept well, and he felt a bit guilty at that.

"I _hate_ you," she snapped as soon as she saw him, and then she was approaching him with a glint in her eye that had him frozen on the spot.

"Now is that a way to greet a man who nearly died?"

With surprising strength she pushed him, and it nearly had his temper flaring up, except her lips were on his in a second.

As far as kisses go, it had his toes curling and his knees buckling.

"I hate you so much," whispered Effie, her hands at his belt buckle. "I nearly lost it when we lost the feed. And then _Coin_ asked me to _leave_ because I _might_ have been a little hysterical." He nearly snorted because he doubted very much that her hysteria had been _little_ , but then he noticed the tears running down her cheeks.

"Effie," he said, but she had succeeded in pulling down his pants she jumped into him, her legs around his waist.

His hands moved on their own accord and he groaned, her lips already heavy on his.

"Inside me. Now. Now. Please." He walked her to the bed, placing her down gently on the bed. She was still emotional, and he figured he'd need to take his time with her.

Her back arched when he slid into her.

"All I could think about was getting back to you," he told her honestly, his voice low.

She slid her hand up his chest and to his cheeks. "I think maybe I do not hate you," whispered Effie.

He snorted, his hips moving. "I think maybe you love me."

"I think I do not want to talk about it, but anything I say when you're inside me does not count, because my brain is _mush_."

He kissed her, because he waned to, because _he_ loved her, even if he couldn't say it, but he was _definitely_ in love with her, which he'd realized and it dawned on him that if he didn't come back to 13 alive, Effie was going to lose her shit.

They would have to talk about it, though. Maybe not today, but soon. They'd gotten 2 on their side, so now it was really only a matter of time before they took the Capitol. And he had no doubt that they would win, because Katniss wanted Snow dead, even if she didn't know it yet, and the girl tended to get what she wanted.

And what would happen to _them_? What would happen to him and this beautiful woman who was currently cumming because of him? The woman who's been by his side for twenty years, who wouldn't _have_ to stick around when they were all free.

He swallowed her scream with a searing kiss as he emptied himself into her.

He thought he might actually die happy if he got to kiss her for the rest of his life.

* * *

Haymitch found himself quite _nervous_ , and it _aggravated_ him to no end. He _knew_ her, so he knew how this would end. Coin was going to lose her life, and had had a death sentence waved over her head the minute she decided to bomb the Capitol, ending Prim's life. And she'd finalized her death by asking for that final Hunger Game.

Haymitch grabbed Effie before she was set to prep Katniss. She seemed surprised to see him, but pleased.

It was quite the different look than when she used to frown at him.

He approached her, shutting the door, and walking firmly to her, his face set. He tried not to be distracted with the elaborate hot-pink peplum dress and her ash purple wig. Despite the makeup he knew she was still Effie, _his_ Effie.

He pulled her to him, his hands on her waist. "Listen to me, very carefully, Princess. Don't say anything, don't give anything away. But I'd bet you _anything_ that Katniss isn't going to execute Snow. She'll execute Coin."

Effie sucked in a harsh breath.

"So the rumors are true then?"

"Rumors?"

"That Coin was the one who bombed the Capitol? That Gale's bomb…." Her voice trailed off and tears filled her eyes. He wasn't sure how close Effie and Prim had gotten in 13. But what he did know was that the whole reason for Katniss ever being the Mockingjay was because she had volunteered in her sister's place.

It all seemed so pointless when Katniss ended up losing the one person she had started out to protect.

The same could be same for Peeta.

"Yah, the rumors are true." He gripped her tighter, digging his nails into her flesh. "When that arrow flies, Coin's supporters are gonna flip _shit_. I want you out of the line of fire. I want you to head back here and don't fucking _move_ until I come get you."

"Haymitch—"

"Effie!" He figured he'd leave marks in her hips, even over her ridiculous dress.

"I'm not a bloody damsel in distress."

He cupped her cheeks. "I'm not gonna argue with you. I want you back here where it's safe. Am I clear? Don't answer unless you're about to say 'Yes, Haymitch,'" She scowled, her eyes flashing.

He pressed a kiss to her lips.

He marveled at the way it calmed her, the same way it calmed him.

* * *

Haymitch would never admit that he'd changed his outfit _three_ times. He'd slit his own throat before he ever said such a thing to anyone. Still, he found he thought he looked quite impressive, and thought he made quite an impact on Effie when she saw him coming down those stairs.

Her eyes only lingered on him briefly, but they took everything in nonetheless.

He was perfect, she decided, and nothing would ever change that.

Certainly not this goodbye.

He's too busy staring at her, quite pleased that it is quite easy to see the real Effie underneath the made up façade, that he misses whatever moment is shared between Effie and Katniss. Pretty soon the girl has walked a few feet away, no doubt now giving them privacy, and suddenly he is left alone with Effie.

He smirked, because that's what he does best, and he figures he's a pretty good actor after all this time. "Effie," he said, and he couldn't quite hide the smile. "Don't be a stranger."

He leaned in for a kiss, and her cheek is soft and gentle against his lips, and it doesn't take him but all of two seconds to realize that it wasn't what he wanted, that it wouldn't be enough, and he wouldn't be _Haymitch Abernathy_ if he didn't do what he bloody wanted, so he quickly captured her lips with his.

Time stopped, for a moment, and the kiss was brief, but he was pretty sure he conveyed _everything_ to her in that moment. He was so done with _hiding_. He _wanted_ to kiss her, so he did, and to hell with anybody who had anything to say about it. She breathed in deeply, and he resisted from deepening the kiss.

He drew away, and the smile she gave him was sad. He hoped she understood that he meant it: _don't_ be a stranger, he nearly repeated.

"Take care of her," she whispered, but she stared pointedly at him, as if to remind him to take care of himself as well.

"I will," promised Haymitch, already walking away.

If Katniss was surprised at what had taken place, she didn't let on, and the walk away was silent as they made their way back to 12.

They were used to goodbyes, him and Effie, though none had ever been harder than this one.

As now their custom, he refused to look back as he walked away, hoping, like all their times before, this would not have been their last kiss.


	213. Ridiculous

_Warning: this is just a bonafide, long drabble. Hardly makes sense, but it was still fun to write =)_

 **RIDICULOUS**

 **Rated T**

Effie stumbled into the penthouse, Haymitch grabbing her elbow, and gently guided her to the couch. Cinna and Portia were curled up, watching the day's recap. At the commotion they both looked up.

"I'm fine, Haymitch," Effie slurred, and he snorted.

"Yah right." He pushed her down onto the couch. "Sit."

Portia and Cinna both stared, amused, while Haymitch went to the bar to pour himself a drink.

"You're drunk," stated Cinna, his eyes twinkling.

"That I am," Effie agreed.

"That's funny. I only heard rumors of Haymitch's drinking."

"I don't drink. I just did tonight because I let Coral get under my skin. I shouldn't have but now it's a little too late." She was pouty, and Portia and Cinna shared another amused glance.

Haymitch sat down next to her and eyed his two new stylists. They were quite a sight. She was currently curled up next to him, both of them in casual pajamas, Cinna's arms wrapped casually—and comfortably—around her.

"So what's up with you two?" asked Effie, and it was obvious she wasn't _that_ drunk. She was wondering the same thing he was, apparently.

Portia and Cinna shared another look, both of them grinning. Portia leaned forward. "I'll tell you what's up with us if you tell me what's up with you two."

Effie and Haymitch just blinked at her.

"Oh, come on. I won't tell. I mean… are you two…?"

"Are we two what?" asked Effie.

"I mean do you…?"

Effie stared at Portia and frowned. Leaning forward she said, "Are you asking if Haymitch and I have ever _slept together_?"

"That's exactly what she's asking," grinned Cinna.

Effie stiffened, looking at the both of them, and then she threw her head back, her hand clutching her chest. "Don't be _ridiculous_. Of course we haven't."

Cinna frowned. "Why not? You could cut the sexual tension with a knife."

Effie kept chuckling. "That would be _highly_ unprofessional. Not to mention…" Effie gave a sly glance to Haymitch, "Haymitch probably has permanent whiskey dick."

Haymitch's mouth sprung open, clearly shocked, and then he scowled at his Escort as Cinna and Portia fell into a fit of giggles. "Just because I've never gotten a hard-on for you doesn't mean I can't get it up, Princess."

Effie turned to him, her own eyes twinkling suddenly. She bit her lip slightly, her head tilted to the side. She grabbed his glass and took a sip of his liquor, not that she needed to, biting the rim of the glass to hold back her smile. "Okay, Mr. Abernathy. You win this round."

"See? That's what I'm talking about. You two practically undress each other with your eyes. I thought for sure you two had fucked." Cinna looked between them, trying to figure them out.

Portia leaned forward again. "But it's _Haymitch Abernathy_. He's a _Victor_. I nearly wet my pants when Cinna told me we'd gotten this District. I mean I _know_ you remember his Games." Portia crossed her arms and stared at Haymitch. "You're still drop-dead gorgeous." Her eyes rested on Effie. "How have you not…?"

"Because I _know_ Haymitch, Darling," Effie said. She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her face but she ignored him. "There's not much left to want." He kept glaring at her. "The women in the Capitol still want him, though. All my friends want me to introduce them, but it's inappropriate."

"So you two don't do… _anything_? I mean it's been nineteen years."

Effie looked at Portia. "No."

"But yesterday at the Reaping you two hugged. Cinna and I were sure it was because you'd missed each other."

"Don't be ridiculous. Haymitch needed to distract everybody from the fact that Katniss had volunteered." They all stared at her, though Haymitch looked the most surprised. Haymitch looked as if he was trying to figure something out.

Portia sighed, shaking her head. "I feel like that's your loss. I mean what's not to like? He's dark. Mysterious. Dangerous. His hair has that I-just-got-fucked look." Effie snorted and took a sip.

"And Haymitch, how have you not jumped on Effie yet?" asked Cinna. Haymitch arched an eyebrow and grabbed his drink back from Effie. "I mean she's just as famous as you."

"She is," Portia agreed. "I didn't know who I was more excited or honored to meet. I mean Effie you're the reason I got into fashion. You're still just as beautiful now as you were then. I bet men throw themselves at your feet."

Effie rolled her eyes, snatching Haymitch's drink again.

"Fucking get your own, Trinket," snapped Haymitch.

"You're so much closer than the bar, Darling." She took a long drink. "If there were more men like Cinna in the Capitol I'd be married with kids by now."

Portia threw her head back and laughed. "It's a shame I'm not into sharing. I'd definitely invite you into our bed. I'd consider it now, except I'm not all that sure Cinna would look twice at me if he saw you naked. You could still be modeling."

"Oh, please," Haymitch muttered.

"She could," stated Cinna. "Why'd you quit? You were right at the height of your career. You were supposed to stay famous so that I could be your designer. That's how my life would work out."

This time Effie laughed. "If life turned out the way we dreamed I'd have married Haymitch once I turned eighteen." Portia and Cinna both perked up. "I can't believe I just said that." She finished the rest of his drink and then attempted to hand him his glass back, only he was staring at her, his mouth open wide. "Oh, don't kid yourself, Haymitch. You were the most attractive Victor ever before Finnick. Any girl with eyes wanted to marry you. Don't worry, though, once I met you, you became immensely unattractive."

He snarled at her while Portia and Cinna laughed again. He got up and stalked to the bar, this time brining two glasses.

"You didn't answer my question," Cinna told Effie. "Why'd you quit modeling?"

Effie sighed. "Let's just say I wasn't happy in my career choice anymore, okay? And we'll leave it at that."

Cinna frowned, but eventually shrugged. "Well you were incredible, and you still are. I can't believe I was wrong about you two, though. I'm never wrong. You two definitely have chemistry. You guys should just fuck and get it over with." Effie just stared at Cinna while Haymitch snorted. "You wouldn't be so uptight, Effie, and Haymitch, you might—"

"Not even on my drunkest night, at my most desperate hour." Haymitch's voice was firm and cold, and he ended his statement by taking a large gulp.

"Pity," Portia said. "If I swung that way, I'd do Effie."

"How sweet," said Effie. "But I definitely don't do girls. Though I think you would have been my type if I did."

"If you guys ever want to, just send me an invite," Cinna said. Effie rolled her eyes. "And if you two end up fucking each other, I promise your secret's safe with us."

Effie sighed again, taking another drink. The room was starting to spin. "There's no secret. It'd never happen."

"What about with me?" joked Portia.

"I like penetration, and I doubt very much you could help me with that."

"But I bet Haymitch could," Portia grinned.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure Haymitch has enough to… penetrate."

Haymitch choked on his drink. " _Fuck you_ ," he spat, and Effie burst into laughter.

"I had to, Haymitch."

"You know nothing about my stroke game, Princess."

"I don't think _anyone_ knows anything about your so-called stroke game, though it's easy to assume. I mean you certainly must be compensating for something. Or… lack there of…."

Cinna and Portia gaped.

He stared at her over the rim of his glass for several moments as she blinked innocently at him.

"Okay, Trinket. You win this round."

"Oh, Darling, I win them all. Any round you win, you do so because I allow it."

This time Cinna scooted up and reached across the table to grab Effie's hand. "You are absolutely perfect, and anybody who says otherwise is a complete fool." He kissed her hand. She blinked at him, confused as to why he would say that. The night had been light and playful up until now. "You're lonely. You don't get close to anybody. But it's okay. Portia and I will take you under our wing. We will be good friends, I think."

Effie smiled at him sadly. "I do not have friends. Not real ones."

"I want to be your real friend. I'd like to get to know the real Effie Trinket. Not the model. Not the Escort. The woman who's looking at me with entirely too much sadness in those natural blue eyes."

Effie snorted. "No one wants to get to know me. No one except _Seneca_ , who's now Head Gamekeeper. He, for whatever reason, keeps pining after me. Coral actually had the nerve to insinuate that he might play favorites for 12 since we were engaged." Effie looked down at her glass, finishing off the clear liquid. "It's stupid. I don't love Seneca. I don't even _like_ him. What kind of ideal relationship has a woman who sentences children to their deaths, and a man who kills them in the Arena?"

Silence. She could feel them looking at her.

Effie stiffened, her hands gripping the glass tightly. "I… I shouldn't have said that." She gulped, standing. "I think I've had enough for tonight. Please, don't… don't tell anyone I said that."

Cinna stood up. "Effie…."

"I'm going to go to bed now."

They watched her walk off, and it'd be this moment that changed everything between her and Haymitch, so that the thought of them wasn't all that ridiculous after all.


	214. Keeping Promises

_Prompt from a Guest: "how long it takes Effie to make good on not being a stranger?"_

 **KEEPING PROMISES**

 **Rated T**

They lied a lot in their line of work. They _had_ to. They were planning a Rebellion under the Capitol's noses. He couldn't just openly defy the law, the President.

But one thing he'd prided himself on was never lying to Effie Trinket.

He might have omitted some things over the years. He might have not told the _entire_ truth. But just flat out lying to her face? Never.

He assumed she'd extended him that same courtesy.

Yet months had passed, and she still hadn't come to visit.

Maybe she had misunderstood him. " _Don't be a stranger,_ " had _not_ meant calling him every single day, which she was doing. Not that he minded. He pretended to mind, but somehow, at nine o'clock every single night, he found himself in the kitchen, waiting for her call, though he told himself he was just thirsty, or hungry, and he wasn't in the kitchen _per say_ because of Effie Trinket.

But contrary to popular belief, don't be a stranger had implied that she would come down and _visit_ him, not just call him and talk to him over the phone. He _missed_ her, and the feeling was foreign, really, which made no sense, because he'd spent most of his life _missing_ people.

He'd also taken special care not to let anyone in, though Effie Trinket, for someone who lived by rules and manners, had kicked her way into his life with absolutely no desire to slow down or go away.

And _now_ here he was, waiting for her to pick up, because he'd messed up last night.

It hadn't been his fault.

He knew what he saw. He was flipping through the television, minding his own business, and he saw her. He had nearly missed it, but he _knew_ her, didn't he? He knew her better than anyone, and there she was, blonde hair, bare faced, light makeup, and she had her arm intertwined with some official looking Capitol and he thought he'd might have heart failure.

Only it wasn't what it'd looked like, and how the _hell_ was he supposed to know that that man had been Cinna's Mentor? Haymitch would have never been privy to that sort of information, and he felt that it was his _right_ to make those kinds of assumptions, because it had definitely looked like a date.

She had been furious, and had hung up on him, and now here he was, the next night, calling _her_ because she hadn't bothered to call him, only she wasn't _answering_.

He would _not_ leave a message.

At least, not another one.

He'd left like… seven or so.

Okay ten.

Maybe a dozen.

Or a baker's dozen.

Who knows? He'd lost count.

It was _her_ fault, he reasoned. If she'd visited him every now and again he wouldn't think she was cheating on him. He was the victim.

He sighed, hanging up the phone when he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Was she really _that_ mad at him to where she didn't even want to _talk_ to him? Had he really messed up that badly? It didn't seem like it. It was just a simple misunderstanding. He'd accused her of things far worse than this.

Being a Capitol puppet.

An angel of death.

And _this_ was going to be their undoing?

A knock on the door had him looking up. He thought about ignoring it. It was only going to be the kids, and he didn't feel like talking to them. Effie had probably called on him to _rat him out_ and they were probably about to give him a chewing out. He could do without that, thank you very much, only they'd just barge in anyway.

Sighing he walked to the door, swinging it open, his meanest scowl on his face, only it wasn't the kids standing in his door.

"Haymitch," Effie said, and he barely took in her bags before she was pushing him back and slamming the door.

She was on him in seconds, and he couldn't even get his pants all the way off before he was inside of her, and he had about three strokes in before he spilled himself into her. They were on the ground, panting.

"Well _it's about time_ ," Haymitch said. "Took you long enough to get here."

"Shut up. I am still quite cross with you for how you talked to me over the phone."

Haymitch snorted. "I only said those things because I missed you." To prove it he rolled over, attempting to kiss her again. "You stayed gone too long. Don't be a stranger didn't mean to only call me."

"I _told_ you I'd visit, didn't I? I've been busy rebuilding the city your Rebels destroyed."

"Oh, are they my Rebels now?" He sucked on her neck, his teeth digging into her flesh and making her body jerk. She moaned softly, bringing her lips back to his.

 _This_ time he lasted a little longer, and his last coherent thought was if he could convince Beetee to delete all those messages on her phone that he'd left. If he had known she'd been on her way here he wouldn't have called her.

Somehow he found himself on the couch, Effie's naked body pressed against his, her face flushed.

"Next time don't take so long in not being a stranger," he grumbled.

Effie smiled. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."


	215. Of Quidditch, Engagements, and Jealousy

_Who doesn't love jealous Haymitch and how much of an IDIOT he is when he's jealous? Had to do one for the HP/HG Universe, particularly since it's HARRY POTTER WEEKEND ON ABC FAMILY! Woohoo. I'll be tuned in._

 _I'm six chapters in on my TWD fic. I'll post it NEXT Tuesday (a week after He's Fire ends). Hope you guys all I like it._

 **OF QUIDDITCH, ENGAGEMENTS, AND JEALOUSY**

 **Rated T**

Effie and Annie got up from the table, chatting as they started off.

"You still comin' to my game today, Trinket?" asked Haymitch.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," she told him, shooting him a smile, and then her and Annie were off to their next class. Haymitch found himself watching her until she disappeared around the corner. When he turned around the rest of the Victors were all staring at him, eyebrows raised.

" _What_?" snarled Haymitch.

"Nothin'," Chaff stated. "You and Trinket just seem to be getting along awfully well." Haymitch shrugged and started walking towards Care of Magical Creatures. "And you seem awfully happy that Trinket's going to your Quidditch game."

"So what if I am?"

"What's going on with you two?" asked Johanna.

Haymitch arched an eyebrow at her hostile tone. "Jealous?"

Johanna snarled. "Not in a million years."

"Then why the _fuck_ do you care?"

"Because she's a bitch."

"So are you."

Johanna stopped. "You're _defending_ her," she accused. "What's really going on?"

"Nothing," sighed Haymitch. "We just understand each other, is all."

More like they understood that they wanted to screw each other's brains out, but that wasn't a line either of them were willing to cross just yet.

"Well understand she's a _fucking_ whore, Haymitch. Trinket gets around."

"She doesn't either," Finnick stated. "Don't start spreading rumors about her, Jo."

Johanna glared at Finnick. "You understand she's practically a Slytherin, right? She's probably only using you to get under Mummy and Daddy's skin, Haymitch. _Don't_ fall for her. Your girl hasn't even been dead all that long."

Haymitch stopped and spun towards Johanna, his eyes blazing. Chaff immediately stepped in between them.

"She's just tryna get a rise outta you, Mate. Relax."

" _Fuck_ you, Johanna," Haymitch said anyway, and Chaff forced him to turn around and keep walking.

Johanna shrugged. "Don't shoot the messenger. Trinket probably slipped you a love potion, or she heard you were good in bed. I don't know what the deal is, but don't fall for her. She's bad news. Besides, I'm pretty sure she's engaged to Malfoy."

Haymitch stopped again. "What?"

"Don't listen to her," Finnick stated. "Effie called off her engagement to Malfoy before school even started."

Haymitch stiffened. " _What_?"

Finnick arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you know? It was major news, all over the Daily Prophet. The engagement didn't last long, though."

They were talking as if they hadn't just sliced his heart wide open.

"What's that face for? Who cares? Lucius is old news."

"Bull _shit_ ," Johanna said. "The _real_ reason she's going to the game is to watch Malfoy."

" _You're playing Slytherin right_?" Those were the first words she'd asked him when he'd asked her to watch the game after the Halloween party.

"Don't be thick, Mate," Chaff stated. "Don't let Johanna get in your head."

"Fine," snapped Johanna. "Do what you fucking want. But when your heart gets broken, I'll be the first to say I told you so." With that she stomped off.

* * *

Effie and Annie were heading down to the Quidditch pitch when someone tapped her on her shoulder. She turned around and found herself staring into a pair of familiar arctic blue eyes and ash blonde hair.

Effie felt herself smiling. "Hello, Lucius."

"Effie," he stated with his own smile. "Are you going to the game?"

"Yes," responded Effie.

"Wear my scarf for good luck?"

"What?"

Lucius didn't repeat himself – he just undid his scarf and placed it around her neck. "I always thought green and silver were more your colors. Wish me luck."

"More like break a leg," muttered Annie, and Effie gently elbowed her.

"Good luck, Lucius," Effie said with a smile. She waited until he walked off before whispering, "You're going to need it against Haymitch." Annie and Effie snickered all the way to their seats."

"What is _that_?" barked Finnick.

"What is what?" Effie asked.

" _That_ around your _neck_?"

"Oh." Effie barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Lucius waned me to wear it for good luck. It's the least I could do, he'll need it against Haymitch." Effie and Annie laughed again but Finnick grimaced.

This was _not_ good.

* * *

Johanna flew up to Haymitch. "Trinket's here," she stated.

Haymitch scowled. If she was telling him, she had a purpose. "Yah? And?"

"And you should see what she's wearing."

Haymitch swore he wouldn't look. He _swore_ he wouldn't.

But he only saw red when he got a glimpse of that Slytherin scarf around her neck.

He didn't remember much of the game. He just remembered feeling refreshed every time he bumped into Malfoy. He considered it the absolute sweetest victory of his life when he beat out Malfoy for the snitch. The crowd went wild and Haymitch felt something unfamiliar in his stomach when he saw Effie screaming and cheering down below.

He was soaring, ecstatic, all of his friends were cheering and patting him on the back and congratulating him, and he didn't think anything – or any _one_ – but Effie could make this win any better, only she was nowhere to be found.

It scared him how easily he could spot her in a crowd. She was next to Malfoy and Haymitch could see him mouth the words, "Come on, let's go." And then he wrapped his arm around her and they started to head back to the castle.

Haymitch froze, staring after them, and after a few seconds Effie turned around and the two of them locked eyes. Hers were unreadable and he imagined his were the same.

After a few minutes Chaff pulled him away, and Haymitch decided he wouldn't worry about Effie Trinket anymore.

* * *

They were partying hard when Effie came into the common room about ten minutes after the party had gotten started. To say he was surprised was an understatement.

"It's way too early for you to break up the celebration, Princess," Haymitch said.

"Actually I'm here to join the celebration," said Effie.

Haymitch shrugged. "Long as Malfoy doesn't join you," Haymitch said.

Effie sent him a smile. "He won't."

Haymitch didn't return her smile.

The party lasted until Professor McGonagall came in. She encouraged everyone to go to bed and then trusted Haymitch and Effie to get everyone out of the Common Room.

"Well that was quite some party," said Effie.

Haymitch ignored her, which made Effie frown. He had been ignoring her pretty much all day and had spent the majority of the party wrapped around a Slytherin girl a year younger than them named Coral who was sweet on Haymitch.

Effie tried not to let it bother her.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" Effie finally asked.

"Nope." Those were the first words he spoke to her and she cut her eyes at him.

"Well clearly something's wrong with you. You have never been the one to hold back, Haymitch, so please, by all means, spit it out."

Haymitch shot her a look as if he was about to tell her off, but at the last minute shook his head and started to head upstairs. "Just go away Effie."

"We are not finished cleaning," hissed Effie.

"I'll finish the rest tomorrow. For now jus' _leave_."

" _What_ did I ever do to you?"

"Why don't you just head to Lucius' room?"

Effie froze for awhile, until the sound of Haymitch slamming his door got her out of her daze. Before she knew it she was marching up his stairs and barging into his room. He already had his Quidditch robe off and the top of his uniform was over his head.

His chest was bare, and he truly was an attractive individual. His skin was olive, his chest square, and he was certainly ripped. Effie supposed all the hours of Quidditch practice had paid off.

" _Do you mind_?" snarled Haymitch.

Effie blinked, noting the faint bruise on his chest.

"You're hurt," Effie said softly.

" _What_?" Haymitch followed her gaze and noticed the snitch sized injury on his chest. "Oh. That. Yah. Courtesy of your bloody boyfriend."

Effie blinked at him. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, my bad. _Fiancé._ "

"I am not engaged to Malfoy anymore. Do you think I'd go around kissing you if I was?"

The two of them stayed quiet. It was the first time either of them had mentioned their kiss from last week.

"I don't really know what you do," he finally said, grabbing another shirt and pulling it on. Effie tried not pout and found herself quite relieved. "What I do know is I invited you to my Quidditch game but you showed up to it with Malfoy's scarf around your neck, _and_ you left with him."

"Lucius asked me to wear it for good luck, and I only agreed because he _needed_ the good luck in playing against you. Just because I wore his scarf does not mean we are together, and you could have just asked instead of being such a jerk today."

"Was I the only one being a jerk? You seemed pretty annoyed about me being with Coral."

Effie felt her heart drop down to her stomach. "Are you _with_ Coral?"

Haymitch snorted. "I'm not _with_ her."

"See what a simple question will get you? The answers you want."

Haymitch scowled. "So… you're not with Malfoy?"

" _No_. He was… convenient, and my parents liked him. He asked me to marry him in front of a large crowd and I said yes as to not embarrass him, but when we were in private I called the whole thing off. I didn't love him, and Lucius didn't love me. I don't think he could ever love anyone other than himself."

"Sounds like you two have a lot in common," snorted Haymitch.

"Go to Azkaban, Haymitch."

He flashed her a smirk that had her heart melting. "Okay, I messed up."

" _Again_ ," Effie reminded him.

He chanced it and walked up to her, grabbing her by the waist. "I'm sorry. I don't like the thought of you with Lucius."

"Just with Lucius?"

"Anyone, then."

She refrained from asking him if anyone included him or not. She just allowed him to hesitantly brush his lips against hers, only deepening the kiss when he realized she wouldn't push him away.

It wasn't until she left that he realized he was in _deep shit_.

 _A/N: YES I know Lucius playing Quidditch isn't cannon. I feel like Draco would have announced it to the ENTIRE world if he had, but I wanted to make Lucius a Quidditch player in my story. =)_


	216. Home Is Where You Love

_HEY! So TWD multi-fic is coming along great. I'm on chapter 8. It's hard to write because we're still finding out clues to what happened in that two month break between episodes 6x9 and 6x10._

 _In the meantime I've written a new one-shot for TWD! It's my first TWD fic EVER. It's called "For Him Too." I'd LOVE to see some of my HG fans check it out. Don't want you all to think I'm one-dimensional ;) It's just a quick one-shot. Hopefully one of many._

 _Don't worry, my TWD obsession won't take away from this story. I have plenty more prompts to post, so keep the ideas coming =)_

 _Title taken from The Wiz_

 **HOME IS WHERE YOU LOVE**

 **Rated M – detailed smut**

He walked into the house, his eyes sweeping the first floor before the door even slammed close. He locked it behind him, his suitcase in his hand, and made his way upstairs, where he knew Effie was.

He opened the door and found Effie in bed, on his side, like she always was when he wasn't in bed. He dropped his suitcase and climbed on the bed, crawling on top of her, Effie immediately stirring awake.

"Haymitch," Effie immediately breathed, and he responded with a kiss from behind, his hands snaking around her waist. She gasped into his mouth, moaning softly, her back arching. She slid her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

"Missed you," murmured Haymitch against her ear, and then his lips were all over again.

"Obviously," Effie purred. "You're home early."

"Couldn't stay away." He started unbuckling his belt and she unwrapped herself from around him so that she could unbutton his shirt. When he finished taking off his pants he started tugging on her gown.

"So you caught the first train that left?"

"Had to." He threw his jacket over his shoulder and then his shirt quickly followed. "I was gonna kill Jo."

Effie kept her mouth shut, because she'd always been taught that if she didn't have anything nice to say, to not say anything at all. Instead she focused on his lips, and how quickly she could get him to kiss her all over once her nightdress was off.

He stayed on his knees, his legs underneath him, and gently pushed her down. Gripping her hips he wrapped her legs around his waist, sliding into her with assurance.

She seemed just as eager as he did. Her hips instantly rose up to meet his thrusts, and she was _soaking wet_. Gripping her waist he slammed in and out of her, transfixed at the noises she was making and her breasts bouncing

He should be used to it, but a weekend in the Capitol made him desperate for her. He bent down and kissed her, roughly, and she slithered her arms around him, pressing her chest against his. He could feel her breasts bouncing against him, her soft skin mesmerizing him.

He'd really _missed_ her.

Not just this, he realized. He missed _her_. Her scent. Her smile. The way she moaned. The way she whispered his name. The way he had her _begging_.

He slid up, pulling her even deeper, his hands gripping her breasts. Her hips worked on their own accord, thrusting into him with a fervor he hadn't seen from her before. She stuttered out his name and he found himself mesmerized.

"Haymitch," she whispered, and he knew she was close.

So was he.

She unwrapped her legs from his waist and placed them on his shoulders. He moaned, gripping her hips even tighter. She grabbed her breasts, squeezing them, and arched her back.

She released just as he spilled himself into her, and together they moaned out the other's name, again and again. Too spent to do anything other than collapse on top of her, Haymitch took several deep breaths and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Sorry if I smother you to death. Can't move."

Effie smiled, wrapping her arms around him.

"How was your trip?" asked Effie after several moments.

"Long without you. And it could have been handled over the phone." Haymitch frowned and finally slid out of her. "I don't like going out there, and Plutarch made it seem urgent. Paylor was surprised that I was even there."

"Well at least you got to see some old friends," Effie reasoned.

"Yah, whatever." He pulled her to him. "There's no place like home, Princess."

"That's because this is where your heart is. Home is where you love." She snuggled into him, and he was quite ready to make fun of her, only he realized that she was right.

He kissed her forehead, and found himself smiling to sleep.


	217. To The Tributes

" _What do you think of write a few drabbles (or something like this) with Katniss, Peeta and, maybe, Cinna POV with what they think about Hayffie?" -Barducco_

 _And:_

" _I am loving all of the MJ inspired fics coming out after the movie but I'm really missing the Effie victors world you have so wonderfully created. Can we see some of that? Either around CF or pre HG?" -GuestJ_

 **A TOAST TO THE TRIBUTES**

 **Rated T**

"To Rue," Haymitch said, raising his glass.

"To Dem and Leni," stated Chaff, also raising his glass in the air.

"To Marena and Troy," Beetee said, his glass up.

"To Rowan and Maple," said Finnick softly.

"The odds were never in their favor," Johanna finished.

"What do you mean?" asked Seeder. "They're the lucky ones." With that the group tilted back their drinks.

At that moment Effie walked up. She wasn't allowed to share this moment with them, no matter how much she empathized. This moment was for the Victors, to pay tribute to the boys and girls who'd been Reaped and forced into the Arena.

Forced into the Arena by people just like her.

"That was beautiful," Cinna stated, walking up behind Effie.

"Thank you for allowing us to share this moment with you," Portia said softly.

"We didn't," snarled Johanna. "It's your Penthouse, so we didn't have much of a choice."

"That's not true," Effie tsked. "If you had asked us to leave, we'd have gone."

"Then go," said Johanna coldly.

" _Don't_ go," Finnick said, glaring at Johanna. He rested his sea green eyes on the three Capitols. "We're glad to have you. Anybody who sees the error of the ways of the Capitol is okay in my book."

"But they _are_ Capitol," hissed Johanna.

"And you're a bitch, but you're here," Haymitch growled, finishing off his drink.

Johanna narrowed her eyes at him. "Used to be a time I could talk shit about anybody I wanted to without having to hear your mouth. Trinket's got you going soft."

Seeder snorted. "Haymitch is _never_ soft around Effie."

"Thank you _very much_ ," Effie said, her voice clipped, "but in case you forgot, _I am right here_."

"We know. We can see you in that fucking _pink_ dress." Haymitch glared at her in all her glitter and shook his head.

"I'm so _proud_ of you. I had no idea you knew your colors. Next you'll be able to recognize shapes and numbers too."

Cinna burst out laughing and Haymitch shot him a look that had him clearing his throat. Portia made her way to the bar to keep them from seeing the smile on her face. She walked back towards the table, bringing a new bottle of liquor with her.

"I think it'll come down to Thresh and Katniss," Chaff stated randomly, pouring himself a healthy amount of liquor.

"I agree," stated Cinna. Chaff looked at him, staring at the man with the gold eye liner. Chaff leaned back, boldly looking from Cinna to Portia.

"Is she with you?" Chaff asked, nodding his head towards Portia.

"She is," said Cinna good-naturedly.

Chaff sighed. "Why are all the good ones taken?" He winked at Finnick. "First Effie, and now this hot little number."

" _Gross_ ," spat Johanna. "You're looking at Capitols." She grabbed the bottle, scowling, and poured herself a full glass.

"I think the fact that they're in this room with us is proof enough that they are not," Beetee declared, though he too stared at Portia and Cinna.

"What do you mean Effie's taken?" Haymitch slurred, it finally registering what Chaff had first stated. Chaff grinned and Finnick snorted.

"They're teasing you, Haymitch," stated Effie, blushing slightly. "Just ignore them."

"Wait… so you guys _aren't_ together?" Portia asked.

Effie stilled. "Portia. We've had this discussion numerous times."

"But I always thought—"

"Well you thought wrong," interrupted Effie, her voice firm. She straightened up her dress and walked towards the table, suddenly craving her own drink.

"That's just what they _say_ ," Finnick said. "None of us believe them, though."

"Well if you guys don't know, then maybe they aren't," said Cinna.

"If you guys thought they _were_ , then maybe they _are_ ," Seeder countered.

"Can we stop discussing me and my Escort right in front of us?" snarled Haymitch. "Just mind your fucking business."

"My aren't we defensive?" Beetee smiled, and Haymitch scowled at him.

"This isn't what tonight's supposed to be about," pointed out Johanna. "We're supposed to remember the fallen Tributes—the _good_ ones. We shouldn't be discussing Haymitch's sex life with his bloody Escort."

"Exactly," Effie stated.

"Shut up, Trinket, because these Tributes are dead because of you."

"These Tributes are dead because of Snow," said Effie coldly.

"And you're his Angel of Death," Johanna snapped back coldly.

"Be that as it may, tell me, what exactly are you doing to change it? I mean besides being a bitter bitch whose sole mission in life is to make everyone around her _miserable_?"

Johanna gaped. "What the fuck are _you_ doing, exactly, besides sending innocent children to their death?"

"She recruited me." Everyone turned towards Cinna, and they could see the fury in his eyes. "Granted Effie warned me about you and your temper. Not much bothers me, aside from having a sociopath for a President, but you've no idea the risk Effie takes. Anyone can send secret messages from their District. Effie risks her life every day in the Capitol as a Rebel."

"Forgive me if I don't think the poor Capitol _Escort_ doesn't have that hard of life." Johanna stood up, slamming her glass down on the table, and stalked out.

No one stopped her.

Effie sighed as she watched Johanna go. Cinna had a dark frown on his face.

"Why do you let her talk to you like that?" asked Cinna.

"She is a Victor. And I have no idea what that's like. She hates me because she's supposed to. I can't fault for her for the system. She is but a victim."

"And so are you," Portia stated.

"They do not see it that way," said Effie sadly. "She'll come around, or she won't. I don't lose sleep over the Johanna Mason's in Panem. I lose sleep over the Rue's and Clove's and the Maysilee's."

Haymitch sucked in a harsh breath but Effie ignored him.

"I lose sleep over the thirty-eight Tributes my hand has picked. I _am_ an Angel of Death." Effie looked down at her half-full glass, tossing back the rest of its contents in one drink. "I don't blame her for hating me. She is a Victor. You will show her respect. _That_ is an order, Soldier."

She placed her glass down on the table and walked towards the bar cart, where she took a few shots to calm her shaken nerves.

She didn't even tense when she felt Haymitch's hand on the small of her back.

* * *

Chaff looked on, his drink in his hand, watching as his best friend attempted to comfort his Escort. He was probably the only one in the room aside from Haymitch and Effie who knew for certain that the two of them were screwing, but let Haymitch tell it, he wasn't fucking an Escort, but a Rebel.

That mattered to Haymitch, Chaff knew, because knowing he was falling for a Capitol would definitely be Haymitch's undoing.

 _That_ Chaff knew Haymitch had no clue about. His best friend had no idea he was falling in love. Chaff doubted that Haymitch would recognize love even if stared him in the face in a blinding, glittering two-piece pink suit.

Yet his best friend had gotten up from the table nonetheless, stumbling over to Effie, his hand on the small of her back, trying to prove to her that she was more than an Escort.

She was a Rebel.

* * *

Finnick gently sat his glass down, his sea green eyes following Haymitch as he got up from the table and made his way over to Effie. He wondered if anyone else caught the way Effie briefly leaned into his touch.

He was definitely screwing his Escort.

It was obvious, really, but they continued to deny it, though Finnick didn't know why.

Perhaps because it was dangerous. If word got out about them… especially _now_ , with the District Uprisings and Katniss' burial of Rue… things were changing, and it was better, safer, if Effie and Haymitch kept their… situation under wraps.

Yet Finnick thought it couldn't be all that easy, to hide all the sexual tension between them.

* * *

Seeder had never disliked Effie. As the oldest of the crew, aside from Mags, who rarely Mentored anymore, she was privy to certain things that the younger hotheaded ones weren't. Any doubt she might have had about Effie when they met was squashed when she had talked to Mags.

Mags, who'd assured her that Effie was a good person, and that Haymitch was blind as a bat to not be able to see that.

Seemed like he saw it well enough now.

He was gentle with her, and Seeder refrained from smiling, because Effie had taught a Victor _gentle_. They forgot about that once they left the Arena. Gentle could get you killed. There was no time for gentle.

Yet the hand on the small of Effie's back definitely was.

* * *

Portia meant to follow Effie, but Cinna had shifted slightly, just enough to get her attention. He shook his head no, and Portia had the mind to ignore him when Haymitch brushed passed her.

Screwing or not, he cared about Effie, which he proved by leaving the table and walking up to her. He placed his hand on the small of her back, a simple question on his lips:

 _Are you okay_?

She nodded, forcing a smile, but he saw right through it. They whispered together for a few minutes, until Haymitch grabbed the bottle she was drinking from and brought it back to the table with him.

Effie didn't do such a good job of hiding her grin.

* * *

Cinna stared, slightly amused at Effie and Haymitch, and also slightly troubled.

He _liked_ them together.

He was a reader of the people. That was why he'd have bet on Katniss if he'd been allowed to bet. That's why he'd agreed to work with Effie, even though he knew being a Rebel was dangerous. That's why he'd confided who he was to Haymitch. And that's why Portia was the love of his life.

He knew people.

Like he knew that Haymitch and Effie were in love with each other, and probably had a very physical relationship, which is why one could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

He defended her, even when he didn't know it.

They needed to be careful.

Love made the smartest people blind and stupid.

Then he thought of Johanna and her temper, and realized that no one should be quick in their spirit to become angry, for anger lodges in the bosom of fools.

What should have been a great night honoring Tributes turned into something else by someone selfish.

Then Cinna took another glance at Haymitch and Effie, and realized that they were probably two of the most selfless people in the world.

Too bad everyone couldn't see that.

* * *

Beetee knew a lot about everything.

He knew a thing or two about attraction, too.

He couldn't scientifically explain love, but he knew that the law of attraction was similar enough to it.

Effie and Haymitch were going through it.

Effie had not been born a Rebel, but she would die one. Haymitch had seen to that, even if he hadn't meant to.

Like he hadn't meant to fall in love with her, but he was, so there's that.

Beeetee thought he could answer Cinna's question: Effie let Johanna talk to her like that not because Johanna was a Victor, but because Effie knew how to see herself through a Victor's eyes.

He bet Haymitch had taught her that as well.

* * *

Haymitch was nearly back at the table when he raised his glass again. "To Effie's thirty-eight other Tributes," he stated, and Effie stilled, staring, for once, with her mouth wide open.

Cinna and Portia were the next to raise their glasses, and the rest of them followed suit.

He thought Effie might burst into tears, but instead she offered him a soft smile, and they all drank.

This night wasn't supposed to be about Capitols versus Rebels. There'd be _plenty_ of time for that.

Tonight was about those who'd fallen Victim to the Arena, to the Games, and Effie was included in that, as were her dead Tributes. _Their_ dead Tributes.

They could only hope that their two live Tributes would change all of Panem.

He'd drink to almost anything, but Haymitch would _definitely_ drink to that.

 _***By the way, the anger line Cinna thinks of is a scripture from the Bible: Ecclesiastics 7:9._


	218. Sorry Doesn't Change Anything

" _Hey it's me again :) Prompt for you: MJ after Effie's rescued she is informed of the 76th hunger games in which as punishment effie has to run. Coin informs Effie that it was Haymitch that had the deciding vote...You take it from there." –Nkneeshaw. BRILLIANT prompt. IDK why I loved this so much LOL_

 _A/N: Didn't see when/why Coin would have been able to tell Effie anything, so I changed it, FYI._

 _ **ALSO I'VE DECDIED TO A VERY SIMILAR THING WITH TWD THAT I HAVE WITH HAYFFIE. I'LL START A COLLECTION OF RICHONNE ONE-SHOTS IN A STORY THAT I HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT THE TITLE TO YET…. IT'LL BE SOMETHING RICK-CENTRIC LIKE "RICHONNE AND THANGS" LOL. EVENTUALLY I'LL COME UP WITH A TITLE, BUT FOR NOW, JUST BE ON THE LOOK OUT FOR THAT. YES I'LL BE TAKING PROMPTS FOR THAT STORY AS WELL.**_

 _ **Also, the LAST chapter of He's Fire is posted! Next Tuesday I will start posting TWD multi-fic. Don't have a title for that yet, either, but be on the look out. For now, enjoy another prompt.**_

 **SORRY DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING**

 **Rated T**

"Tell me it's not true," Effie hissed the minute she saw Haymitch.

He blinked, looking worse for the wear, and it was obvious he had no idea what she was talking about. There were probably a million different things that were going through his head: had the Rebels really blown up Prim? Did Katniss really just kill Coin instead of Snow? Was Katniss now on trial?

"I'm gonna need you to be a little more specific than that, Princess." He was exhausted, and he forgot to lace his voice with his usual bark. He sighed, his eyes bloodshot, dark shadows under his eyes. He was relieved that she'd gotten out okay. He'd been worried when the mob of people rushed Katniss for shooting Coin. He'd been _relieved_ , damn it, and had missed the anger radiating off of Effie.

"Tell me you didn't vote for a 76th Hunger Game. _Tell me_ that _you_ weren't the _deciding bloody vote_!" That had Haymitch on alert. He didn't immediately answer, but he gave himself away the minute he stilled, his eyes guarded, his face blank. She felt her heart sink. "You didn't."

"Where did you hear that?" asked Haymitch.

"Does it _matter_?"

Her tone had his back going up almost immediately. He looked at her, taking in how stiff she was. Her face was in a dark scowl, her blue eyes melted ice, her face slightly flushed. More than that there was judgment in her eyes, and she hadn't looked at him with judgment in _years_.

"What's it to you if I did?" he snarled.

Her eyes switched from judgment to betrayal. "It's _everything_ to me, Haymitch. The 76th Hunger Game would have ensured that _I_ was in that Arena."

Is that all she was worried about? "I'd have never had let that happen, Princess," he assured her, relieved that that was all. He started to walk towards her but she backed away from him.

"And my family, Haymitch?" Her voice was shaking and it stopped him cold. "If I hadn't gone into the Arena, would you have given a _damn_ about my family? I'm the _only_ Escort left, and yes, you might have been able to save me, but you would _not_ have fought for my parents. Does their life mean nothing?"

Haymitch just stood there, staring at her. He'd been waiting weeks for her to talk to him like this. She'd been so quiet after he'd found her in that cell, nothing but a shell of her former self, and when he'd asked her to play Escort again to prep Katniss he thought she'd never talk to him again.

And then… this.

" _Answer_ me!"

" _Fuck you_ , Effie," he snapped out. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I don't know anymore," whispered Effie. "But I can tell you I was done being a murderer the minute President Snow announced that you, Katniss, or Peeta had to go back into that Arena." Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe I _fell_ for you." Haymitch felt his heart drop to his stomach. "They say love is blind, but how I could miss the fact that you were so _vindictive_?"

"I'm not vindictive." His voice held a little bit of warning that she missed.

"You sat there and attempted to play _God_ today when you voted yes for that Hunger Game. You'd have let my family be _killed_!"

"Yah, well they killed _my_ fucking family! Does that not get to go unpunished?"

"President Snow is dead! He's _dead_ Haymitch, and so is Coin, who was just like him, if not worse. I've watched death _destroy_ you, but you came back. You let people in. But I don't know you. And I damn sure don't know how you're any different from Snow or Coin."

For the first time he thought he might hit her. She'd pushed him before, but this… her betrayal at being betrayed, when she'd never even bothered to _ask_ …. It was nearly unforgivable. They stood there, staring daggers at each other for several moments.

"I rotted in a cell for _months_ for a man who's just as prejudice as the worst Capitols."

He could safely say it'd been _years_ since he'd genuinely hated Effie Trinket, but in this moment… he thought it was inevitable. He felt it, way down to his soul, how much he hated her, hated her words and assumptions and thoughts and mindset.

She, he realized, was just as Capitol now as she'd ever been.

"Goodbye, Haymitch," she said. And for the first time he noticed the small suitcase in her hand. Her voice was cold, her eyes now dry, and then she started to stalk passed him, and he had the mind to let her go, let her be _wrong_. She'd hear the truth eventually, and then she'd feel bloody _stupid_ , and she'd have to come crawling back, only he wasn't so sure he even wanted her anymore.

"I voted with the Mockingjay," Haymitch found himself blurting out, reaching out and grabbing her arm. Effie stiffened, and he scowled, both at his own weakness of caring for her and at the fact that she didn't even want him to _touch_ her.

 _Him_ , the man who'd been inside of her more times than he could count. He probably couldn't even count that high. _She'd_ come on to him, he wanted to remind her, but it didn't matter, because he'd fallen for her just as hard as she'd fallen for him, and he hadn't even meant to, and it was for reasons just like this, because it fucking _hurt_ and it was _always_ the people closest to you that toyed with your heart the most.

"What does that _mean_?" asked Effie. She was searching his eyes, and he saw it, the hope that he'd prove her wrong, that he would give her _something_ to work with. She was hurt and angry, he realized.

"I don't have to like them," he spat out. "I don't have to give a damn about your people just because I was _stupid_ enough to…." The word nearly made him choke, so he clamped his mouth shut. He couldn't say it, no matter how much he meant it.

He turned away from her, letting her go as her eyes widened, as if she'd been foolish enough to hope that he'd actually say it. He walked towards the mantel, looking into the flames before he finally spun around.

"I hate this place, Effie. It has taken _everything_ from me. It has _stolen_ everything from me. I was punished for something I hadn't even known was a crime. I was supposed to _win_. That was supposed to be the _only_ rule, only there are millions more, aren't there?"

He was losing control, she could tell, but she didn't know why.

"But _you_?" continued Haymitch. "You showed me not to judge a book by its cover, that sometimes people can be a product of their environment. I thought Plutarch was the only Capitol, and then you came along. And then so did Cinna and Portia. Cressida. Finnick had a list of people worth trusting, worth fighting for. But no one has been more important than you. I hate this place, but you've shown me that there is good in this place. And if you could stop your silly accusations and your stupid assumptions and just _ask_ me, and give me a chance to explain, I'd have told you that I voted with Katniss, who only voted yes in order to gain Coin's trust. Maybe, _maybe_ once upon a time I'd have been vindictive enough to vote for a Game. But meeting you…." Haymitch paused, looking at her. "It's the only time the odds were in my favor. And no war is worth that to me, Effie."

Effie took one deep breath. "You didn't really mean it?"

"I wouldn't wish what I went through on _anybody_ , Effie. Not even President Snow himself. No one deserves _my life_."

Effie dropped her bag, its drop magnified in the silence of the grand room. Her eyes fluttered closed, as if she realized the magnitude of her mistake. She actually swayed and his body lurched towards her.

"I have ruined everything, haven't I?" Her voice was fluttered around the room, so low that he could barely hear her.

"No," sighed Haymitch. "Johanna did."

Effie huffed. "How did you know she told me?"

"There's no one on earth more bitter than that bitch. She'd have wanted to hurt you, and me, probably."

Effie hunched. "I do not know why she still hates me. We shared a cell."

Haymitch scowled. "You're not exactly off the hook. You believed her."

Effie looked away. "I'll admit it. I've been trying to figure out how to make our goodbye easier, and I thought this would be the perfect way out."

He walked up to her, his hands on her hips. "So it's still a no then? You won't come back with me?"

"How many times must I tell you? I can't, Haymitch. Not now, at least. I am…" She drifted off for a second, only coming back when Haymitch's lips brushed hers. She responded automatically, deepening the kiss. "I will come to 12, but it won't be anytime soon. I need _time_."

Time. Yah. That's what she kept saying, but the same way he'd always chosen Katniss, she chose the Capitol. She'd been given her immunity, her freedom, and him? He'd have to suffer the consequences of his life's choices.

Most likely without her.

Because she _said_ she'd come, but who knew? And he never would. That he _did_ know. He wouldn't ever come back here. He had no reason to.

Sorry excuses for lovers and friends, both of them.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she whispered.

"Me too, Princess."

But as he watched her grab her suitcase, giving him one last glance before she disappeared, he realized that sorry didn't really mean anything.

It didn't change anything, either.

So when she arrived in 12, three years later, wig free, face bare, dress simple, she didn't offer him a single apology for keeping him waiting. He just moved aside and let her in.


	219. Bath Time

**BATH TIME**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch found Effie upstairs, in their bathroom, soft jazz music playing. She was submerged into the claw-foot bathtub, a glass of red wine in her hand. Her dark red hair was clipped up so that it wouldn't get wet, and the rest of her body was covered with what looked like thousands of bubbles.

He watched her for several moments. She was totally content, a soft smile on her relaxed face, her eyes closed. Candles were placed around the bathtub, flickering, making it almost magical.

She'd turned him into a romantic, even when he didn't want to be or wasn't trying to be.

"Come join me," she said softly, and it still surprised him sometimes, how well she could feel his presence. He had already planned to do that regardless, but to have her invite him got him even more excited.

He played it cool, walking up casually to the bathtub, one hand in his pocket. He sat down on the tub and his Seam eyes rested on her Capitol ones. She gave him a genuine smile and she leaned up to him. He met her and their lips joined.

"I missed you," said Effie. "The house is lonely when you're gone."

"I was only gone a weekend," he said with an eye roll.

"It was a long weekend," said Effie, reaching in for another kiss. "How was Plutarch?"

"Doesn't matter. Don't wanna talk about another man while you're naked."

"Speaking of being naked…." She arched an eyebrow and he smirked.

"Okay, Princess." He started unbuttoning his shirt, and taking his time doing so, even though he wanted her so badly he'd much rather just jump into the tub and have his way with her.

"That's fine, you tease," Effie said as he continued to take his time. "I've been here all by myself this weekend. I've perfected how to please myself."

Haymitch stared at her, his mouth springing open, and she smiled slyly. He quickly started undoing the rest of his buttons and discarded his shirt and pants. He slid into the custom made tub she had _begged_ him for.

He'd had given her anything she wanted, but he had to put up a fight, didn't he? She "convinced" him by explaining the _many_ things she could do to him inside said tub, and he'd quickly agreed. They hadn't done all the things she'd promised him, but he thought he might remind her about a few of them right now.

He'd never been one to play with his food before he ate, but he didn't immediately touch her when he climbed in. He sat opposite her, staring at her, and she leaned back and stared back at him.

She slid her legs over his and he jerked. She smiled at him, innocently, and she was about as innocent as a lethal tiger. For someone who'd grown up in the Capitol, she certainly had a huntress air about her. She could seek her prey by batting an eyelash, and they'd flock to her like lapdogs.

Haymitch was no one's lapdog.

Unless her hands were _there_ , and her tongue was licking _that_. He gave an involuntary moan and then his hands gripped her hips and pulled her on top of him. She laughed as she slithered around him, her legs locking behind his waist. She kissed him and he kissed her back.

It _had_ been a long weekend.

Lonely too.

He nibbled on her neck for a few moments and then she sunk down, causing him to moan aloud. He held his breath as he waited for her to start moving. She rocked her hips casually, her body sleek, and he started moving against her.

His hands slid against her as he gripped her body. He cupped her breasts and she moaned, throwing her head back. He reached up, his hands sliding up to her neck. She started moving faster, the water splashing like waves around them.

After her first orgasm he tightened his hold on her and twisted them around so that he was on top of her. One of her legs dangled outside of the tub while the other one wrapped around his waist. She held onto his back as he silkily slid in and out of her. She didn't care about the water falling onto the floor, or the mess they were making, as she clung to him.

He sped up, watching her, enthralled at the way she was responding to him. It still surprised him, the way he could get Effie Trinket—Abernathy, he was still getting used to that too—to cum.

He decided not to silence her orgasm with kisses, but let her cries take him over the edge with her. He pulled her to him, forcing both of them up, though he was about to pass out.

"I have to go out of town more often," he said.

She shook her head, tightening her grip on him. "Absolutely not. But I shall spend the rest of the week showing you how much I missed you."

Haymitch smirked. It was certainly good to be home.


	220. My Best Friend's Girl

_I do have a potential story idea. I think. What if Chaff asks Haymitch if he should ask Effie out, noting that she's single. Haymitch (being Haymitch) tells him go for it, until of course he see's Effie nod like she's agreeing to it, then jealousy rears its ugly head. Chaff of course knows Haymitch's true feelings towards Effie and he's just trying to make Haymitch confront them. This may be more Hayffie than Chafmitch? (Can't think of a better coupling name) but I think it would show just how close and supportive Chaff is as a friend that he wants to see his friend happy." –Itsmegetoverit._

 _Re: since you asked for prompts I was also thinking of Effie being upset but Haymitch is busy/they're in a fight and some how Chaff comforts her...jealous Haymitch? –GuestJ_

 _Also like the prompt re: haymitch jealous over chaff and effie. Having trouble thinking of prompts lately but I'll keep trying- nkneeshaw_

 _Sooo Chaff/Effie/Haymitch triangle seems to be a thing LOL. Reminds me of the BMW episode where Shawn asked out Topanga when Cory couldn't do it, so this title came from that episode_.

 **MY BEST FRIEND'S GIRL**

 **Rated M**

Effie gasped in surprise when she found herself face-to-face with Chaff. He gave her a sly grin as he wrapped his arm around her waist, his good hand grasping hers. She refrained from scowling – they were, after all, in public, and scowling was not proper – but she did frown.

In her fifteen years as an Escort, they'd never danced together before.

"If you play along, Trinket, you'll get a treat later," Chaff assured her.

"I want _no_ such thing from you," stated Effie, and he grinned even more.

"Not from me. Trust me, I give you a hard time, but you're not really my type." She had no idea Chaff had a type. She thought he only screwed with women who were desperate. "I'm here because Finnick and I are sick of you and Haymitch beating around the bush."

That statement had Effie stiffening in Chaff's arm. "I do not know what you mean."

Chaff snorted. "Please. My best friend's been pining after you for a good ten years now, and everybody knows you've wanted him since you saw his Games." Effie didn't say anything, but her blush probably gave her away. "He's miserable, old, and alone, and honestly he could use a little fun. I figure if we pretend to flirt maybe it'll get a reaction outta him, and he'll give you the ride of your life tonight."

"You, Sir, are vulgar beyond reason."

Chaff arched an eyebrow. "Yet I don't hear you denying it. You haven't slapped me yet."

"The night's still early," warned Effie.

"Stop being dramatic, and don't play hard to get. We all know Effie Trinket isn't that hard to get at all.

"You know _nothing_ about me," Effie declared.

"I know you've got the hots for Haymitch, and he's got it bad for you. I'm _tired_ of him moping around, grumbling every time a Capitol dances with you. He even gets mad when Finnick dances with you. I asked him if I could dance with you and he shrugged like it didn't matter, but all he needs to see is you laughing and he'll send a death glare at me that'd have me dropping dead if looks could kill."

Effie felt the corners of her mouth twitching. "So what do you propose?"

"Act like we're having a good time. Let me spin you around, let the people see you having a good time. I'm not opposed to a kiss or two."

"Not in a million years. Besides, I'm not your type, remember?"

"You're not my type, but you're still _hot_ , Trinket."

"My lips are not going anywhere near you, Chaff."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "It's your loss, trust me."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"I'm going to touch your waist a lot, okay?" She glared at him. "Do you want Haymitch or not?"

" _Fine_ ," huffed Effie. "Let's get this over with."

So they danced together for quite a few songs. He was a good dancer, she mused, though Haymitch was better. His eyes were bright with mischief as he twirled her, and she found it wasn't all that difficult to laugh and have a good time. Chaff and her had their differences, but he was a good friend to Haymitch, and she respected that.

"Follow my lead, okay?" Chaff asked, and Effie grinned, nodding. He pulled her close and she refrained from stiffening. "Pretend that you're actually interested in going back to my room with me."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Can you ever just do what you're bloody told?" He backed away from her and grabbed her hand, still grinning, and pulled her off the dance floor. She kept her smile in place – she was used to acting – and followed him off the dance floor, giggling.

Haymitch caught up with them, snatching their hands away from each other. He rounded on Chaff first.

" _You're_ my best friend," he growled. "Are you really about to leave this Capitol party with my Escort?"

"Why not?" shrugged Chaff. "I asked you if we could dance, and you said you didn't care. I even asked you if she was single, and you stated she was. What's the big deal?"

"You have your own Escort to fuck. _Mine_ is off limits to anyone but _me_." With that he snatched Effie's hand and they made their way to the Penthouse. He didn't say a word to her until they reached the Penthouse. "You are _fucking_ pushing your luck," he snapped once they were inside.

"Am I?" purred Effie.

He shot her a glare and she gave him a smile. Grabbing him she pulled him to his room, shoving him inside.

"You're such a fucking _tease_ ," he told her, pushing her against the wall. He ran his hands over her body, allowing them to roam over her dress. She moaned, her hands fumbling for his belt. "You did this on purpose."

"Of course I did," stated Effie. She slid her hands inside of his pants and he jerked, cursing.

"You've got my blood boiling, Trinket."

"Really? Who knew? I thought you didn't like me?"

He gripped her, tightly, his eyes flashing. "Were you really going to come back up here with Chaff just to teach me a lesson?"

"Of course not. But you should really stop lying to yourself, Haymitch." She started unbuttoning his shirt, deciding that she wanted him completely naked. She didn't _want_ to be pinned against the wall tonight. Tonight she wanted him on top of her, his body covering hers, her legs wrapped around his waist, and she wanted him looking at her as he brought her to climax.

"Lying to myself?" He snorted, but his hands were shaking as he unzipped her dress. He _loved_ the fact that her zipper was in the front. It did all sorts of things to him and he'd been imagining taking it off all night.

"Yes." Her lips captured his as her dress fell to the floor. "You _like_ me, Haymitch."

He nearly panted as he realized her strapless bra unclasped from the front as well. She was clever, the little vixen, and he pushed her to the bed, discarding the rest of his clothes before climbing on top of her.

"I more than _like_ you," he confessed truthfully. "There. Are you happy?" She inhaled sharply when he slid into her. "You _know_ how I feel about you. I don't know _why_ I have to tell you all the time."

"Because I _miss_ you when you're away, and I don't know what you're doing with who when you're in 12."

Haymitch grunted, moving quickly. His thrusts were shallow, only deepening once she wrapped her smooth legs around his waist, her heels still on. "I'm not doing _this_ with anybody else, that's for sure. And how do I know you're faithful in the Capitol? You can't stay off of me. Your sex drive is high and we're only together a few weeks out of the year."

"You're _always_ with me," she moaned out, arching her back. "I am faithful because the men from the Capitol can't make me cum, nor do I want any of them. I have perfected how to please myself, trust me."

That had him nearly cumming, so he cursed and pulled out.

" _Fuck_." He was breathless, and he forced his mouth on hers. She responded immediately, slipping on top of him. She sat down on him, her eyes glowing navy as she started rocking her hips against him.

He wasn't going to last long. He never could that first night, after being apart for so long. Most of the time he wanted to fuck her senseless on the day of the Reaping but she refused to sleep with him when he was filthy. Normally she always made him shower, and then he had to play Mentor to the damn kids who were only going to die regardless, so he never got her until the kids were in bed and they were getting ready for their first party.

Except tonight they'd had a small… disagreement about his feelings – and did he really look like a guy who'd be all up in his feelings all the bloody time? – and she'd left his room, hurt and upset, and he'd figured she'd come around, until he saw her ready to leave with Chaff.

Possessiveness and love were synonyms in his mind. She _knew_ that.

She came, and he followed, her body taking in every drop. Exhausted she collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing lazy circles around the small of her back. He nibbled on the ear that held the miniature Mockingjay tattoo behind it.

"I'd have killed my best friend for you tonight," he told her. "I don't much appreciate you putting me in that position."

"Why can't we just tell him?" sighed Effie, slipping off of him. "He just wants you to be happy, you know. He thinks you are miserable."

"That's how I'm _supposed_ to come across as, Princess." He refrained from telling her that he used to be miserable, before her. "But if you really want me to, I'll tell him."

* * *

Chaff stared at his best friend. "Since the 60th Hunger Games?" whispered Chaff. Haymitch smirked. "You've kept this from me for _thirteen years_?" Haymitch just grinned. "You've got a better poker face than I do. Well… now that I know I'll leave her alone."

"You fucking better. I almost lost my shit last night."

"I was just trying to get you to loosen up. I was looking out for you. Guess you really didn't need it, though, aye mate?" Chaff raised his glass in the air, and Haymitch clinked it with his own. Now he knew there was no need to mess with his best friend's girl.


	221. I Spy With My Eye

_HEY GUYS! Sorry for being MIA, especially with no notice. Last week was midterms, AND THEN I CAUGHT A STOMACH VIRUS! I've been SO sick it's not even FUNNY! I still can't really eat but at least I've stopped puking. Felt like Haymitch for a while._

 _I KNOW I said I'd post my multi-fic TWD story, but since I was sick I couldn't. Ya'll I couldn't look at a TV screen, let alone a computer. I WILL post it next Tuesday, scouts honor. For now: here's another prompt:_

 _Katniss noticed something between haymitch and Effie while the 74th hunger games. Katniss corners haymitch on the victory tour and demands to know what's going on. –Avikingandhisheartbrokenqueen_

 _Changed this up, because the books were told in Katniss' POV and if she'd seen this, it'd have been canon. SO I've got my own theory on this._

 **I SPY WITH MY EYE**

 **Rated K**

The train ride was silent, which didn't bother either of them in the least. They didn't talk much as it was, and he imagined that both of them were lost in their own thoughts, thinking about the two people that mattered the most to them, and how'd they left them behind once again in the Capitol's control.

They were eating dinner—more like playing with their food—when Katniss looked up and stared at him. He met her stare, arching an eyebrow. He could tell she was thinking about something, and he wondered warily what she was about to blurt out.

"You kissed Effie today," she stated, and he realized that he and Effie hadn't been as discreet as he'd thought. Not that he was trying to be discreet. He was done hiding from people. But he realized that Katniss wasn't as oblivious as she had let on. Apparently she'd spied that goodbye kiss he and Effie shared. He wondered how long she'd been wanting to ask him this.

Haymitch leaned back and kept his eyes locked with hers. "Yah," responded Haymitch.

"I thought you hated her."

"I thought you hated Peeta."

She scowled, and this was one of the few occasions that he was proud of how much like him she was. "You know I don't."

Haymitch shrugged. "Now you know I don't hate Effie." He spooned some soup in his mouth, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. It was, for a little while. And then—

"Why'd she stay in the Capitol?"

Haymitch refrained from rolling his eyes. "Because Peeta needed a familiar face, and I was sentenced back to 12 to watch over you. He needs someone, and he and Effie are as much alike as you and me."

"Will she come back with him?"

That question had him frowning. "I don't know. That's the plan, but…." He shrugged, trying to be casual. "She's her own woman." And she wasn't so much like Peeta that she'd come crawling to 12 to live her life with him.

"I think she's good for you," Katniss stated. Haymitch snorted and Katniss frowned. "You need good in your life."

 _That_ he definitely couldn't argue with. He _did_ need good. For once he _wanted_ good. He wanted to be able to offer Effie something when she _did_ come to visit, because she would demand nothing less.

 _Don't be a stranger_ , he had told her, and he had meant that.

She had told him to take care of Katniss, but her eyes had also warned him that he better take damn good of himself, and he hoped it wouldn't be that hard. He wasn't sure what awaited him back in 12. He knew they were going to rebuild his District first, but it would still be a graveyard without a doubt. He wasn't sure how he was going to react to it, but he hoped he'd keep himself together.

He didn't think he could handle disappointing Effie again.

"Yah," Haymitch finally stated. "Effie's good for me." He figured maybe that same magic that was in 13 that made him fall for Effie was still present, because he was currently discussing his love life with his Tribute.

Katniss sighed. "I should have known. Peeta _said_ you two were a _thing_ , but I just couldn't see it."

"When did Peeta say this?"

"During the Victory Tour," shrugged Katniss. "He pointed out a few things, but I didn't really buy into it. I didn't even really pick up on it in 13. I was glad she was there, but I never really thought about why until Prim—"

Katniss stopped, and grief filled her eyes, and Haymitch knew the conversation was done after that. She didn't mention Prim, just like he didn't mention his family, just like they wouldn't mention Peeta's family.

Ultimately the three of them would be family now.

He hoped he'd be able to add Effie to that one day.


	222. Accidentally Married

" _Haymitch and Effie have secretly been married for years. Maybe they did it accidentally when drunk and it would be too much of a scandal so they don't think about it most days. I do love reading all your stories! –GuestJ" I laughed for HOURS at this. It's LIFE!_

 **ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED**

 **Rated M**

Effie moaned softly, the chill waking her up. She was hardly _ever_ cold, but she was now. She blinked open her eyes, realizing almost immediately that she was naked and uncovered. She frowned down at herself. She hardly ever slept naked.

A sharp pain in her head had her groaning. Come to think of it, she had no idea why she was naked. In fact… she had no idea how she'd gotten into bed. She sat up much too quickly, whimpering, and immediately attempted to grab her head.

A soft sigh, coming from the body next to her, stopped her in her tracks.

She screeched, snatching the cover away from him – he _seemed_ like the type to steal and hog all the blankets – and immediately covered herself. Haymitch startled awake, looking around, his eyes blurry.

"Trinket? What're you doin' in my room?" His voice was low, still slightly laced with sleep.

"You're in _my_ room, Haymitch."

He wiped his eyes, much like a child, and then looked around again. She saw the way his body tensed as he took in the room, his grey eyes finally resting on her.

And her nakedness.

His mouth dropped open and he snatched the covers away from her, as if _he_ were the one who needed hiding. She whimpered and grabbed back the sheet while he used the blanket. "What the _fuck_ happened last night?"

"Well it's pretty obvious, don't you think?" Her voice was small, and she looked much too pale against the silk red of her sheets. Haymitch looked around again, noting his jacket on the floor. His pants were discarded in the corner. Her dress was draped over the back of the chair of her vanity, and half of her lotions and perfumes were knocked over.

A palm print on her mirror made it _very_ clear what they had done.

So did the large hickey on her neck.

He was going to die. Effie was going to _kill_ him.

"Holy fucking shit," Haymitch said, and then he placed his head in his hands.

"What _happened_ last night?" whispered Effie.

"I don't _know_. I…." He scrunched up his face. "I only remember going to the Capitol party. I don't…." His eyes drifted in and out of focus. "Chaff. I remember Chaff. I'll call Chaff, yah?"

"No, don't call Chaff!" Effie said, sounding panicked. "Then he will _know_."

Haymitch sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, and that's when she saw it. She made a noise between a squeal and a gasp. He tensed, his eyes wild, his head immediately turning towards the door.

"What? _What_?" asked Haymitch, clearly thinking they were about to be attacked.

"What is _that_?"

"What's _what_?" He was still looking behind him as if someone was trying to break in.

" _This_ ," hissed Effie, grabbing his hand and shoving it up to his face.

Haymitch stayed absolutely still, his mouth open. Then his eyes slowly traveled their way to her hand.

She nearly fainted.

Wedding rings. They both wore matching wedding rings.

Effie sunk down onto the bed, lying down.

Haymitch stayed still for a long time, and then joined her.

"Okay. This changes things." He stared up at the ceiling.

"Well that's certainly the understatement of the year," she snapped.

"Hey, don't take that tone with me. I didn't force you into anything."

"How do I know that? You probably took advantage of me," she stated, folding her arms across her chest.

Haymitch snorted. "Right. Like _this_ is what I wanted to deal with today at the start of the 68th Hunger Games. As if _this_ is how this year penned out for me."

Effie huffed. "You do not have to be so sarcastic."

Haymitch sighed. "We'll just get it annulled."

"Are you _stupid_?" asked Effie, sitting up. "We can't get it _annulled_. Then everyone would _know_."

"Then what do you suggest, Princess? Hm? Enlighten me."

"I… we… well… we'll just… I mean no one has to _know_. It's not like _you'll_ ever get married."

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at her. "And what about _you_?"

"Me? I…." Her voice drifted off. "We'll cross that bridge when it gets here," she stated. "We just… act like this never happened. It never happened, okay? Last night was… I mean… I don't even _remember_ it. We'll just act like we didn't wake up next to each other."

He stared at her for a long time. "Okay. Fine. It never happened."

He made a big fuss about her closing her eyes as he got out of bed, and then he redressed hastily, scrambling out of her room as fast as his legs would carry him.

Effie played with the ring for several minutes before finally slipping it off of her finger.

…

They never mentioned that night again, and business went on as usual. Legally they were married, but no one knew. There was no discussion, no mentioning it, no nothing. As far as they were concerned, the 68th Hunger Game never happened.

They certainly never slept together again either, despite the fact that they could both feel the sexual tension. Its pull was strong, but they always skirted around it. They toed along the line, but they never crossed it.

As tempting as it was.

Time continued to pass.

"Okay you were _not_ supposed to get drunk," Effie snapped, helping him into bed.

"The deal was I'd help them. They won. There was a celebration. Other Victors kept buying me drinks. I couldn't say no. I thought about it. But then I thought, 'What would my Escort say?' I couldn't be _rude_ , could I?"

"Do not blame your drinking habits on me," said Effie, quite crossly.

"Why not? Someone like you picked me, didn't they?" She stiffened and his hand immediately went to her waist. "I didn't mean that, Princess. You're… different. I know that."

He kept eye contact with her until her eyes softened. She'd forgiven him, again. He didn't deserve her second chances, but he craved them nonetheless. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep, before he did something stupid like kiss her, and she gently fixed the covers around him.

"Yes, I'm different," she whispered. "Guess I wasn't different enough."

He nearly gave himself away, but he stayed still. She gently brushed his hair out of his face, and then planted a soft kiss on his forehead. Then she was heading towards the door.

He waited until he was sure she was gone before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wedding ring.

He wasn't sure why he'd kept it. Marriage had meant something to him at one point. He had never thought he'd get married, and oftentimes he stayed awake—both drunk and sober—wondering what had happened that fateful night. He'd never asked Chaff. He'd never asked _anybody_. But it crossed his mind every now and then, now more than ever, if she thought about that night as much as he did.

….

She walked into his room the day they headed back to 12, closed the door behind her, and then leaned against it. He, like usual, was at his bar.

It'd be like any other time she came into his compartment, only it was late at night, and she didn't have on a stitch of her makeup or wig.

He blinked at her.

"I'm going to do this, because we both know what those berries mean, and I don't know how long any of us have, and I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering what it'd be like to have you inside of me again."

Haymitch stood still, even as she approached him. She reached passed him and turned on the radio, turning up the volume. Even as she stood but a foot in front of him he didn't move an inch.

She placed her lips on his, and he melted into her.

She was all over him, and he was okay with that at first, until he realized she was moving way faster than he was. She had his shirt unbuttoned and his pants unbuckled and she was still fully clothed.

"Slow down," he muttered against her neck. "If we're gonna do this can I at least enjoy it this time?"

She froze, because it was the first time either of them had ever mentioned that night so many years ago.

She pushed him down on the bed, and he stared at her, surprised. "I'll take it slow next time," she told him, though she didn't expect them to be a next time. Not really. She climbed on top of him, immediately sinking down, and started rocking her hips.

"Ah, _fuck_. I shoulda been sober last time." He reached up and brought his fingers to her breasts, squeezing them over her dress. She cried out at the contact, her hips moving faster against him.

Neither one of them lasted very long, and after he'd released he'd grabbed her and pulled her to him. She clung to him, waiting for her breathing to return to normal.

"As soon as I can move again," Haymitch stated, "I'm gonna rip that stupid dress off of your body have my way with you again."

He was a man of his word, she'd learned, and even though it took him forever to take off her dress – he finally just grabbed his knife and cut her out of it, and she didn't complain. In fact she'd found herself rather hot – and then the dress sunk to the floor.

His head had made their way to her breasts, his mouth eager, when her necklace caught his eyes.

She always wore it, he knew. It was always underneath her dress, and he always only saw the chain. It'd appeared out of the blue one day. He'd wanted to ask her about it over the years, but never had.

Now he wish he had.

He froze as he stared at the wedding ring on the end of the chain.

Effie stiffened once she realized what he was looking at.

"Effie," he whispered. He looked up at her and her eyes were guarded. She was slowly backing away, and he let her as he sat there, his mouth hanging open. And then something in the back of his mind told him to _do_ something. "Effie, stop."

He reached down for his pants, digging into his pocket. His fingers wrapped around the ring and he withdrew it, holding it out for her to see.

She stopped breathing.

"I always carry it with me," said Haymitch. "I don't know why. But this thing means everything to me, and has for the past few years."

Like the person standing in front of him. He'd carried it around, and she'd meant something to him, ever since Finnick had confided in him that Effie bought time with him so that he wouldn't have to sleep with the women in the Capitol. He had left the Games that year and walked into his room, opening his top drawer and reaching all the way in the back to grab it, and he'd been playing with it ever since.

She stared at the ring for a few minutes, and then he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her to him. His lips were immediately on hers.

"You _do_ care," she whispered, her lips on his neck.

"Of course I do." He forced her lips to his, kissing her until she pushed him away, breathing hard.

"There's never been anyone else," stated Effie, tugging on him so that they were on the bed. "I was always yours, even if…." Her voice trailed off as his fingers slid into her.

When he took her to bed, afterwards, when he was watching her sleep, he thought about if a girl who'd threatened Panem with berries would be able to fight for a world where he could openly be married to his Escort.

It was funny the way life worked. He never imagined that one day being married would save her life.


	223. When Business Meets Pleasure

_SOOOOOO I KNOW IT'S BEEN A MINUTE SINCE WE'VE HAD AN IN DEPTH CONVO ABOUT ANYTHING, BUT DID YALL CATCH THAT HTGAWM SEASON FINALE? SHONDA AINT SHIT! LORD! AND TWD IS SLOWLY KILLING ME. I JUST CAN'T. HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN THE SHOW UNDERGROUND? IT'S **INCREDIBLE** TIMES INFINITY. CHECK IT OUT IF YOU HAVEN'T, IT AIRS ON WGN ON WEDNESDAY NIGHTS (AT LEAST IN THE STATES)._

 _AS YOU CAN SEE I'M FEELING BETTER, I'M BACK TO TALKING TO YOU GUYS. ENJOY THE PROMPT!_

" _Thought of a prompt based off of something you wrote here. What if as an escort you were expected to sleep with the mentor and because of that neither Haymitch nor Effie know if they can trust their feelings or each others?" –Guest._

 _Struggled with this because I don't think Escorts are supposed to get attached…. And can you HONESTLY picture OUR Victors sleeping with their Escorts? Can you see JOHANNA sleeping with any Capitol like EVER? Chaff…Chaff could go either way for me. I always pictured Chaff as a man-whore who probably has one-night stands, which means he probably isn't against screwing Capitols… but his Escort? Like I just don't buy it, but it's a fan fic, and I wanted to explore it, so I attempted. But 'Of Love and Trust' was NOT supposed to prompt something like this LMAO. I know a lot of fics have the Victors screwing Capitols and Escorts but it just seems OOC to me_

 **WHEN BUSINESS MEETS PLEASURE**

 **Rated M—duh LOL**

On her first night Effie took a deep breath, stared at herself in the mirror, and told herself she could do this. She was _supposed_ to do this. She looked at herself again, checking herself out in her vanity mirror, and deciding that she looked good enough, she made her way to Haymitch's room.

She didn't know if she should knock or not. In the end she just barged in, closing the door behind her. It was pitch-black, save for the television screen glowing blue.

"What is it?" asked Haymitch. His voice was gruff, and she could barely make out his silhouette in the dark. He was on his bed, propped up, a drink in his hand. His features were hard to make out, aside from those eyes. She figured she'd always be able to notice his eyes.

"I was just…" Effie cleared her throat. "I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything else?"

Haymitch brought his drink to his lips, frowning. "It's late. What I _need_ is for you to get the fuck outta my room."

Effie nearly sagged with relief, and didn't even bother to correct his language—as atrocious as it was. "So… you don't want to sleep with me then?" She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.

 _She had signed the contract_.

Haymitch choked on his drink. " _What_?" He sat up and glared at her. "Lady you're out of your mind if you think…." He shook his head. "Get out. Now. And don't ever come in here with that _fucking_ nonsense again."

"It's not _nonsense_ ," hissed Effie, glaring back. It was, but that's not what she meant. "It's in my _contract_. Do not kid yourself into thinking that I'd ever be interested on my own." She _had_ been, back when he'd been crowned Victor, but then she'd had the misfortune of meeting him.

He stiffened and looked at her. "It's in your contract?"

"Yes," Effie said, jutting her chin and folding her arms across her chest.

Haymitch just blinked at her before slamming his drink down. "But _why_?"

"Honestly, Haymitch, isn't it obvious? I'm you _Escort_. Everybody does it. Like I stated, it's in our contract. Granted I _missed_ that little detail, but that is neither here nor there." She vowed she'd never miss the little details again. "Our job is to make sure our Mentors aren't running around making a fool out of the Capitol. We are to keep you happy at all times. Sometimes that means hiring people – _discreetly_ – and if that is more your style, I am not opposed to it. I can always talk to Andera, I am sure she knows of a service."

" _Chaff's_ Andera?" Haymitch immediately reached for his drink. His friend hadn't told him _everything_ about himself, apparently. He drank to his heart's content, eyeing his Escort. "I don't need any services either," he finally told her. "There is _no one_ in this city worth getting my rocks off for."

She thought that was awfully presumptuous of him, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. It wasn't a discussion she wanted to get into.

Suddenly Haymitch burst out laughing. "Is _that_ why my former Escort always tried to screw me?" He chuckled. "I thought that bitch was _mental_. Why didn't she just _say_ that? I'd have put her out of her misery within a second."

"No, I'm afraid there's been some mistake. This rule has only been instated since last year. I guess they got tired of all the sex scandals."

Haymitch frowned. "So my last Escort…?"

"Probably was just attracted to you," Effie stated. She stood up a little straighter, realizing she didn't want to get into _that_ either. "If you don't need my services, I think I will go to bed now. I'm quite tired."

She turned around and was halfway out the door when he called her. "You don't _ever_ have to worry about that with me, Princess. Trust me."

…

Effie moaned, clawing at Haymitch's back, the headboard crashing against the wall. His hips grinded into hers as he grunted out her name at rapid speed. He was close, she could tell, and long gone were the days when he used to finish without her. She'd taught him a thing or two over the years, and how to please her was number one. Another thrust and she unraveled, his name spilling from her mouth as easily as he spilled himself into her.

If they'd mastered anything, it was cumming together.

Breathless she waited for her senses to come to her. It always took awhile with him. He could make her cum quicker than any Capitol man, and it'd take her twice as long to remember her own name afterwards.

She could hear something vibrating in the background but it was still kind of hazy.

"That's your phone, Princess," mumbled out Haymitch.

Her phone? _Oh_! Her phone. She scrambled out of bed, the sheet clutched tightly to her body, until she'd found her clutch. It must have fallen into the trashcan earlier that night when he'd taken her against the vanity.

"Hello?" she still sounded breathless, and she told herself it was because of who it was who was on the other line, and not what she felt for Haymitch. "Oh, no I'm not busy. I was just… taking care of some business."

 _That_ had Haymitch swinging his legs over the bed and rummaging around for his clothes. He doubted she even knew when he left.

He wasn't quite sure why that bothered him.

…

His eyes glowed the color of dark ember as he stared at her face. His hands were shaking as he applied the cream to her black eye.

"You weren't supposed to see this," she stated quietly. "If you had _knocked_ —"

"If I had knocked you'd have hidden it from me, and _that_ I won't allow. You should have _said_ something."

"What was I supposed to say? Besides I don't see how it's any of your business."

Haymitch lurched forward and she flinched. He scowled. "I'm the killer in this room, but I would _never_ fucking touch you," he said darkly.

"Language," she stated automatically.

" _Fuck_ my language, Effie. He _hit_ you. The man you _claim_ you're gonna marry _hit_ you."

Effie swallowed. "I know." Her voice wavered and she backed away from him, blinking rapidly.

"Has he done it before?"

Effie shook her head. "He's… rough. Not like _you're_ rough when we…." Her voice trailed off. They didn't talk about what they did. Ever. To anyone. "I mean the way he grabs me, or he might dig his nails into my flesh, or threaten to knock my teeth in. I didn't think… I didn't know…." She choked out a sob.

He didn't comfort her. He didn't _do_ comfort. Instead he got angry. "I'll kill the son of a bitch."

The way he said it had her spinning around. He was already up and walking towards the door, and she saw it, in her mind, him and Chaff, because they'd never admit it but they watched out for her. If they got Finnick involved too…. Finnick was _strong_ , and younger than all of them, and now that he was eighteen and a prostitute he had a vendetta against the Capitol, so killing someone who's ambition was to be a Head Gamekeeper… well they'd killed more innocent ones in the Arena.

"Haymitch, _don't_ ," she said, running behind him and grabbing him. "It won't do any good. I've already called it off with Seneca. I threatened to go directly to Snow. Escorts are supposed to be _pretty_ at all times, and _this_ —" she motioned to her face—"Is not pretty."

"I don't even know what you saw in the bastard in the first place." Now he was pacing. "You should have fucking told me you were _dating_. Why did I have to hear Caesar asking about your wedding date yesterday to find out?"

"Haymitch, I'm no mind reader. I had no idea you cared. Why would you?"

"Well for one thing I'd have never made a cheater outta you, that's for sure. Why didn't you _stop_ me? Do you know how many times we slept together for the past two years while you were with Seneca?"

"Do _not_ be ridiculous," waved Effie, walking away. " _This_ is business. Nothing more, nothing less."

Haymitch gaped at her. "Is that what you see this as? A business transaction?"

Of _course_ not, but she couldn't tell _him_ that. She couldn't tell him that she cared for him and that no other man would ever amount to anything, ever. She couldn't tell him that even when she was with Seneca she wished it were Haymitch. She couldn't tell him that Seneca had never made her orgasm and that she faked _every single time_.

"What else am I supposed to think?" Effie finally asked.

Haymitch just looked at her. "You… you were supposed to be _different_ , Trinket." It was something about the way he said it that had her back going up.

"Don't _talk_ to me like that! I didn't make myself a whore, Haymitch. _You're_ the one who slept with _me_ , _after_ you said I'd never have to. But it's in the contract, so I sleep with you because I'm damned good at what I do."

He just stared at her. " _What_ the _fuck_ are you _talking_ about?"

"I'm talking about the _contract_ , Haymitch! The contract that states I have to sleep with you. What else would I be talking about? How drunk are you anyway?"

Haymitch stood stock still, staring at her. "I beg… your pardon?"

She huffed and slid her hand to her forehead, as if she were checking for a fever. He was about to drive her insane.

"What contract are you talking about?"

"The contract I signed to be an Escort. We _had_ this discussion, Haymitch, my first night as your Escort."

"You think I remember that fucking far back? I can barely remember last year. I don't even know how long you've been my Escort! All I know is one day I looked up and you weren't eighteen years old anymore. You were _hot_ , and we were arguing, and I wondered if kissing you would shut you up for good, only the kiss ended up leading to your legs wrapped around me. It was an _accident_."

"An accident that kept happening?"

"I've _never_ heard you complaining. You seem pretty satisfied when I'm inside of you."

That statement had her flushing, because he was right. "So… if you don't sleep with me because you're supposed to…." She looked up at him and searched his eyes.

"Come on, Trinket, you know we're… complicated isn't the right word. We… I mean… we have a good time, yah?" He was stuttering. "It's just sex, but it's not just sex." She stayed quiet. "We have a _good time_." He was getting defensive.

He _liked_ her.

"Haymitch—"

"You're different okay?" he snapped. "I don't know what the _hell_ else you want me to say. It wasn't supposed to go this far, but it's been thirteen years of confusion, okay? We sleep together, we fight, we argue, we make up, and I tell myself it doesn't mean anything, and then I come in and see you with a bruise on your face and I'm ready to murder Crane in cold blood. I don't _know_ what it means, but I swear to God Effie if you don't break up with Seneca I will fucking break his neck."

"We're done," said Effie. "I already called it off." He looked at her, a frown on his face. "You're angry."

"What, because you've been sleeping with me because it's your _duty_? No, not at all." Haymitch stalked out of the room and Effie stood there, frozen, for several moments. Then she marched into his room, slamming the door shut behind her. He was at her bar and ignored her entire existence until she started talking.

"Do you think it's been _easy_ giving myself to a man who claims to hate everything about my city? You call me a Capitol bitch at least twice a day. You are rude, insufferable, and I know two-year-olds with better manners. Do you think I haven't gotten offered promotions over the years?" He jerked at that, and then scowled. "I've successfully _finally_ controlled Haymitch Abernathy. But I turned them all down. Oh, I _talk_ like I want to be promoted, because that's what we're supposed to do, but do I mean it? No. I _like_ being your Escort, even if you do make me work like a dog. You are mean and cranky and you drink too much, but you're _my_ Mentor. There's _nothing_ I wouldn't do for you, Haymitch. But do _not_ fault for me for thinking this was just sex to you. You've never given me any reason to believe otherwise."

He slammed down his drink. "Do I _look_ like the guy to be all up in my feelings? Do you _think_ I partake in pillow talk? I _don't_. And with that said, _I'm_ no fucking mind reader either, so forgive me for not knowing this was a _fucking_ business transaction. Seemed like it was more pleasure than business on your end. I certainly make you cum enough times." His voice had lowered several octaves and suddenly he was standing much too close for comfort.

Still, there was a little fight left in her yet. "And it was like pulling teeth to get you to that stage."

He growled, pushing her against the wall. When his lips connected with hers she immediately leaned into him. He could have taken her roughly against the wall, but he thought she'd had enough rough in her life. Instead he picked her up and led her to the bed—they weren't strangers to that—but for once it wasn't rushed or hard and heavy.

He'd rarely seen her naked over the years. Sometimes the occasion called for it, or her dress was too tight and couldn't be shoved up. When he was extremely drunk he liked to touch her—her skin was soft, her body luscious in all the right places….

Now, though, was purposeful, and they'd never done purposeful, so when he slid into her he was purposely gentle, and she seemed to be transfixed. He couldn't blame her. He was _never_ gentle. He didn't know or do gentle. But the occasion called for it, and he hoped he was able to convey everything he could without him ever having to say a word.

He kept his face buried in her neck because he couldn't bare to see the bruise on her face. He'd seen her without her makeup a fair few of times, and it always shocked him, how human, how pretty she was.

It was seeing her without makeup that made him realize she was different.

She whimpered his name, and the way she said it was his undoing. He hadn't been prepared for her to call his name like that. It sounded different.

He slid his fingers down in between her legs, finishing her off, and she rode him, hard, and then her lips were on his again, taking his breath away.

"You really didn't remember that sex was in my contract?"

He shook his head, his thumb caressing her cheek. "And this was never business for you, was it?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It was always business and pleasure."

"Well not anymore," stated Haymitch. "It's only pleasure now, yah?"

She found she was okay with that. "Yes," she agreed.


	224. A Kiss is Not a Rose

" _If you're still looking for prompt inspiration, I always love reading the Cinna, Effie, Haymitch dynamic. I know that's less a prompt and more a push in a direction but maybe that will inspire something? Really enjoy these!" -Mel_

 **A KISS IS NOT A ROSE**

 **Rated T**

Effie slammed the paper down and immediately started pacing while Cinna and Portia looked on, clearly amused. She huffed, muttering darkly, and Cinna took a sip of his wine in order to keep himself from smiling. Portia followed suit when the television replayed the story and Effie glared at the television as if she wanted to rip it off of the wall—which she probably did.

"Calm down, Effie," Cinna finally stated, and she immediately glared at him. "It's not a big deal."

"That's easy for _you_ to say," stated Effie. "It's not _your_ reputation on the line, is it?"

"Nobody in their right mind would take this story seriously," Portia said, watching Effie. Effie stopped pacing and looked at Portia. "Come on, everybody knows Cinna and I are together, and that the three of us are close friends."

"So it doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not. Is that why you're upset? You think I care? I know you and Cinna weren't kissing romantically. You're _friends_ , and sometimes friends kiss. There was nothing romantic about the kiss last night. Some photographer just happened to capture the moment, and now the story is everywhere. Who cares? _We_ know the truth. I trust Cinna, and I trust you. Besides," finished Portia slyly, glancing at Cinna, "I know how my man kisses, and honey, that's _not_ it."

"But they're making me out to be… some sort of _scarlet woman_! They keep showing those pictures of Cinna and I out to lunch and dinner, or me leaving his place…."

"I'm your stylist," Cinna stated. "And you're my friend. You're allowed to come visit me whenever you want." He smiled at her, and it was obvious he was just as amused as Portia. "Trust me, no one with half a brain believes that you and I are having some hot affair."

At that moment the elevator door dinged, and in walked Haymitch. " _Trinket_!" he barked.

"Honestly, Haymitch, I'm right here. You do not need to yell."

"You're cheating on me, and _you're_ talking to _me_ about manners?"

Effie closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Speaking of people not in their right minds…. "Are you drunk?"

"No. Maybe. A little." He glared at her, his eyes bloodshot.

 _A lot_ , she reasoned, which was made obvious due to the scowl on his face. She sighed, frowning, and excused herself from Cinna and Portia. She beckoned for Haymitch to follow her, which he did. She stalked passed his room and made her way to hers.

"You are ridiculous," mused Effie, closing the door behind her.

" _I'm_ ridiculous?" Haymitch snarled. "Imagine what it felt like waking up this morning and seeing you lip locked with Cinna. I should hit the son of a bitch."

"It's obvious that picture was misleading."

"How is a _kiss_ misleading?" He stalked over to her bar and immediately started fussing with her drinks. She walked up to him and snatched the alcohol.

"I think you've had quite enough. Shouldn't you be meeting with sponsors instead of arguing with me about something that we both know makes no sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," spat Haymitch. "I've watched you two. He's always giving you massages and _touching_ you and you two are always laughing. Not to mention he sees you naked way more than me."

"He's my _stylist_ , Haymitch. Can you stop being so ridiculous?"

"What about that dance you two shared last night, huh?" He stared at her accusingly.

"He danced with me after you'd made it quite clear you weren't going to," huffed Effie.

"So you what, kissed him to get back at me?"

"It wasn't a _kiss_ , kiss." He just blinked at her. "It was just a kiss, Haymitch. It didn't _mean_ anything." He poked out his lip, and she had to refrain herself from laughing. He was _jealous_. He was truly, really, one hundred percent jealous. "I mean a kiss isn't a _rose_ , Haymitch. If you call a rose by another name it'd still smell as sweet, but kisses have different meanings."

"Bull _shit_ ," he snapped. "How would you like it if I went around kissing random women?"

Effie smiled at him. "Brilliant," she said, immediately grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He tried to wrestle out of her grip but she clung on, leading them back to the living room. She placed Haymitch in front of Portia. "Kiss her."

" _What_?" asked Haymitch.

"Kiss her," Effie repeated.

"I bloody well will not. What is this, something to stop the guilt? I'm not interested, Princess." He started to turn away but Effie grabbed him. "Effie, I'm not playing. I'm not about to kiss Portia." He glared at Cinna. "I actually _respect_ my friend's relationships."

Cinna arched an eyebrow. "Oh, are you and Effie dating? You told me you weren't."

"Don't get smart with me," snapped Haymitch, walking towards Cinna. "You're lucky I haven't fired you yet."

"No one's firing anybody," Effie stated. "Haymitch you are being ridiculous. It was just a friendly kiss." She turned to Portia. "Please kiss Haymitch.

Before Haymitch could say or do anything else Portia grabbed his face and placed her lips on hers. It was over in a few seconds, but Effie felt it: the tinge of jealousy in the pit of her stomach.

Haymitch stood there, stunned for a few minutes, blinking rapidly. Then he turned to Effie. "Okay. Point taken. I felt nothing."

"Exactly," hissed Effie, and then she stalked away.

Twenty minutes later she barged into Haymitch's room, closing the door behind her. He was clearly fresh out the shower, and he had the list of sponsors she'd given him in his hand.

"I need you to set up a meeting with Seneca," Haymitch said without looking at her. "I get the feeling I'll need to talk to him at some point." He shook his damp hair, and Effie stared at him. He only had on his pants. Aside from that he was still naked.

"Haymitch," she whispered. He looked up. "I was wrong. A kiss is _not_ just a kiss, and if I ever catch you kissing Portia again, I _will_ kill you."

Haymitch snorted, his eyes darkening. "Is that a threat, Trinket?" He sat the paper down on his dresser and walked up to her.

"No. It's a promise. I didn't like it. I didn't like it at _all_."

"Now you know how I fucking felt." His hands cupped her face as his lips captured hers. "I don't want you kissing Cinna again." His lips were fire on her neck. "I _know_ it was a friendly kiss, but I don't want you in the habit of _kissing_ other men in _any_ kind of way."

"Did you have to announce to the whole world that we have this… complication?"

"I was announcing to Cinna that you were off limits." He hiked up her dress, cupping her center. "Maybe in the Capitol there are different forms of kissing, but it doesn't work that way in 12. I'm possessive, Effie. You _know_ that."

She _did_ know that, and on the rare occasions that she forgot, _this_ is how he reminded her: by taking her against the door or bending her over the bar cart. His hips plummeted into hers with fervor, and she knew he was still annoyed. She cried out his name, moaning softly, and still inside of her he walked them to the bed, where he _really_ had his way with her.

Afterwards he kissed her until her head was spinning.

She wasn't completely wrong, he realized, as his lips continued to capture hers as they came back down from their high. Portia hadn't done this for him. His body hadn't reacted in any kind of way to Portia. The first time he kissed Effie he was inside of her ten seconds later. Her kisses _always_ led to something more. He couldn't help it with her. He _liked_ kissing her, and not just because it led to her withering beneath him or groaning out his name.

Maybe a kiss wasn't a rose, because no other kiss was ever as sweet to him.


	225. Sleeping with the Enemy

_"The Start of The Next World" is the name of TWD multi-fic chap, and the first chapter has been posted. I'd love for you all to check it out and tell me what you think =)_

 **SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY**

 **Rated M**

He froze as his actions hit him—he wasn't sure he had even caught his breath all the way before everything stopped and he was reminded of where he was and what he was doing.

He had just slept with his Escort.

 _Again_.

Haymitch's hands were shaking as he gathered his clothes and darted out of her room, barely even giving himself time to make sure the hallway was clear.

The buzz of sex was still in his head as he entered his room and he leaned heavily against his own bedroom door, trying to catch his breath and calm down.

What the hell was he _doing_?

Once was… once was a mistake. Twice was a decision…. Be it an alcohol-fused decision or not, a decision was a decision. Twice, in one year, a few hours apart.

What had started as a fight had ended up with her pushed up against the elevator, her leg around his waist, his pants low enough to enter her, her skirt high enough to be entered.

They both seemed to come to the conclusion at the same time: they'd just had sex – never mind that it was _good_ – and they would never be able to take it back. He had backed away from her and she had straightened her wig, pulled down her skirt, and left to her room without so much as a backwards glance, her chin up, shoulders back.

Her smile wasn't exactly on….

He'd gone to her room hours later to apologize – he didn't think he needed to at first, he was adamant about that, but mix what happened with a few bottles and he realized he'd just crossed a line that he never should have. Never mind that he never really _did_ Capitols – at least not anymore. Chaff had encouraged him to over the years, and he'd gone along with it for awhile, but it got really _old_ really quickly – they were all the same.

Effie had been… _different_ was too common a word, she had some sort of… effect on him to where he couldn't even stop thinking about it _for one fucking second_.

He not only wanted to apologize he wanted to tell her that he was clean, that he normally always used protection, that she was definitely the first woman he'd every not worn a condom with since Nova, and he hoped he hadn't gotten her pregnant and he thought that that was _laughable_ only there was _nothing_ funny about his Escort carrying his baby.

So he'd barged into her room, and talk about bad timing, because she was definitely fresh out the shower, a fluffy bright pink towel wrapped around her creamy skin. Her hair – her _real_ hair – was damp, its blonde hue dark due to the water, and her face was bare.

His first thought was that if he'd gotten her pregnant and she had a girl, his daughter would be a looker.

Effie closed her eyes, inhaling sharply, and proceeded to count to ten. She had started doing this a few years ago whenever he'd particularly piss her off. Usually by the time she had gotten to ten and opened her eyes he'd grabbed a bottle and was gone.

Not this time.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" asked Effie warily.

"I jus…" Haymitch looked at her, took in those dark blue orbs, and found himself completely speechless. He couldn't understand it. His Escort was _hot_. Why did she have to cover her face with all that _shit_? "You could be from my District, you know that? From the Town."

Effie blinked at him, her eyes searching his. "I am going to assume that is a compliment coming from you, which means you must be sober. You're a mean drunk, so I can only assume you're nice when you're not drunk."

His mouth upturned. "Yah, somethin' like that, Princess."

She stayed silent for a minute. "You are really not going to make fun of me?"

"I absolutely hate your clown mask. It looks ridiculous. You look… _human_. I never thought you were human. You're supposed to be a Capitol puppet."

Human or not her face instantly switched: it was just a flicker, barely noticeable, but she was completely guarded towards him after that.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" she posed the same question as earlier, this time her voice was laced with annoyance.

"I thought I should tell you that I'm clean…. Earlier we didn't… I mean… I don't go around having sex without protection."

She stared at him, unblinkingly. "Good to know. And I know you are worried, but I am on the pill, and have been since I was a teenager. There are no babies coming out of me, trust me." She visibly shuddered at the thought.

"Not exactly the motherly type?" asked Haymitch before he could think about it.

"As if I want to birth a child that would, what, one day be a Head Gamekeeper? Or become an Escort?" She shuddered again. "I won't allow it. I think there are already more than enough Effie Trinket's in the world."

The words had stunned him, and he'd stood there gaping long enough for her to become unnerved.

"If that is all," Effie said, but it wasn't at all, so he took her against her vanity before either of them even knew what was happening.

Somehow they'd ended up on the bed, and then he was scrambling out of bed and into his room.

They never talked about. What was there to talk about?

It kept happening though, and the following year it happened _three times_ , the third time she pushed him back, looked him dead in his face and said, "I don't mind doing this with you, but if we are going to do it, you _will_ please me and _not_ just sod off every time you get yours."

He froze at that and she took that as her cue to start moving her hips and _move her hips_ she did…. She told him where to go, what to do, and it didn't bother him, he was actually more turned on than ever, and when she came he felt the sweetest satisfaction, as if he'd earned a prize.

He knew he was in deep _shit_ the following year, during the 60th Hunger Games when he felt like shit because his Games were _everywhere_.

He'd been mean and nasty that year and had pushed her away for the first few nights. It wasn't until their Tributes had died that she'd come up to the Penthouse, tears in her eyes. He was on the couch, drinking, and there were two of her approaching him so he knew his vision was blurry.

She wasn't shy, she wasn't prim and proper, she wasn't _anything_ except determined to get at him. She climbed on top of him and he tried to push her away – not that he didn't want her, it was getting to the point that he actually _always_ wanted her – but she was _drunk_ out of her _mind_ , he could see so even in his inebriated stated.

She wouldn't be deterred, though, and she clawed at him, pushing him back so that she could ride him. She'd never been on top before, he didn't like relinquishing that much control, but she insisted, and she was stronger than she looked.

His eyes flared when she told him to _stop fighting_ and then she lifted her skirt and sunk down on him, rocking furiously.

He thought he might let her lead after that.

Things probably got a little out of control, and he was a little rougher than he meant to be, but she didn't seem to mind. They battled for domination until he pinned her to the couch, his face buried in her neck.

She let out a scream as she came that had him damn near positive he'd impregnated her.

It was _different_ for them after that, but he'd never admit it, even as he realized she was falling for him. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't stay away, so he kept sleeping with her. As the years passed her feelings grew. His did too but he was a master at keeping his feelings at bay – feelings got people you cared about killed, so he learned how to keep his feelings to himself.

It was the 65th Hunger Games when she asked him, quietly, in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped around her – and how'd it gotten to that was beyond him.

"Do you love me?"

He jerked, badly, and she immediately stiffened. He didn't speak, unsure of how to tell her that _no_ , he was incapable of _loving_.

She turned away from him and he took that as his cue. He slipped out of bed, gathering his clothes, and that was the last time Effie touched him for two years.

She got engaged to Seneca during the 67th Hunger Games, showing up on his doorstep with a diamond big enough to feed all of his District.

He was _dumbfounded_ , not that she'd moved on but that he had let it get this far. Last year they spent the entire time avoiding each other's presence, being around her made him _miss_ her, but he wasn't about to allow himself to fall for a fucking Capitol.

He attempted to have a few one night stands but it didn't _work_ , they weren't her and he wondered if she was as miserable as he was….

The engagement ring proved that Effie Trinket was just fine.

And he watched her parade around countless Capitol parties with Seneca on her arm, and it took everything in him not to hit the bastard with his _stupid_ beard.

Haymitch thought for sure he was going _crazy_ , especially when he barged into Effie's room after a week and he pushed her against the wall.

She didn't even put up a fight, and he knew then that she had missed him as much as he missed her, and she clawed at his back and screamed his name and it all sounded so good and familiar that it didn't take long for him to lose it.

"Fucking get _rid_ of him, Effie, or so help me God he will wind up missing."

She nodded, she didn't even argue, and she straightened her dress and left him before he could even walk again. When she returned she came to his room and climbed into his bed, the engagement ring gone.

He couldn't stop it if he wanted to.

He _liked_ sleeping with the enemy.


	226. Of Death, Memories, and Moving On

_HEY YALL! SOOOO MY WALKING DEAD MULTI-FIC STORY IS UP! I WOULD LOVE, LOVE, LOVE ALL OF YOU TO FOLLOW ME OVER THERE AND LEAVE PROMPTS/SUGGESTIONS JUST LIKE YOU DO FOR HAYFFIE. IT'S RICHIONNE-CENTRIC BUT THERE ARE_ _PLENTY_ _OF OTHER CHARACTERS TO WRITE ABOUT TOO! I SO LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING ALL OF YOU OVER THERE. I MIGHT DO SOME HG/TWD CROSSOVERS OVER THERE AS WELL. WHEN YOU HAVE THE TIME, CHECK OUT "MUST'VE BEEN SOMETHIN' ELSE, THEN" AND START LEAVING REVIEWS/PROMPTS! YOU GUYS ARE SO AMAZING. THANKS IN ADVANCE._

 _-NOW BACK TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM-_

" _You're doing a really good job with these one shots! I was wondering if you can write fic where haymitch's family and girl are still alive. Effie becomes his escort and haymitch ends up in love with two women. Maybe he goes to his ma for advice. Maybe add Snow for angsty feels." -Avikingandhisheartbrokenqueen_

 _Ya. Changed this all the way up._

 **OF DEATH, MEMORIES, AND MOVING ON**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch stared at Effie, his thumb on her cheek, their eyes locked. They were closer than they'd ever been before, but honestly, it wasn't a surprise. They'd been skirting over this line for quite some time now.

She was beautiful, and she always got his heart pumping and his blood flowing. He rarely met someone that could match him wit for wit, and he remembered after their first argument he'd walked away impressed.

He'd won, of course, but she still had given him a run for his money, and she'd only gotten better as the fights got worse and the years went on. It was something about pissing her off that made him happy, only after five years together, there were suddenly lines that couldn't be crossed.

They couldn't _hurt_ each other anymore. It was against the rules, and the list of rules was growing. It started with not talking about his Games. Somewhere along the lines he'd learned not to call her a Capitol bitch. She was a bitch, certainly, but not a Capitol. That much he knew. And they never, ever talked about the sexual tension, the _attraction_ they had to each other.

Maybe if they had, this moment wouldn't be as difficult.

They were fighting—they were always fighting. She had said if maybe he had _tried_ _their_ Tributes might have been given the Trident. He'd laughed and went and poured himself another drink. She'd stood there, in the middle of the floor, her tight yellow dress hugging every delicious curve, and truly looked defeated for the first time.

"I'm _tired_ of losing, Haymitch," she had stated quietly.

"And you think I'm not? You think I _like_ going back home with coffins of dead children? You think I _like_ having to apologize to parents? I fucking _hate_ it." And he threw his glass against the wall. "It's just a loss to you, but to me it's a _life_. It's another dead body, picked by _your_ hand. Your hands wouldn't be any less bloody if we finally had some damn winners, Princess."

She'd allowed him his outburst, and he knew he'd gone too far. They didn't mention her job. He knew her well enough to know she hated it. She'd confessed as much to him during the 60th Games, when he'd beaten _her_ home. He had found her in front of the elevators the next morning; face down, asleep in a pool of her own vomit. She was knocked out cold and he'd had to call a doctor Chaff knew to get her treated. He'd asked her why, and she had said it was because she hated herself.

It was the first time he saw her behind her mask.

It was easier to read her now. She was hurt. He had hurt her. He did that at least once a year, without really meaning to, but doing it anyway. His ability to hurt her stemmed from the fact that she was very much in love with him.

He couldn't figure out why.

If he had known being nice to her would cause this… if he had thought that by understanding her, seeing her as a human being meant _this_ … he'd probably have thought twice about it.

She walked to the wall, bending down and picking up his glass. Sighing he walked over to her and helped her. Together they made their way to the trashcan.

"I'll get an Avox to clean up the rest of the glass," she said softly, and she started to walk away, only he grabbed her and forced her to him.

"I didn't mean it," stated Haymitch. "You know I didn't."

"I know." Such a soft admission, and it had him shifting. He should let her go, he knew, but he didn't. Instead his hand traveled up to her cheek, caressing it softly, and his bright grey eyes met her dark blue ones.

Finally, after fourteen years, his lips met hers for the first time.

He thought he'd died, and he'd never believed in a thing like heaven, only it must be real, because he was here, right now, right at this moment. He put his entire soul into the kiss, without even meaning to, because it was _right_ and _wonderful_ , it was better than liquor, and he didn't know he could get better than liquor, but it was, because this bought pleasure, and all he knew was pain, all he remembered was pain, pain ever since his mother, and his brother, and his—

Haymitch jerked and then stiffened, immediately stepping away from his Escort.

"I can't do this," he mumbled, and without so much as another word he was walking away, heading towards his room, a bottle in his hand before the door was even all the way shut.

"Haymitch."

He jerked at the voice, his head whipping towards his window.

His mouth dropped open.

" _Mom_?"

She smiled at him. "Hello, Haymitch."

Welp. It finally happened. He'd finally truly lost it. He was looking at his very dead mother, who looked pretty much exactly as he remembered her: short light brown hair, dark grey eyes that were almost black, and the most beautiful shade of olive skin he'd ever laid his eyes on.

"What the f—"

"You watch your mouth around me, boy," she snapped, and Haymitch kept his mouth shut. "I don't have a lot of time. I just wanted to talk to you about Effie."

" _Effie_?"

"Yes. She's… different."

Haymitch snorted. "That's an understatement."

"She's a good different, Haymitch. Just the sort of person I would have expected you to bring home to me." Haymitch just sat there, staring at his mother. "You like her."

"She's _Capitol_."

"Yet you didn't deny that you like her." Haymitch turned away. "I don't care that she's Capitol. What I care about is the fact that she cares about you. She may have started out shallow and superficial, but you've changed her. Now let her change you. I don't like seeing you like this."

"But I killed you."

" _You_ did no such thing. President Snow had us killed. I expect you to avenge our death, but I don't expect you to kill yourself in the process." Haymitch looked away from her. "You're still holding on to Nova."

Haymitch jerked violently.

"I know it's painful, but… you have to let us go. Especially her. You know I wouldn't have approved of her. That's why you never told me about her. That's why you never bought her home."

"Don't," Haymitch said. "You don't… you didn't know her."

His mother gave him a sad smile. "Neither did you. You were but a child, and you were young and in lust. It wasn't love, Haymitch. You _have_ love, though I think you're too drunk to realize it. Nova has moved on. She's in a better place. She wouldn't resent you for moving on."

"I'm not about to move on with a bloody _Escort_."

His mother stood, approaching him, and Haymitch's breath caught in his throat. "Then make her a Rebel. She's already halfway there."

He thought he was very much losing his mind, but he left his room and made his way to Effie's. He didn't bother knocking. He just walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

She was clearly fresh out the shower, a towel draped around her body. She didn't have on a stitch of makeup, and though it wasn't his first time seeing her like this, she looked even more vulnerable than before, because she'd always still had on some part of the Capitol mask: the wig, or the dress, or the lipstick, or the powder…. He'd never actually seen her as just Effie.

"Haymitch? Are you okay?"

He didn't answer her question, but approached her, pulling her to him and crashing his lips to hers. She stiffened against him for a few moments, and then melted into him.

"Are you drunk?" she whispered.

"Not so drunk I don't know what I'm doing." He pushed her back, forcing her to bump into her vanity and he was all over her. He didn't even bother taking off her towel. He just hiked it up and started fumbling with his pants. Apparently he was way too anxious because Effie had to take over for him, and he obliged, relinquishing control until he pants were low enough for him to push himself into her.

The strangled noise the two of them made when he sunk into her both thrilled and embarrassed him. The fact that he couldn't pump in and out of her fast enough both confused him and had him begging for more. He rocked his hips into hers, knocking over her bottles of perfumes and pretty things.

He bent forward, palming the mirror for deeper penetration, and she arched her back and came. He stared at her, shocked, as her hips started to meet his, and he found himself having to keep up. The two of them battled for several moments, her body flush, until she cried out again, his name spilling from her lips, and her body jerked its release.

He let out a string of curses as he felt his body react, and before long time stopped. He threw back his head, convinced that he had never experienced pleasure like this before, and couldn't help it: without meaning to he moaned out her name, ejaculating himself into her until his hips stopped pumping on their own accord.

Breathless he buried his face in her neck for several moments. Her body relaxed into his and he could feel her heartbeat slowly start to return to normal. He waited several more moments to unwrap himself from her.

"That was…" Effie's voice trailed off, and she blushed, furiously, and trying to maintain as much dignity as she could, she tightened her towel around her front and pulled it down so her thighs were no longer exposed.

" _That_ was only round one, Princess," stated Haymitch.

She looked at him for a few moments. "Thank _God_." And with that, she dropped her towel, tugging Haymitch to the bed.


	227. The Art of Dressing Alike

_A/N: GUYS! So I am not abandoning the Hayffie ship, BUT my attention IS elsewhere with Richonne. SO. I'm not gonna stop posting/writing. I'm just not going to post as often. I'm toning this down to once a week. I'll post every Monday. Just a heads up. While you're waiting, you can check out two new stories: "The Start of the Next World" and "Must've Been Somethin' Else, Then."_

* * *

 _Here's your Monday post:_

" _I was watching a segment on buzzfeed where couples are hooked up to lie detectors. I would love it if you could do one where Effie and Haymitch are hooked up to one, and basically they confess their feelings. Thanks!" –Guest_

 _Took me FOREVER to come up with a plot for this one. This prompt was left quite a few months ago and I finally came up with a storyline._

 **THE ART OF DRESSING ALIKE**

 **Rated T+ for harsh language**

Haymitch paced Effie's room, scowling.

"What is this, payback because I won't claim you publically?" snarled Haymitch.

Effie rolled her eyes – the worst habit she'd picked up from her Mentor – and shot him an amused look. "I am not that childish or petty," she assured him.

"Then _why_ are you even going through with this? It's utterly ridiculous."

"It is a _distraction_ , Haymitch, it will give the Capitol something to focus on other than our Tributes." She stood in front of her vanity and grabbed a tube of lipstick "Besides, with the right kind of attention it might get us some more Sponsors, and we could use that."

"It's _dangerous_ , Princess," Haymitch argued. "If anyone suspects how I feel about you…."

"Haymitch _you_ don't know what you feel about me, how will anyone else figure it out?"

"You're a _bitch_ ," he told her, and she smiled. "Wipe that _stupid_ smirk off your face. This isn't a game."

She turned and faced him. "Haymitch I am a PR mastermind; I know what I am doing."

"I'm putting my foot down on this one, Effie. _I'm_ the Mentor, _you're_ the Escort, I'm canceling this _stupid_ interview."

"If we don't do this they will only keep talking," disagreed Effie. "I know how to handle this, I am talented at deflection, no one will ever suspect a thing. It is _fine_."

"There is nothing _fine_ about you going on live television wrapped up to a machine that'll tell all of Panem if you're lying, _when you're planning to lie_."

"I don't plan to lie. I have learned from the best over the years, I've hung with you, Chaff, Finnick, and Johanna long enough to know how to answer things the way that I want without giving anything away. Will you _stop_ worrying? All this arguing will do nothing but make me late, and then I will be annoyed. All you have to do is straighten your tie, sit there and look pretty, and let me do all the work. Basically it's another day at the office."

She started to walk passed him but he grabbed her arm. She stopped and looked at him.

" _Trust_ me," she stated. "I have never steered you wrong."

He let her go and the two of them headed down to the interview.

…

Haymitch glared at Cinna, and the stylist stared back, his eyes dancing with amusement. Haymitch didn't see what was so funny. In his mind this whole thing was Cinna's fault. He and his partner – _girlfriend_ – had been dressing him and Effie alike ever since Katniss and Peeta won. _He_ hadn't noticed, but all of Panem had, and the rumors refused to die down: were they a couple, were they not, were Effie and Haymitch also _star-crossed lovers_?

It was _ridiculous_ , he and Effie fooled around every now and then – okay, more often than not lately – but that was _it_. _Why_ the entire world seemed to want them together was beyond him, but every time he turned on the television _somebody_ tended to mention them.

And it was _all Cinna's fault_.

"You two need to be seen as a team now," Cinna had told him when Haymitch confronted the designer. Haymitch had no doubt he could take the younger Capitol but he was as stubborn as a bull and refused to be deterred. Every time he and Effie had to make a public appearance they were dressed alike.

 _Couples_ dressed alike. Him and his Escort were _not_ a couple.

Never mind the fact that some photographer had caught them in a pretty compromising situation a few days ago. He was drunk – what else was new – and yah, okay, his hands _might_ have been all over Effie – and so were his lips – but he was _drunk_ and he was horny and she'd looked _good_. He got that dress off of her in fifteen seconds, it was a new record he was quite proud of.

Leave it to the Capitol to ruin what was an epic night. The next morning he found himself on the front page of _every_ news magazine, not to mention on every channel. He was wrapped around his Escort, his hands gripping her ass, and his lips were _definitely_ on her neck. Effie had her hands on his chest and she was laughing – she was particularly ticklish in that spot, and he very well knew that, it was one of his favorite places to lick, suck, or bite.

They'd never gotten caught before and he was livid, but Effie, ever the clever one, knew exactly what to say – he was off balance, and drunk, same as usual – and she did so without batting a single eyelash.

Now she was on stage, a million and one cameras on her and she was about to tell the world their business.

At least that was his fear. She was pretty confident she'd do no such thing.

Caesar Flickerman was on stage looking like a candied apple in a bright red suit. His lavender ponytail had splashes of red in it and Haymitch thought he looked even more ridiculous than ever.

Effie looked stunning next to him. She had taken to wearing gold – they were, after all, a _team_ – and he had to admit that it was a good color on her, even if it did turn his stomach in knots. The thought of her pledging his allegiance to him, to Katniss and Peeta, to the Rebellion, scared him more than he was willing to admit.

"Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen to _The Lying Game_ , _Quarter Quell Edition_." Haymitch's thoughts were interrupted by Caesar's voice, and the crowd erupted as the theme music started. "I am here with our _favorite_ model turned Escort, Effie Trinket." Effie flashed a smile and the crowd went even wilder.

He felt someone next to him and knew at once it was Chaff. His best friend grinned at him.

"What are you doin' here?" asked Haymitch.

"President Snow himself could come down here and tell me that if I missed this I wouldn't have to go back in that Arena, and I'd get my name pulled _again_. I wouldn't miss this for the world. I might finally get some much needed answers. I'll die knowing if my best friend has been lying to my face, and for how long he's been doing it."

Haymitch took a deep breath and took a sip of his drink.

"Now you all know why we're here," Caesar claimed, and the crowd cheered again. "Ms. Trinket has decided to tell all of Panem just what is going on with her and her Mentor, Quarter Quell Victor Haymitch Abernathy, Winner of the Second Quarter Quell and 50th Hunger Game."

It took everything in him for his face to remain straight.

"Things seems to be heating up between you two," Caesar said to Effie.

"Really?" asked Effie. "However so?"

"Well for one, you two have been dressing alike as of late." At that moment a picture flashed in the background. It was the night Peeta and Katniss had won, they'd spent the entire night thanking Sponsors and having interviews.

He remembered that night.

Effie looked _hot_.

She was dressed in a tight maroon top that showcased her breasts and shoulders. The bottom half of her dress was a high-waist, floor length, poofed out black pleated skirt. He was dressed similarly in a white button up with matching maroon bottoms and black shoes.

He had her with that outfit on and off.

"What do you have to say about this night?" asked Caesar.

Effie smiled. "Victory is sweet." The crowd laughed. "And I would like to point out that we are not dressed alike. Our outfits compliment each other, there is a difference."

"Well how about these?" Several pictures flickered, all of him and Effie in matching outfits at various events over the past year. "You two dress alike _a lot_."

"Is that a crime?"

"Of course not, but it is awfully suspicious."

"I thought it was normal for Escorts and their Mentors to dress alike."

"Yes, after a win. But it's been more than a year. Trust me, I did my research. You and Haymitch have dressed alike more than all the other Escorts and Mentors combined."

"Those other Escorts are not as fashionable as me. Fashion is my life, I am sure you all remember." The crowd clapped and Caesar smiled.

"Well it seems like you have an answer for everything. Let's just get down to it."

"Yes, please," Effie said.

"Let's get you all hooked up." The crowd chatted as they hooked Effie up the machine. Haymitch could feel Chaff looking at him but he ignored him. "Okay, we'll ask a few test questions. Question one: what is your favorite color?"

Haymitch tensed as he took a look at Effie. She was caught off guard. _How could she be caught off guard at_ _ **that**_ _question?_

She blinked and then smiled. "Pink," she stated.

The man running the test shook his head.

"Oh, Ms. Trinket. It seems we aren't starting on the right foot. It looks as if that is a lie. I will repeat the question. What is your favorite color?"

Effie took a deep breath. "It's such a boring color, I am almost embarrassed. It is grey, actually."

Haymitch felt a swoop in his stomach and tried not to scowl as Chaff elbowed him.

"That seems to the the truth," Caesar claimed. "Next question: who is your least favorite Victor?"

"That one is easy: Johanna Mason." The crowd held their breath.

"That is true. Last test question: do you miss modeling?"

Effie didn't hesitate. "No."

"That is the truth. Let's get started." Caesar turned to the crowd. "This is where it gets juicy." The crowd laughed. "Are you and Haymitch in a relationship?"

"Yes: he is my Mentor and I am his Escort."

"That's true," the technician stated.

"Do you _like_ Haymitch?" asked Caesar.

Effie flashed a bright smile. "Sometimes."

"Inconclusive," the technician said.

"Same question, then: do you like Haymitch?"

"When he is likeable." The crowd laughed.

"Which is when?"

"Not very often." Haymitch gritted his teeth as Chaff snorted, but he felt his mouth turn up.

"Do you find Haymitch attractive?"

Effie shrugged delicately. "Of course I do, along with any other woman who's ever seen his Games."

"He is rather handsome, isn't he?" cooed Caesar.

"Alas, I do not think you are his type." The crowd shrieked and Chaff laughed loudly.

"Are _you_ his type?"

"Haymitch has no type," Effie brushed away.

"Have you and Haymitch ever _kissed_?"

"Seriously? He can't stay off of me, didn't you see the tabloids the other day? But can _you_ blame him? I certainly don't, I mean look at me."

A few men in the crowd whistled. Some stood up and clapped.

Haymitch bit the inside of his jaw to keep from smiling. She was clever, he'd give her that.

"You _are_ , after all, Effie Trinket," Caesar agreed.

"That I am."

"How would you have felt if Haymitch was going back in that Arena in a few days?"

An unnatural silence followed that question, and Haymitch had the mind to end the interview right there and then. Effie looked stunned for a second, and he willed her to keep her cool. He couldn't save her in this case.

"Devastated," Effie finally stated quietly, and Haymitch could feel the camera on his face so he remained completely still. No one would suspect his insides were on fire. Effie cleared her throat. "Devastated, but completely confident in his abilities to do what he needed to do to win and/or protect our current Tributes."

The crowd cheered and the technician raised his hand to silence the crowd. "That was her most honest answer," he told the crowd.

"Moving on," said Caesar lightly. "Ms. Trinket: have you ever had a sexual dream about Haymitch?"

"I rarely dream, Mr. Flickerman." Caesar turned to the technician and he shrugged. Truth.

" _So_ … if you haven't _dreamt_ about Haymitch, have you ever slept with him?"

"The Victory Tour was _exhausting_ , I cannot tell you how often we fell asleep at the table or on the couch, I am afraid I have lost count."

 _This_ time Haymitch couldn't quite hide his grin. She was _good_. Really good, especially because he suspected she was remembering all the things they did on the Victory Tour, on that table and on the couch.

"Have you and Haymitch ever _made love_?"

Effie arched an eyebrow, a smile on her face. "Never."

The crowd held their breath and the technician gave them a thumbs up.

 _Truth_.

"Have you ever dressed Haymitch?"

"Every day he is in m presence. I can't trust him to do that sort of thing on his own, he is horrible at it. Truly." The crowd laughed again.

"Do you shop for Haymitch?"

"Often."

"How do you know his size?"

"It's my job to know."

"Have you ever undressed Haymitch?"

"On several occasions, he can hardly tie a tie, how can I expect him to take it off?"

"Has Haymitch ever seen you naked?"

Effie smiled sweetly. "In his dreams, I am sure." Haymitch rolled his eyes.

 _Bitch_ , he thought.

"Do you think Haymitch loves you?" asked Caesar.

This time Effie threw back her head and laughed. "Haymitch is incapable of loving anything or anyone other than liquor. He has told me so on several occasions."

"Do you believe that about him?"

Effie stared off into space for a few seconds. "No. I believe Haymitch loves Katniss and Peeta as if they were his own, and will do everything in his power to get them out of that Arena alive again." She turned to the crowd. "With _your_ help of course." She sent the crowd a wink and they all cheered.

Caesar waited until the crowd had died down again and then scooted forward. "And in regards to you? Is Haymitch capable of loving you?"

Effie tilted her head towards Caesar. You could hear a pin drop. "I think Haymitch is capable of doing anything he sets his mind to. He is the most brilliant man I know."

"That's not answering the question."

Effie turned towards the technician. "Did I lie?"

"No, but your response isn't exactly an answer."

"What are you two hiding, Effie?" asked Caesar. "It's a simple enough question: is Haymitch capable of loving you?"

Effie smoothed out her skirt and looked at the camera. "No." Her voice was firm but her face was masked.

She was hurt, Haymitch could tell.

"Well you've got her fooled," Chaff whispered, and Haymitch spared him a glance. "It's _her_ truth, not yours." Haymitch kept quiet.

The crowd waited as the technician read the results. "That's the truth."

"Good. I suppose we can put these silly rumors to rest, then?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and fake, but only Haymitch could hear it.

"We're almost done. What's your favorite memory with Haymitch?"

This time Effie paused for a long time, and Haymitch arched an eyebrow. She was slightly tense, he realized, and he wondered what her answer would be. He wouldn't like it, he already knew. "When he was crowned Victor. Everyone loves an underdog."

Her voice was soft, and he imagined she was thinking of the boy he was, young, cocky, still quite innocent. He'd been _happier_ then. He still had had something to live for back then.

"That leads me to my last question: do you love Haymitch?"

Effie smiled at Caesar and batted her eyelashes. "I do not hate him," she stated sweetly.

Caesar laughed along with the crowd and stood up. "Effie Trinket, ever the charmer. From our results I don't think _any_ of our questions were really answered, but I don't know what else to expect from you. You could make a lawyer tell the truth."

"I try my best," sang Effie. "It's been a pleasure." She smiled at the crowd and waved.

"Well that's all we have. I'll stand by what I said earlier: Katniss and Peeta might not be our only star-crossed lovers. Only time will tell. Good day, folks."

Effie stepped off the stage, Cinna right there to help her down. He squeezed her arm and she grabbed his hand. The two of them headed towards him.

"Nice job, Princess," Haymitch murmured. She gave him a strained smile that had him frowning and he watched as Cinna and Effie met up with Portia and headed back towards the Penthouse.

"Take her to Thirteen," whispered Chaff, barely moving his lips.

Haymitch took a deep breath and followed behind his Escort and stylist.

She wasn't in her room but five minutes before he barged in. He was all over her and he didn't know why, but she was responsive. He pulled her to the bed and fell on top of her. She didn't even let him take off his pants before she was dry humping him. He got them low enough to enter her and he had to kiss her to muffle her scream.

Sometimes it took great effort not to cum in seconds with her.

Afterwards she slid off of him, breathing hard. In a rare display of affection he pulled her to him.

"I thought your favorite memory of me would be getting the kids to win," he told her.

"Please. That is my favorite memory of _them_."

"So your favorite color is grey?" mocked Haymitch, and she stiffened. He pulled her to him. "Don't be like that. It's not like my favorite color isn't _blue_." He spat the word, clearly irritated.

"That is the difference between you and I," she stated crossly. "You mind, I do not."

"I don't mind all that much." He nibbled on her collarbone until she relaxed, and then he sighed, caressing her hipbone. "We need to talk."

"We _don't_ ," Effie snapped, sitting up. "I do _not_ need another lecture about how you do _not_ feel, thank you very much. I have worked _very_ hard to try and keep my feelings at bay, it is _you_ who keeps coming on to _me_ , you know. Right when I think I have gotten you out of my system you come back, and then I'm _laying_ on my back." She crossed her arms, whether annoyed or trying to protect herself he didn't know.

"With your permission I'd like to talk now," stated Haymitch, clearly annoyed. She flicked a gaze at him, her own eyes blazing, and he sat up and tugged on her hair. "I'm protecting you, whether you realize it or not."

That lone statement seemed to deflate all the fight left in her. Her entire body sagged and she leaned into him. "I know."

He pulled her to him and forced her face to his. His mouth covered hers in a move that he had perfected over the years. He lost count of how many years he spent trying _not_ to kiss her, and then one slip up and he couldn't get enough of her lips.

He _liked_ kissing her.

"I don't only love my liquor anymore, okay?" He felt like he was proving himself like a child trying to be validated. How could she not know now? Okay, so he didn't say it, he never said it, but she should _know_ by now. "You lied to Panem when you said that."

"Are you trying to tell me you love me without actually saying it?" asked Effie, and he should have known that statement wouldn't be enough for her.

He grinned mischievously, unbuttoning the front of her shirt for better access.

"I'm _saying_ , Princess, I don't hate you."

Her entire body seemed to kiss him then, so that by the time he entered her he'd have made a liar out of her twice.

Tonight he would make love to her.


	228. Girl Chat

" _Prompt: Post MJ Katniss and Peeta are just getting started, bring up some - ahem - sexual questions on Katniss's end. Katniss, out of desperation, asks Effie to describe what an orgasm feels like and how to know if she has one. Heavy Haymitch/Effie (maybe flashbacks to Effie's first orgasm - which hopefully was with Haymitch) and a nice dose of Effie/Katniss friendship/big sistership. Thanks in advance! You rock!" –Guest. This was quite difficult b/c I can't see Katniss asking Effie this, but I thought it'd be great to try_

 **GIRL CHAT**

 **Rated T+**

Katniss walked into the house, her eyes sweeping around the living room. She found Effie on the couch, _knitting_ of all things, and even though Effie had been knitting for months now, it was still hard for Katniss to take seriously.

"Hey, Effie," Katniss said softly, still glancing around. "Where's Haymitch?"

"Upstairs showering," stated Effie, giving the girl a warm smile. "He just got in. I can tell him you stopped by or you're more than welcome to stay and wait."

"Actually… I'm not here for him. I'm here for you."

Effie stopped knitting and stared at Katniss. Now that she was paying attention it didn't take Effie long to realize that Katniss was nervous. She kept glancing up towards the stairs as if she were afraid Haymitch might come down any minute.

"Katniss, dear, what is it? Did you and Peeta have a fight?"

"No." Katniss got to the couch and plopped down. "We're good. _Really_ good. Really, _really_ good, actually." Effie kept her eyes on Katniss. "Better than ever, actually." Effie arched an eyebrow, slightly amused.

"So what can I do for you, Dear?"

Katniss bit her lip, and her grey eyes made their way towards the stairs again. "I need to ask you something. But first I need to tell you something."

"Okay." Effie put down her knitting. "You have my full attention."

"Peeta and I…." Katniss' voice trailed again, her teeth sinking into her lips, and she shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Effie felt like she knew where this was going, but she waited the girl out. "PeetaandIslepttogetherlastnightnight."

Effie folded her hands into her lap. "Would you like to try that again but speak clearly?"

Katniss took a deep breath. "Peeta and I slept together last night." Her voice was soft, her face red.

"Was it your first time?" Katniss nodded, sitting down across from Effie so that she was facing the stairs.

Effie wasn't quite sure how she felt. On one hand, Katniss was a grown woman. She'd experienced more things than anyone else Effie knew, and if anyone was mentally old enough to have sex, it was her. However, she was very much like a daughter to her, and if Effie had had a daughter she would certainly feel some type of way about her having sex. She figured Katniss had come to her because she _wasn't_ her mother, so she would not scold the girl.

"How was it?" Effie finally asked.

"Well… that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about." The girl blushed again, and Effie smiled encouragingly. "Listen, I know a thing or two about sex, okay? My mom is a nurse, and I've read plenty about it. It was… nothing like the books. In _any_ way."

Effie blinked at Katniss. "What do you mean?"

Katniss huffed, glancing upstairs again. "Like in _every_ way. That kind of pleasure can't be _written_ about. But… there was also something else I read about that I'm not sure happened."

"And what's that?"

"I can't believe I'm about to ask you this." She was the color of scarlet, and acting so much like a child that Effie started to second-guess her decision to be okay with all of this. It wasn't all that easy for _her_ , either. Katniss covered her eyes and blurted out, "How do you know if you've had an orgasm?"

Effie's mouth dropped open at the question. Now _that_ she wasn't expecting. No wonder Katniss was so nervous and didn't want Haymitch to overhear them.

"Oh my," and now it was Effie's turn to blush. "Well… the truth is… you just _know_."

"So you've had them before?"

" _Have_ I?" Effie nearly laughed. "Yes, I would say I've had my fair share of them over the years." Katniss frowned and Effie scooted up. "But it took me _years_ to have my first one."

"So it's an age thing?" asked Katniss hopefully.

"Not exactly," Effie responded. "It's an experience thing. Back when I was with Seneca, he never made me orgasm."

Katniss gaped. "You were with _Seneca_?"

"That was before I was a Rebel," waved Effie dismissively. "It is a mistake I still regret to this day. We were together for two years, and we were actually engaged. That was the year of Haymitch's Games. Needless to say by the end of them, I had called off the engagement. But he never made me cum. Not once. He certainly _tried_ , but… it just wasn't there for me. It never was."

"Well… what about before?"

"There was a guy I was dating in high school. We dated all four years, and we slept together for the first and last time on graduation night. I did not orgasm then, but not a lot of women do their first time."

"So I'm not… broken?"

" _Broken_? Katniss, of course not. Plenty of women have trouble reaching orgasm. It doesn't mean anything's wrong with you, or your partner. But keep in mind you and Peeta just got started. He has to learn what you like, _you_ have to learn what you like…. Talk to me after a few months, once you learn your body and you start to teach Peeta."

Katniss looked away from her for a while, clearly lost in thought. "So when's the quickest you've ever…."

"I came within a few minutes the first time Haymitch and I slept together." Effie saw it, briefly, just a simple flashback, of Haymitch picking her up, slamming her on top of her vanity, and practically screwing her brains out, all within a matter of minutes.

Katniss' mouth dropped open. " _Haymitch_? You've slept with _Haymitch_?" She clamped her mouth shut, like she was about to be sick.

Effie blinked at the girl. "What do you think I'm _doing_ here?" asked Effie.

"I thought… oh _God_ …. I thought you were giving me and Peeta _space_ , because we've still been trying to figure things out, and that's why you stayed with Haymitch. You guys don't still… I mean that was just that once?" She sounded so hopeful that Effie almost lied to the girl.

Almost.

"Do _not_ be ridiculous, Katniss. Haymitch is _more_ than qualified to satisfy me, and has done so _very_ consistently for a little over ten years. No other man has come close to pleasing me the way Haymitch does. Peeta could learn a thing or two." Effie sat back and started knitting again.

"But you and _Haymitch_? _Ten years_? I thought you two _hated_ each other."

"I do hate him. He gets on my nerves every single day. Half the time I want to hit him over the head with one of the bottles he used to drown himself in. But I also love him, very much, and he loves me too."

"And you… _finish_ with him?"

"Yes," nodded Effie. "Not always. There were times he used to be selfish too. I had to teach him what I liked, and half the time I was figuring it out myself. Other times he did things I had no idea I liked until he did it. But it didn't take long for him to catch on, and I've been more than satisfied every since."

"Okay stop. This is weird. It's hard enough talking to you about this as it is, but I never thought you and Haymitch…." She shook her head. " _Gross_."

"I suspect it is, because he is like a father to you, and no child wants to think about their parents having sex. But Haymitch and I do, a _lot_ , and we enjoy each other, and have done so all over this house."

Katniss stood up immediately, shuddering. "I can't. I'm sorry I came over and asked. Peeta and I will figure it out." Katniss was out the door so fast that Effie didn't even have time to tell her she was joking. Well she wasn't but she had meant it as a joke.

With a smile on her face Effie made her way upstairs. Haymitch was fresh out the shower, slipping on his pants, his shirt still off. Effie bit her lip, looking him over. All these years and he could still make her panties wet. She closed the door and he arched an eyebrow. She didn't say anything. She just pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him.

"Do you remember our first time?" asked Effie, taking off her shirt.

Haymitch snorted. "Of course I do. Didn't you cum in like two minutes?"

"Not _two_ minutes," Effie stated, working on the pants he'd just put on. Like two and a half, but she wouldn't tell _him_ that.

"It was like two and a half. Three max." Effie huffed as she lifted her skirt. "It's 'cause you'd been pining after me for years."

"It's true." She sunk down on him, immediately rocking her hips, and he hissed, cursing softly. "It took us _forever_ to sleep together, and by the time we finally did it the sexual tension was high." She started moving faster against him, and he gripped her hips. "You did not last that long, either."

"I hadn't had sex in like fifteen years. What's your excuse?" His taunt was breathless and didn't have the affect he wanted. It was hard to mock her when she was currently riding him.

"I'd never had dick so amazing in my life."

His body jerked and he came, both shocked and turned on at her language. "Well fuck me," he said, and he pushed her down, placing his mouth between her legs to finish her off. "You did that on purpose," he exclaimed once she'd reached her peak. "You _never_ talk like that."

"Serves you right for trying to make fun of me." She buried her face in his neck and he drew lazy circles on her lower back.

"What brought all this on?" asked Haymitch. They were no strangers to random sex, and they both had a high sex drive. On average they could go three or four times a day, but usually something sparked it: a fight, a certain touch, a _look_ , a dream. They didn't just randomly enter a room and start undressing the other, and they definitely didn't do so with questions about their sexual escapades during the Games.

Those weren't supposed to count.

Effie shrugged. "Does it matter?"

He frowned. "I suppose not." She wasn't usually evasive, but he let it go. Or at least he tried to. "Okay it does matter."

Effie laughed and rolled back on top of him. "Let's just say girl chat, and leave it at that, yes?"

" _Girl chat_?" He had no idea what that meant, but decided at once he didn't _want_ know.

When Katniss poked her head in the door a few months later, calling Effie's name. Effie looked up from the movie and locked eyes with the girl that was so much like her daughter. Without even stepping inside Katniss said, "Remember our discussion several weeks ago?"

"Of course, Dear," and Effie didn't even remind Katniss about how _rude_ she was being, which Haymitch thought was strange.

"Well we're good. _I'm_ good."

Effie beamed. " _That_ is good to know." Katniss smiled, waved goodbye, and disappeared.

"What was _that_ about?" asked Haymitch.

Effie just smiled at him, resting her head back on his shoulder. "Girl chat," she replied.

Once again, he didn't want to _know_.


	229. Role Reversal

**ROLE REVERSAL**

 **Rated M**

Their voices were raised, their faces flushed, their bodies tensed. She couldn't even remember what they were fighting about anymore. She knew terrible things were said—terrible things were _always_ said—and she knew that they could hurt each other— and that was certainly new, having the ability to hurt each other. They hadn't quite mastered how to not cross certain lines yet, but it was coming.

Things were changing.

And some things, she realized, as she hurled the glass at his head, would never change.

The silence that followed when the glass connected with the wall, shattering to a million pieces, was magnified. She saw the glare in his eyes, the scowl on his face, and she tilted her head to the side, as if almost challenging him to say something.

He marched up to her, his face dark. "You are the most annoying Capitol—" He'd have called her a bitch if her lips hadn't crushed his. It shocked him, because usually it was _his_ move.

He found it even more shocking, and equally as thrilling, if not more, to have _her_ coming on to him.

He was even more surprised when they actually made it to her bedroom.

He would have happily taken her against the living room wall, only they had two stylists who came in and out of the Penthouse now, and they didn't have the privacy they used to. He didn't have time to make it to the bed—and they'd certainly spent enough time on the bed lately—so he pinned her against the wall.

"You are insufferable," she hissed as she unbuttoned his shirt.

He smirked. "Should I stop?" She bit his ear, and then her lips traveled down to his neck, where she sunk her teeth into his neck. "I'll take that as a no, then."

"I don't ever want you to stop." The admission was probably a mistake, but they'd had their fair share of slip-ups over the years, particularly in the heat of the moment. They'd decided that what was said while they were doing _this_ didn't count, even if her words made him even harder.

He pushed himself into her, making her gasp, and then her head flew back, her eyes closed as she let out a low moan. He watched her as his hips jerked into hers, and then her hips started moving against his.

She tightened her hold on him, crossing her legs at her ankles. It forced him to go in deeper, and he growled, burying his face in her neck. His lips acted on their own accord and he left a trail down her neck.

"You should have just told me you wanted me to fuck you instead of getting me all riled up," he told her.

"I didn't," whispered Effie.

"Yah? Then why'd you kiss me?"

Her eyes popped open and she glared at him. "To shut you up."

His hand gripped her breasts, making her cum. "Really? I think you've wanted me all day."

"That's why you should leave the thinking to me."

He snorted, his lips on hers before he could stop himself. She always did that. He didn't understand it. He hated her, was supposed to always hate her, yet here he was, screwing her brains out instead of drinking to his heart's content.

Effie let out a not-so-subtle cry that had him speeding up. When she called out his name he placed his lips on hers again to quiet her, knowing she was about to climax again. Their flesh slapped together and a curse escaped his lips as he lost control, and the two of them came together, swallowing each other's moans with a kiss that had been practiced and perfected.

They slid to the floor, and he decided he was much too old for this shit.

"That'll teach you to go off crying in the middle of dinner for _Seneca_ ," he spat.

Oh yah. That's what they'd been fighting about.

"You are the biggest idiot in all of Panem," breathed Effie. "As I was _trying_ to explain to you, Seneca was my _friend_."

Haymitch snorted. "He wanted much more than friendship, Princess."

"As you so often remind me," Effie sighed. "I _know_ how Seneca felt about me. I did not share his feelings. You _know_ that."

"I don't know that. I don't know what you were up to when you're in the Capitol and I'm in 12. What I _do_ know is you were engaged to the bastard."

Effie huffed. "Like a _million_ years ago, Haymitch." She sat up, her eyes flashing. "And what do you mean you don't know what I do when you're not here? You made it quite clear you didn't want me to see anyone else when I told you I was engaged."

He shifted at the memory. It'd been one of their worst fights to date, because he'd been confused, and he didn't do well confused. They were having some pointless fight, and per their routine, he'd kissed her to shut her up, only instead of melting into him, as her custom, she stiffened.

"Seneca and I are engaged," she had told him, and he'd stood there, frozen. He _knew_ Seneca. He'd seen them dancing together over the years, and if it was anybody he'd been worried about, it'd have been him. Only admitting that he was worried about Effie with another man wasn't something he'd been too keen on thinking about, so he ignored it, and this was his punishment.

They didn't talk for a year. He literally had nothing to say to her. He _hated_ her, but even more he hated himself, because he'd been too foolish to either claim what was his, or stop it before he'd gotten in too deep.

He'd called her every name in the book, a slut, a whore, a cheating Capitol bitch, and she had slapped him so hard he saw stars. "We never made each other any promises," she had hissed. "You never said… I mean we never talked about… I don't _belong_ to you. I didn't _cheat_ , Haymitch. I'm not a _cheater_. If you wanted me you should have said something. I've done nothing wrong."

"I _don't_ want you," he had spat. "You two work. The Capitol Escort and the wannabe GameKeeper. Maybe he'll favor our District and kill them even faster so our Tributes won't suffer."

It'd caused the mother of all fights, and they still hadn't had one worse than that one. Insults were hurled, objects were thrown, tears were spilled, and alcohol was drank, but for once it didn't end with her underneath him, because she _wasn't_ a cheater. They didn't say a single word to each other for a whole year, until he caught her dancing with another guy, and she was flirting with him.

"You're being awfully rude to Seneca, aren't you?" he'd asked her later on in the elevator.

She'd jumped at his voice, and had nearly forgotten what it sounded like. "I am not with Seneca anymore," she said, her voice slightly strained.

He'd nearly found himself back down in the lobby, the doors almost closing on his shocked face, until he regained movement in his body and stumbled out of the elevator.

He was back inside of her by the next morning.

"I don't want you seeing him anymore," he had mumbled, still deep inside of her. "I don't want you seeing _anyone_ anymore."

"And you?" asked Effie a few minutes later, her voice almost unsure.

Haymitch snorted. "I think that goes without saying, don't you?"

That had been years ago, and now here he was, having the same argument with her about the same Capitol idiot. Even in _death_ he couldn't escape Seneca.

"I don't understand why you had to be his friend." Haymitch was well aware of the fact that he sounded like a pouting child, but he couldn't _help_ it.

"I knew the man my entire life. I was sad he was killed, even if you couldn't care less." She was annoyed again, he realized, which was made obvious when she snatched his shirt from underneath him and slipped it on.

It was quite hot, he told himself, as she walked around in his shirt, its length barely concealing those long legs. Sighing he got up.

"Can we stop fighting please?" He walked up to her, taking off the very wig she was attempting to straighten. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his still naked body to hers. "I'm sorry your friend is dead, okay?" He kissed her neck, his hands cupping the swell of her breasts. She shuddered softly.

"I do like you possessive, Darling," she purred, turning around to face him.

He wasn't being possessive, he thought as he sunk into her again, this time against her vanity. He was jealous, and it was a female trait, but he couldn't _help_ it. He was in so deep, and it should have been sickening, only it wasn't.

She'd made him soft, he realized. More than that she'd made him care about things like other men and what she did when they weren't together. Wasn't this supposed to be _her_ job? Shouldn't _she_ be the one asking him questions about where he was and what he did and could she really trust him when he was drunk?

He couldn't for the life figure out how their roles reversed, but most of the time, he didn't think it even mattered.

Long as she continued to feel the same way.

 _A guest prompted this ages ago: "_ _Hi! I have enjoyed reading all of your one shots so much! I have a prompt idea I've been thinking about. What if Haymitch and Effie are together then for whatever reason break up and she starts dating Seneca? Jealous Haymitch but also maybe comforting her after his death? And them finding their way back together?" I wasn't really interested in doing this, yet somehow, this story took on a similar tone as the prompt, so I'm saying this is the prompt, even though the prompt didn't exactly inspire the story (hence why the prompt's at the end instead of the beginning)._


	230. First Day Home

**_HELLO MY HAFFIE BABIES! I AM CHANGING MY USER NAME, FYI. I WILL NO LONGER BE THAMOCKINGJAYANDPEETA, BUT IDCABTTHISISH. JUST A HEADS UP._**

 _More Ash, because he's THAT KID! This is a continuation of Welcome Home (Chapter 23)._

 **FIRST DAY HOME**

 **Rated K**

"Thank you, Peeta," Effie said. "You can sit it down right here." Peeta did as he was told, sitting her suitcase filled with Ash's things.

"You're welcome." Peeta grinned at Ash, who smiled back politely. "Welcome home, Ash."

"Thank you," the little boy said. Peeta waved goodbye to Haymitch and Effie and left them alone for the first time with their son.

"Would you like to see your new house?" asked Effie.

"It's big," said Ash, looking around, and Effie smiled.

"You know what else is big? Your room. Want to see it?" Ash nodded, his eyes bright.

"Come on, then. I haven't seen it either. Daddy says he fixed it up just for you."

"Well the boy helped," said Haymitch, suddenly nervous. He only remembered being this nervous when he'd asked Effie to marry him.

They all made their way upstairs, Ash still in his arms, and made their way to the farthest room in the house. Haymitch stood outside of it for several moments, literally just blinking at the door. Effie touched the small of his back and he finally took a deep breath and opened the door.

He took Ash gasping and sliding out of his arms and running into the room as a good sign.

"Haymitch," breathed Effie.

"You can't say anything, Princess," Haymitch muttered. "You went _way_ over budget for the rest of the house."

"No, I mean…." Effie stepped inside, looking around. "It's _perfect_." Her eyes filled with tears as she took in the room. There was a full-sized bed with a hovercraft bottom. The room was full of yellows, blues, and creams, and Effie recognized Peeta's strokes with a hand-painted mural on the largest wall, along with Katniss' penmanship. The mural was of a hovercraft, flying in the sky, with the words

" _If you were born without wings,_

 _Do nothing to prevent them from growing."_

 _-Coco Chanel_

There was a desk, framed letters sitting on top of it. It sat under a large window, letting in a ton of natural light. On top of the desk were miniature hovercrafts that varied in size. There was a large bookshelf across from the bed, the top half full of books, the bottom half filled with toys. Wooden hovercrafts, painted different colors and also varying in sizes, hung from the ceiling.

"You went above and beyond," whispered Effie.

"I _love_ it," Ash said, running up to Haymitch. "This is the best day _ever_." He ran to the desk, looking at the hovercrafts. "Can I touch these?"

"Of course," said Haymitch. "They're yours."

"This is the best room ever." Haymitch watched, a cross between amused and transfixed as he watched Ash take in everything. He saved his bed for last. He walked up to it, brushing the covers with his fingertips. When his son fingered a blanket Haymitch stepped forward.

"Your grandmother made that for me when I was born," said Haymitch. "It's the only thing I own of hers." The only thing he'd kept, at least, that hadn't smelled like smoke and fire and death and destruction. He'd kept it hidden away for years, boxed up, until now. His and his brother's blanket.

It was navy and grey, and the whole inspiration for the room.

Effie felt her eyes well with tears and quickly excused herself. Haymitch let her go.

"I get to have it now?" asked Ash.

Haymitch squatted down so that he was eyelevel with his son. "You're the only one I'd give it to."

"Do I get to keep this too?" Ash touched the beanie that was still on his head, and Haymitch grinned.

"Sure, Ash." He felt a lump in his throat and cleared it away. "So what would you like to do first?"

Ash shrugged, looking around again. "I don't know where to start."

"Well you can do whatever you want. It's your first day home, kid."

"I think being home is good enough for now. Really I just wanted to be with you. Let's go find Mommy." And then Ash was running out the room. Haymitch slowly stood up and followed his son, intent on remembering every moment of his son's first day at home.


	231. Seeing Them Together

**_This story's not dead. A LOT'S been happening. Had finals. I moved from TX to DC. Still trying to settle in. Looking for work. Thought I'd post some Hayffie. Missing you all!_**

* * *

 ** _"_** _There are a lot of fics with effie coming home to haymitch and his reaction but not a lot with the kids reactions to first seeing them together when she does come home for the first time. Like maybe because he won't let her out of his sight for the first couple of days so the first time she visits the kids he's there. –Staceyyyy."_

 **SEEING THEM TOGETHER**

 **Rated K**

Peeta heard a faint laugh and a dark chuckle from outside his window. He frowned and paused from putting on his sweatpants, and then approached the window when he heard it again, this time the laugh even louder.

Peeta glanced out the window, staring into Haymitch's backyard. He was out there, which wasn't at all that unusual. The fact that he was out there with a blonde woman threw Peeta for a loop.

She was beautiful, Peeta noted, and there was something vaguely familiar about her. Peeta peered out, taking in the fact that the woman was draped around Haymitch's arm, and he was introducing her to his geese. He was pointing at them, and the whispering in her ear, causing her to laugh again.

It was a real laugh, and it carried all the way up to him, so that he finally placed who the woman was. His mouth dropped open as he took in her appearance: soft yellow hair, pale skin, and a simple dress. She had her arm intertwined around Haymitch's, and he held on to her with the same firmness and possessiveness he used when he was gripping his bottle of liquor.

After a few more minutes Haymitch guided the woman back towards his house, where they stepped inside and disappeared from view. Peeta stayed glued to the spot he was in for a few more minutes until he was finally able to move again.

He flew downstairs and into the kitchen, where Katniss was cleaning game. She turned to him, her signature braid swinging, her dark eyebrows raised.

"Effie's back," he told her.

…

Peeta and Katniss waited a little over a week for Haymitch to say anything, only he never did. He had taken to locking his door, something he'd never done before, despite the fact that he slept with a knife and was one of the most paranoid individuals Peeta and Katniss had ever known.

He'd also taken to leaving his phone off the hook so that if they tried to call, his line would be busy. Peeta and Katniss didn't push it, even though Katniss was worried.

"They hate each other," Katniss told him one night. "If Effie's here because she hated the Capitol, like we think, then Haymitch isn't gonna help her." She spooned some soup into her mouth, but Peeta kept quiet.

He rarely disagreed with Katniss, unless it came to love. She was blind to it. Peeta was pretty sure he remembered some… _things_ between Haymitch and Effie, particularly on the Victory Tour. Those memories didn't seem too shiny, but sometimes it was hard to tell. For the most part Peeta thought he remembered lingering looks, timid touches, small smiles….

"There's a reason she went to Haymitch and not us," stated Peeta. "Give her time. She'll come around."

"And if she doesn't?"

Peeta gave her a smile. "We'll break in."

…

It turns out they only had to wait a few more days before Haymitch finally walked into their house.

"Effe's here," he exclaimed, sitting down at the dinner table.

"We know," stated Katniss, lowering her fork. Haymitch looked surprised. "Peeta saw you two outside feeding your geese."

Haymitch smiled fondly. "That was her third night here. She needed… fresh air." There was a story there, both Katniss and Peeta noted, but they were pretty sure they wouldn't be privy to that information. "She wants to see you guys."

"We wanna see her," Peeta said earnestly.

Haymitch nodded. "We'll have dinner at my place tomorrow, yah?" Katniss frowned and Peeta just stared. "You two can cook, okay? Just bring it over." With that he was gone, leaving the two of them alone again.

Time seemed to crawl as they waited for the next night to come around. They were both anxious to see Effie, and neither of them were sure what to expect. They had been warned once earlier that day by Haymitch to _not_ walk on eggshells, but the knowledge that Effie had been there for two weeks and they were just now seeing her was something to ponder.

They didn't knock on the door but just barged in, as was their custom. No one greeted them in the living room, and they called out for Haymitch and Effie as they placed the food down onto the table.

The backdoor opened, and in walked Effie, followed behind Haymitch.

The four of them seemed to be frozen in time for a few seconds, before Katniss softly breathed out, "Effie," and then was in the blonde woman's arms. The two women hugged for several moments, Peeta noting the soft smile on Haymitch's face.

Haymitch didn't _smile_ , yet he was certainly doing so a lot lately.

Peeta took the time to look around as Katniss and Effie embraced. Haymitch's place was cleaner than Peeta had seen it since he'd been back in 12. There were no broken bottles, no trash or throw up. The house even _smelled_ better. The furniture was changed around too, making it even more welcoming.

Effie had definitely left her mark.

But Haymitch's house wasn't the only transformation. Effie was different. Even while he was still in the Capitol and Effie was visiting him she still wore the costumes and wigs. Yet her eyes were still vacant, her smile still forced.

 _This_ Effie, though, Peeta assumed was the _real_ Effie, and she was stunning. Her hair was done, with a certain shine to it tonight that he hadn't seen when he saw her from his window upon her arrival. Her eyes were still vacant, but there was warmth radiating from them, and her smile was bright and genuine.

Peeta kept a close eye on her all night. He knew better than anyone the signs of faking it, of trying to get better and be better for the sake of the other people. Her hands tended to shake as she lifted her fork to her mouth, or pat down her hair. Though she had seemed sincerely happy to see them at first, as the night progressed he started to see the strain in her smile. Her laugh became less authentic, and it didn't take long for her to start playing with her food as opposed to actually eating it.

Still, Effie pressed on.

Sometimes Effie and Haymitch joined Katniss and Peeta for dinner, other times the two groups ate separately. But they made a great effort to eat together at least a few times a week, and Peeta noticed that the next day Effie was always shut up in her room.

Eventually she started getting better.

Peeta figured it had everything to do with Haymitch.

They made each other better. He didn't drink as much, and after a while the vacancy in her eyes all together disappeared. It took them six months to have their first argument, but after that, things seemed to be back to normal for them.

Save for the way Effie tended to lean into Haymitch's touch, or the way she rested her head on his shoulder if they were watching a movie together. Peeta started to lose track of how many times he'd walk into their house before he headed to the bakery only to find them wrapped around each other on the couch.

On days that Effie had bad days—and she had finally stopped acting like she didn't have them; they _all_ had them, and the four of them didn't need to lie to each other—Peeta would notice the way Effie would be tense, her smile mechanical. She would be tense during dinner, her shoulders and smile tense.

Then her blue eyes would glance to Haymitch, and he'd give her a soft smile, and she'd relax.

It made Peeta wonder if they were holding hands under the table.

It wouldn't surprise him. They touched each other a lot, and it always seemed to calm Effie down. It's what she needed: calm. And somehow, Haymitch provided her with that.

They used to worry about them, Katniss more so than Peeta, but after a while, Peeta knew all he needed to know. Seeing them together answered every question he might have had.


	232. The Four Letter Word

" _I really want to read a fic where Haymitch comes to the realization that he's in love with Effie when he finds out she's been taken by the Capitol. I know it's been done but I always wanted something just a little fluffier, where they profess their love for each other when she is rescued... –Mkr." Difficult, b/c Haymitch isn't fluff._

 **THE FOUR LETTER WORD**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch had a thing for alcohol. It was something that always supplied, no matter what. He didn't have to do anything except allow it to work. Granted it did take a lot more for it to work, at least it used to. After several months without it he certainly found himself _feeling_ it a lot quicker. Quicker than he had in years.

Consequently, it meant that forgetting didn't take as long.

He was most grateful for that. He was tired of _remembering_. He'd been _remembering_ since that last night, the night he left her. He thought going through withdrawals was bad: she was _everywhere_ , in his dreams, as a hallucination, constantly in his head. He couldn't escape Effie Trinket to save his life, no matter how hard he tried.

And then he'd been told that they couldn't find her, that she had just _disappeared_ , and suddenly she was all he could think of.

He'd searched the Capitol himself. Every single nook and cranny of this God-forsaken city he'd looked, but she was nowhere to be found. Gone. Vanished. And suddenly he could do nothing except think of her.

For twenty years he'd been with her. He'd spend most of the that time hating her, even as he slipped in between her legs and eventually into her bed. There were moments he thought she was nothing but a puppet, a Capitol bitch, then there were other moments he was sure she was a Rebel.

 _His_ Rebel.

Still, he'd left her behind, because he couldn't handle and deal with his Escort in 13. Coin would have never allowed it, and when he heard about Katniss' prep team being imprisoned he figured he'd made the right decision. He'd have slit Coin's throat with his shaky hands if he'd found his Escort tied up like some _animal_.

Turns out much worse had probably been done to her.

She was tough, his Escort. She'd proven that by putting up with him for all those years. He'd never succeeded in truly hurting her, though he'd certainly tried over the years. It'd been several years since the last time he'd seen her cry, though he knew she hurt. She was _human_ , and he wasn't sure how to accept that, only he had to learn. In finding out that she was human he'd made the mistake of _falling_ for her, though he'd never told her. He had told himself when this was all over he'd tell her truth, only now it might be too late.

 _This_ is why he didn't love, he reminded himself.

He didn't even know _when_ he'd fallen for her. He just remembered one not-so-drunk night, taking her to bed, and waking up a few hours later, his arms draped around her. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep in her room. The sex was so damned good and exhausting that as he got older is started to happen more often.

This particular night her beauty had shocked him, and it was something about the way her hands were clutched in his that had his breath catching in his throat. He'd brushed his hands across hers and she'd stirred, sighing softly. She'd shifted, opening her unfocused eyes, and gave him a soft smile.

"Stay," she had requested.

He'd snorted. " _Bossy_ ," he had responded, and then he'd climbed on top of her and _made love_ to her, though he probably should have left, because then he wouldn't be in the President's Mansion, drunk out of his mind, missing the very woman he had started off hating.

He'd heard there was a thin line between the two, and he was the living proof.

When would he ever learn? How many people did he _love_ would have to _die_ before he got it?

"Haymitch!" Plutarch was out of breath as he ran up to Haymitch. The drunk barely spared the former GameKeeper a second glance. He just took another drink from his bottle. "They've found her. They've found Effie."

Haymitch, never one to let a drop of liquor go to waste, dropped his bottle.

 **XxXxXx**

He was afraid to approach her room, and stalled for two days. For someone who had lost the little mind he had left at the news of her disappearance, he took a while to finally see her.

He had no idea what he would say, or what he would do.

What would _she_ say or do?

After a while Haymitch finally opened her hospital door and walked inside.

She wasn't as bad as he thought. She had bruises, but they were fading. It didn't stop the anger for consuming his soul—not in the least, and he couldn't hide the scowl on his face. If he _ever_ found out who'd taken her and held her prisoner….

She was frailer than he remembered. She'd always been tiny—it'd made sex with her both fun and easy. Picking her up was simple, and most of the time her dresses weighed more than her. Still, despite her size, she could pack a mean punch, and he'd definitely been on the receiving end of those hits.

Now, though, as he looked at her, she didn't look as healthy. Though she'd been small, she had had curves in all the right places. He could see none of that underneath the thin, white sheet covering her body. But at least her chest was rising and falling.

Haymitch reached out for her hand. There were bruises on her arms, and he swallowed the anger, pushed it down and tried to ignore it. He stared at her petite fingers. They'd spent a fair amount of time scratching his back, though her nails were nowhere to be found now.

"Effie?" whispered Haymitch, and as if she has sensed his presence, she immediately stirred. Her eyes blinked open, and he's greeted with dark blue orbs, vacant and full of sorrow.

Recognition flickers into those blue eyes, briefly, and then her eyes are fluttering closed again. He gripped her tighter, almost afraid that if she goes back to sleep she'll never wake up again.

She opened her eyes, and licked her lips.

"Princess," said Haymitch, and he lowered himself and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

"Haymitch," she breathes softly. "You're okay." He wasn't. Not in the least. He was far from okay. "Katniss? Is Katniss—"

"She's alive," stated Haymitch. "We're all alive."

Effie paused for a minute. "But not okay."

Haymitch wouldn't lie to her. He was _done_ lying to her. "No. We're not okay, Princess."

She gripped his hand back. "Me either." Haymitch inhaled sharply. "Will you help me be okay again?" Her voice broke at the end, and he had to swallow the lump forming in his throat. Haymitch Abernathy didn't _cry_ , not even tears of anger.

"Of course I will."

Effie forced a smile and let his hand go. "I am tired."

"Then rest."

She nodded and closed her eyes for few moments. Haymitch grabbed a chair and sat it down next to her, convinced he'd never leave her side ever again.

"Can you say it now? What you couldn't say before you left?"

Haymitch's breath caught in his throat. He looked at her, stared into those blue eyes that he hardly recognized, despite the fact that he'd stared into those eyes for twenty years.

He knew what she was talking about. Their last night together… the night Katniss had blown up the arena and had forced the entire plan to _hell_ and back, when he thought he'd have more time to tell her…. He had _tried_ to tell her, but the words wouldn't form, even if they were on the tip of his tongue.

Effie _needed_ the words now, he could tell. She was broken, battered, and bruised, and Effie Trinket wasn't meant for that. She was strong, yes, but she hadn't been created to be _this_ strong. She'd need something to keep her going, and what would do it better than the four letter word that would have made this entire thing worth it to her?

Haymitch reached out and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, and the fact that she could still do that should make this even easier, but it wasn't easy. He hadn't said that word aloud to anybody in twenty-five years.

Still, she needed something, and damn it, she _deserved_ it. He took a shaky breath. He could do this. He _had_ to do this. For her.

"I love you," he told her, and he found it wasn't like swallowing a box of nails, but that it was rather easy.

She smiled at him. "Good. Because I have loved you back for a very long time, and have waited just as long to hear you say it."

He figured that four letter word was long over due, on both their parts.


	233. Home

**HEY YALL. I'M NO LONGER TAKING PROMPTS FOR THIS STORY, BUT I AM OH SO APPRECIATIVE OF ALL OF YOUR LOVE FOR THIS STORY. IT HAS TRULY BEEN MY PLEASURE. I STILL HAVE SEVERAL STORIES TO POST, SO I'LL POST THEM AS I REMEMBER TO. NOT GONNA LIE, I HAVE BEEN PREOCCUPIED WITH SCHOOL, WORK, AND RICHONNE. IF MY MIND CHANGES IN REGARDS TO PROMPTS, YALL WILL BE THE FIRST TO KNOW =]**

" _It occurred to me that if Haymitch brought Katniss home, why couldn't Effie bring Peeta home? It's not stated in the book, but that doesn't mean it couldn't have happened, right? I just kept thinking of Peeta saying to Haymitch, "Effie brought me home to Katniss and I brought her home to you."" -_ _karmicsamadi86_

 **HOME**

 **Rated T**

Peeta walked into Haymitch's house to find a familiar sight: Haymitch, passed out on the table, an empty bottle of liquor on the floor next to him. His knife was in his hand and his snores filled the room.

Like old times, Peeta walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bucket, filled it with water, and threw it on Haymitch.

It was almost comical how he reacted: a scream on his lips, his knife slashing the air, and him scoping out the living room, waiting for an attack.

When he realized it was only Peeta, Haymitch lowered his knife and stared at his Tribute.

"You're back," he slurred.

Peeta nodded. "Yah, I am."

They stood in silence for a little while, Haymitch staring at the boy who probably felt betrayed. He looked better than he had the last time he'd seen him: he had gained back most of his weight, his skin had healed – or the Capitol had fixed him up, one of the two – and his hair was blonder and thicker than ever. He looked _healthy_.

Haymitch could imagine he looked like _shit_ : his hair was probably matted, his hadn't shaved in what felt like weeks – or it could be months, he had lost count of the days since he'd last left the Capitol – and he couldn't remember the last time he'd changed clothes, let alone showered.

"You better?" asked Haymitch.

"Wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Yah, well, Coin released you when you weren't better, so…" Haymitch shrugged.

"Paylor nor Dr. Aurelius are Coin."

Haymitch nodded, grabbing his fallen bottle. "Touché." He attempted to get another drop out of his empty bottle and truly seemed disappointed that there was nothing left.

"I wouldn't try to drink anymore if I were you," Peeta told him.

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't you be worried about Katniss?"

"I'm always worried about Katniss, but I worry about you too. You're my Mentor, and I knew you'd be back on the road to self-sabotage, so… I bought you a gift."

"Oh, a bottle of the Capitol's best liquor?"

Peeta grinned. "I bought you something better than liquor."

"Better than liquor?" Haymitch snorted and walked towards his cabinet, pulling down another full bottle. "Is there such a thing?"

"I think so."

"Yah?" snarled Haymitch. "What?"

"She's not a what. She's a who."

Haymitch stilled suddenly and then turned around. "You didn't." Peeta just arched an eyebrow. " _Why_?"

" _Why_?" Peeta scoffed. "Maybe because you love her."

Haymitch didn't move, aside from forcing his face to be completely blank. "You're butting in shit that has nothing to do with you, boy."

"I beg to differ. Effie's my _friend_. She came and visited me every single day, and she's pretending to be okay when she's not. I thought maybe you two could help each other. I know what you mean to her, and what she means to you."

"She doesn't mean—"

"Stop _lying_ ," snapped Peeta, a scowl on his face. "I don't care that you lied to me and Katniss. I get why you did that. But lying to yourself… I mean what good does that really do you? Effie needs us. Who else does she have left? But she especially needs you."

Haymitch grabbed his bottle and screwed off the top. He stared at it for several minutes before sitting it down. "Is she really here?"

"I wouldn't lie about something like this. She's at my place. She bought me home to Katniss, and I bought her home to you. Don't blow this, Haymitch."

…

He wasn't sure what to expect when Effie walked into is house, but to see her with no makeup and wig or ridiculous costume wasn't what he expected. He'd seen her that way before, but only in the dark of night, and those nights were few and far between.

Aside from her being _el natural_ her blue eyes were so _empty_ that he could hardly look at her.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word. What could he say? He'd already told her that he was sorry. He'd said everything that his mouth would allow him to say six months ago before he'd left back to Twelve. She had been cold and distant and he couldn't blame her, but she'd still wished him well and kissed him goodbye.

He didn't think he'd ever see her again, but he'd certainly thought about her every single second he was without liquor.

Some of those days were painful, so he'd bought the geese, only they hadn't exactly helped. They took care of themselves so they weren't the distraction he needed.

He'd never imagined she'd be standing in his living room again, but he'd still made the effort to clean himself up and look halfway decent.

They looked at each other until the silence became unbearable. Finally he gave her his signature smirk.

"Hello, Princess," he said, and that seemed to break the spell. She whispered his name and then was in his arms in seconds, sobbing uncontrollably. He was taken aback for all of ten seconds until he realized he should probably _do_ something, so he wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.

He figured it was her first breakdown since being rescued from that cell.

"'S'okay, Princess. You're okay."

He lost track of how long they stood there, Effie crying and Haymitch trying his best to comfort her. He didn't do comfort well, but he thought he could learn for her. He'd damn sure try.

As time passed Haymitch could see Peeta digging in Katniss' front garden. The boy was back, and if Katniss and Peeta could find their way back to each other, he and Effie certainly had a chance.

She clung to him until her sobs quieted down. After awhile she cleared her throat and push him away, but he held onto her, burying his face in her neck. She tried again to push him away but he just gripped her tighter. She stopped trying and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He didn't want to let her go.

She felt like _home_.


	234. The Firsts

**MY HAFFIE FEVER HAS COME BACK TEN FOLD. IDK WHERE IT CAME FROM, BUT HAVING THE HUNGER GAMES PLAY ON FREEFORM CERTAINLY DIDN'T HELP. THERE'S NO WAY I CAN BALANCE RICHONNE AND HAYFFIE SO IT LOOKS LIKE I HAVE SOME DECISIONS TO MAKE. THIS STORY STILL ISN'T OVER, FOLKS. MISS YOU ALL.**

* * *

 **THE FIRSTS**

 **Rated M**

She still remembered that first time.

She'd woken up to a heavy arm around her, a warm body pressed against hers. It took her a few minutes for that to register: she felt… _good_ , she thought, relaxed… content. Her brain was still in that in between stage of sleep and alertness, but there was this feeling of… satisfaction that she couldn't quite place.

A soft snore in her ear had her stiffening.

She _knew_ the body next to her, she'd worked with the owner of this body for five years. He smelled like he always did: like liquor, musk, and coal, and she could tell he was as naked as she was.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she was sore in all the _right_ places. Her body was languid, she felt light on her feet, she felt _good_ , damn it.

The fact that she felt good because of Haymitch Abernathy was a different matter all together.

"Shut _up_ ," he growled, pulling her closer. "I can hear you thinkin'. Don't say a word, just go back to sleep, and when you wake up I'll be gone and we'll both pretend like it never happened."

She took a deep breath, attempting to do as she was told, even as she started to panic.

 _She had slept with Haymitch_.

 _How_ was the only question she wanted to answer.

She knew _why_. Despite the fact that he was crueler than anyone she knew there was something about him…. The way those bright eyes always undressed her, the way that firm mouth was always turned up in a smirk, the way his touch tended to always make her shiver….

But she was the utmost professional, the fact that she was _attracted_ to him had nothing to do with the fact that she hardly _liked_ him – they were sworn enemies and had been since the first day she'd showed up to his house as his Escort and he'd called her an ugly bitch and had tried to make her life a living hell from that day on, especially when he realized she would not quit.

He could hurt her like no one else, and how he'd gotten that power was something she had never quite figured out. But she had a certain power over him too, she knew she did, because he never could quite keep his hands off of her, especially when he was drunk.

He'd always been tempting, she realized, but she would never fool around with him if he wasn't sober enough to do so, and as time passed she told herself she'd never cross that line with Haymitch.

He made it rather easy, especially since he'd made it quite clear that he didn't do Capitol bitches.

Apparently that changed last night.

The splitting headache she got when the sunlight hit her face instantly reminded her _how_ last night had happened.

They were drunk, both of them, she had stumbled into the Penthouse with more liquor inside of her body than she'd ever had. For the first time she was drunk out of her mind, her vision blurry. He was on the couch, two empty bottles on the table and the third one pressed to his lips as he took her in, stumbling about.

Their Tributes had just been killed _again_. Mix that with the fact that his Games were airing all week – it had been ten years since he'd killed eight people, ten years since Maysilee had died, ten years since his family and girl were murdered – and he was having a drinking contest with himself.

Effie had come up to him, a million apologies on her lips, tears in her eyes, and for the first time he saw the strain being an Escort was for her…. A mask, all of it, and he could never see it until now, so he offered his bottle and they drank together.

They drank _a lot_.

At some point he'd pulled at her wig.

She had let him.

He'd taken his thumb and tried to take off her makeup but it wouldn't budge, so he asked her if she would strip for him.

"Fine. My career makes me ugly, might as well let you see _how_ ugly underneath," she had stated.

Drunk Effie was much easier to get along with, she'd grabbed his hand and they'd made their way to her room where she used her creams and tubes to peel off her mask.

He wasn't sure if it was the amount of time it took – _forever_ – for her to get her face off, or if it was the cold water being splashed on her face but when she finally showed herself to him she looked _too_ human: insecure, sad, wounded, and hurt.

He _saw_ her for the first time, really saw her.

He handed her a glass a wine to calm her nerves. She gulped it down and he told her he was impressed, both with her looks and her ability to hold her liquor.

She smiled and then attempted to walk, and nearly fell flat on her face.

He'd caught her and really that was all it took – any reason to touch him was enough for her, and any reason to hold her was enough for him. They were all over each other, his hands were all over her body, her lips were all over his and they couldn't get out of their clothes fast enough.

He wasn't inexperienced, he'd had his fair share of one night stands during the past ten years but this was… the realization that it felt like _this_ with _her_ made him worry that something was _right_ with them.

Her suspicions were confirmed, of course, he was as good in bed as she feared he'd be, he had the power to unravel her and undo her and she was afraid she'd never get it back.

It didn't stop him from taking her a few times before sleep consumed them.

It didn't stop her from letting him.

True to his word when she woke back up a few hours later he was gone. She was staring at herself in the mirror, the evidence of last night… _everywhere_. Her lips were swollen, her neck was red and she had love bites all over: neck, thighs, stomach….

They didn't discuss it. Talking about it would make it real, and it couldn't be real. She was just as annoyed with him as she was before, and he was just as mean as he used to be.

He wasn't cruel anymore, though.

She was actually caught off guard when it happened again the following year.

It was another argument – arguing was what they did best, at least after sex, because it was mind blowing _again_ – but he was in her face, she was in his, and then her body was sandwiched between him and the wall, and it was over and done so quickly the only reason she knew it had even happened was because she was breathless and lightheaded.

" _Shit_ ," he spat, zipping up his pants, and then he was grabbing a bottle and was gone. She was still up against the wall as if he was still pressed into her, or some invisible force kept her there.

Again, they never talked about it, but it certainly kept happening, more and more frequently as time went on.

The first time he ever gave an inkling that he felt more than lust for her was during the 69th Hunger Games.

"Do you love him?" It was a simple enough question, she should have been able to answer it with no problem.

"It's complicated," had been her response. He stared at her for a long time, ignoring the large diamond on her hand, and then left without another word.

The sex stopped for two years until she showed up one year with no shiny ring. He refrained from asking her about it – maybe she was getting it shined or maybe she was getting it cleaned. He knew it was neither of those when she climbed on top of him and rocked her hips into his.

That day was the first time they'd kissed.

The first time she was actually welcomed into his home was four years after the war. They lit their first fire together and toasted some bread six months later.

It was the last time she ever left.


	235. Confessions

**_ALERT! ALERT! I'M DOING A NEW HAYFFIE MULTI-FIC! AHHHHHHH IM SOOOOOOO EXCITED YALL! It'll be based on my story Protecting Alisa (chapter 191). I cannot WAIT for yall to read it! I told yall my Hayffie fever was back, and I was serious! I'll be posting the 1st chapter soon!_**

* * *

" _I can't remember if you've done one similar to this (You are 160 chapters into this!) but, what about a drunken confession from Haymitch to Effie. Either an 'I love you' or a 'Marry me' that takes her by surprise. A confession that she wants to reciprocate, but ignores because she assumes he doesn't mean it and won't remember it. However, he DOES remember the next day and can't NOT think about it, especially since she hasn't said anything about it." -karmicsamadi86_

 **CONFESSIONS**

 **Rated M for smut**

Effie hated pain. She hadn't been _made_ for pain. She didn't like pain, she wanted nothing to do with pain, she wasn't here for pain.

But some pain… was worth it.

Haymitch bought pain.

But he also bought a whole lot of pleasure along with it.

In this particular case, the pleasure outweighed the pain.

Effie whimpered, loudly, digging her nails into Haymitch's back. He grunted, speeding up, cursing softly as their flesh slapped together. Somehow Effie both arched her back and locked her legs around his waist, allowing another orgasm to rupture through her body. Haymitch said her name, his voice low, a growl escaping out afterwards, and a callused hand palmed her breast. It made her cry out into the night, desperate for more and aching with desire.

She'd never wanted him so badly.

She'd been in Twelve a year and she'd never known the sexual tension could be so high between them. They spent the better part of ten years skirting around that line, until one day they plunged over it, on a drunken night, mourning over another dead Tribute.

They'd been so shocked that they couldn't even look at each other.

Until he took her against the wall the following year.

As time passed they went from one night a year to every night they were together to every day and every night that they were together.

Then it turned into as often as possible, anytime any place.

She'd missed him, she mused as another orgasm escaped.

This time Haymitch followed behind her, viciously thrusting until every drop was spilled, and then he collapsed on top of her, breathless and utterly spent.

It was the first time they'd slept together in over two years.

And like most of the other times, Haymitch was drunk.

"You're better than any alcohol, Princess," panted Haymitch.

Effie felt the smile before she could stop it. He slid off of her, his body drenched with sweat, and pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her back. His arms snaked around her waist and he held her close enough that she could feel his heartbeat against her.

It wasn't the first time he'd made a statement like that, and she supposed it wouldn't be the last. He said all types of things when he was high off of good sex. She was no stranger to that either. Mix it with alcohol and he was confessing all his hopes and dreams.

The alcohol would lessen. Tonight had been the first night he'd been drunk in months.

"I'm gonna marry you one day," he slurred, and this time his voice was laced with more than just sex and alcohol. He was nearly sleep, and probably unaware of what it was he was saying. Still, she felt the swoop in her stomach. "Maybe tomorrow, yah?" Effie refrained from stiffening—barely. Haymitch kissed her neck, pulling her closer. "Yah?"

"Sure," said Effie softly.

"Good. Love ya."

This time she did stiffen, but he was already snoring.

And there was the pain again. Because come morning, he'd never remember this moment.

…

They were fighting, but she didn't know why. It had been two days of tension in the air. She didn't know what she had done wrong; she came back from Katniss and Peeta's the other evening and he barely had said two words to her since.

She thought it was the alcohol – he'd already relapsed once this week, but he didn't have a lot of liquor left. He'd been winging himself off and the one time he'd slipped he'd only had a bottle left. He'd finished most of that off the other night.

When she'd looked this morning, the rest of the bottle was gone.

"Should we order you some more?" asked Effie softly.

Haymitch spared her a glance. "What?"

"Alcohol. Should we order you another bottle?"

He snarled. "I thought you wanted me to quit."

"I _do_ , but I don't like seeing you like this. You are mean and cranky and you're not eating…."

Haymitch stared at her. "That has _nothing_ to do with lack of alcohol, Effie."

Effie stiffened. He rarely called her by her name, at least in that tone. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm fine. It's you with the problem."

"What problem? I do not have a problem."

"Well apparently you do. You've been distant, you spend most of your time with the kids, you won't let me touch you…."

Effie flushed and looked away from him. "I just needed some space, Haymitch."

"Well tough luck," snorted Haymitch. "There isn't a lot of room for space in this place, so if you want that, I suggest you go back to the Capitol."

Effie stayed still. "You want me to leave?" she asked quietly.

"No, what I _want_ is to get married like I asked the other night, but you've made it quite clear you don't wanna. I'm not _forcing_ you into anything."

Effie whipped her head towards Haymitch. "You remember asking me to marry you?"

"Do you think I'm so old that I have amnesia? _Yes_ , I remember asking you." He glared at her. "If you don't wanna get married, I get it. We're dysfunctional, yah, but I thought we could work passed it. But I gotta say, Princess, it's rude as _shit_ to avoid me jus' because you're too much of a coward to say no."

"I am not a coward," Effie said with a sigh. "But I am an idiot. I owe you an apology."

"Save your apology." Haymitch turned away from her, his hands across his chest.

"Haymitch… I thought you didn't remember proposing. To be honest I thought you were drunk and didn't mean it. It wouldn't be the first time."

Haymitch stiffened. He didn't look at her, but he dropped his arms. "You thought I was drunk?"

"Yes."

Haymitch sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. "I wasn't drunk. I was drunker than usual because my tolerance is down, but I wasn't _drunk_ , drunk." He looked at her. "Of course I remember asking you. I know I've said things in the past, but it was dangerous then…. I _had_ to act like I didn't remember. But I always meant what I said, Effie."

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

"I thought I'd wake up you talking about wedding plans. Instead you were gone when I woke up. You spent the entire day hiding at the kid's house, and then you came here and went straight to bed. What the hell was I supposed to think?"

"We are horrible at communicating, and this marriage will probably be the death of me."

Haymitch snorted and yanked her to him. "I'll probably strangle you before the wedding."

"Let's just have a toasting, right now," Effie stated, looking at him. He arched an eyebrow. "I don't want a big fuss. I love you, Haymitch, I've loved you for _years_ , and you are not getting any younger. I should do you a favor and we should just toast. I live in Twelve now, I do not want some large extravaganza. Really all I've ever wanted is to marry you."

Haymitch stared at her, his hands cupping her cheeks. "Let's get married, Princess."

They stood up and made their way to the kitchen to find some bread.


	236. Sleeping Over

_I always wanted to touch on the first time Effie and Haymitch slept though the night together, because_ _ **clearly**_ _Haymitch is dangerous, so I really want to write a story where I talk about that: the way his subconscious might start to learn her touch, her scent, so that eventually he'd get to a place where he locks away his knife. Continues after Chapter 110._

 **SLEEPING OVER**

 **Rated M for smut**

Haymitch quietly slid the door open, expecting to tip-toe in, so that he wouldn't wake Effie as he checked on her, only she was already up. It was early yet, but Effie was already in her vanity, combing her hair and pinning it up with her pink ribbon. Her eyes locked with his as he entered the room.

"Didn't expect you to be up," he told her, closing the door behind him.

She shook her head. "Couldn't sleep. I thought I'd go and check on Katniss and Finnick." She turned around and faced him. "You look dead on your feet."

"I feel dead on my feet," he sighed. He looked worn out. His eyes were bloodshot, his beard thick and untamed, his hair disheveled. "Katniss and Finnick are probably resting. They're going to shoot propos later to respond to the bombing. You should probably get some rest. You'll be needed."

She nodded and then a quiet nervousness hit the air.

They hadn't discussed what happened last night. As soon as it was deemed safe, all the residents had to go back to their rooms, and then Haymitch was called back to Command. He'd barely had time to say goodbye before two of Coin's guards had found him.

"I should go," he finally said. She looked slightly disappointed, but didn't say anything. He'd never felt like he'd owed her an explanation before, but things were different now. That's what happened when lines were crossed and blurred. "It'll probably be a bad night," he told her.

"Why don't you let me help you?"

"You can't."

"You didn't have them last night."

"Last night we didn't sleep together for more than an hour. Besides, we…."

Effie smiled at him. "That's how I can help."

She _could_ help, he quickly realized, and one of these days he'd actually see her body, but for now all he could do was lift up her sweater that she'd turned into a dress and enter her. He wasn't even sure how he'd made it to the bed.

Last night had been… last night had been what it was supposed to be, but _this_ …. The way she had his blood pumping and his mind whirling was documented proof of years and years worth of anger, resentment, and dislike. It was almost like they were taking their frustration out on each other. He bit her shoulder and left marks on her neck—she'd be furious about that later he reckoned—and she clawed at his back, leaving several scratches that he was _definitely_ pissed about when he saw them. His mouth assaulted hers, and she fought back, fighting for domination in his mouth as he penetrated her body.

They still had to be quiet, because the walls were thin as shit, though he knew most people were still asleep. Hopefully no one would hear them, though if they did, it'd be entirely too obvious what they were up to with the way she kept saying his name. And when she wasn't saying his name she was moaning, and he couldn't silence her with his palms, though he certainly tried.

There was nothing gentle about what this was. He was exhausted, in desperate need of a drink, and he was fucking the shit out of his Escort, and it was all fucked up, because he liked it, and with how many times she was cumming she clearly liked it too.

He growled as the lust whipped through him, and all it took was for her to clench around him again for him to finally lose it. He choked out her name, too far into utopia to give a fuck about things like being quiet and thin walls.

He slid off of her, breathing hard, and trying to remember things like colors and shapes and numbers and his name. Which day was it?

"That was…" Effie said, still trying to catch her breath. "Last night was incredible. But this was… _amazing_."

Haymitch snorted. "You would like it rough, Princess."

She turned to him. "Will you be able to sleep now?" she whispered.

He frowned at her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Her neck was already turning red in a few places—he hoped he'd be in Command when she figured that out. He reached out and tucked her hair out of her face.

"I'm dangerous, Effie. You know that." He reached under her pillow and pulled out the knife. "I know where this is at all times, because even when I'm inside of the most beautiful woman, in the back of my mind I know danger can strike anywhere and everywhere. When I'm sleeping, and my defenses are down…." His voice trailed off. "I can't tell my friend from my enemy. Do you know what I'd do to myself if I ever hurt you? And I don't need the knife. My hands can do a lot of damage too. If I sleep over, you have to promise you'll do whatever you can to protect yourself." Effie looked at him and he pulled her to him. "Anything, Effie. Promise me."

"Haymitch—"

"If you can't promise me, I'm going back to my room."

"Okay," Effie said.

He looked at his knife. "Take this, and wait until I fall asleep. When I'm asleep, I want you to hide it, but keep it in close range in case you need it."

"Absolutely not. That I won't do." Haymitch looked like he was about to argue. "I'll hide it for you, but to keep it close would mean you expect me to do something I never would. I'll figure out a way to wake you up."

"Effie—"

"It's called compromise, Haymitch."

"It's called being stupid. I shouldn't even be sleeping over—"

"But you are, and I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life clutching a knife every time you fall asleep. Now stop arguing and go to sleep. You'll be needed in Command soon."

He stared at her for several moments, watching as she slid further under the covers and closed her eyes. He kept hearing things like _the rest of my life_. What did _that_ mean? She must really love him then, and it wasn't something she'd said in the heat of the moment last night.

There couldn't really be a rest of their lives, though. Not really. Too much could happen in between now and then. But for this moment, he was going to appreciate it for what it was: him, lying next to a beautiful woman that he truly cared about.

They'd figure the rest out later.

Later on she'd learn that kissing him nearly always brought him back, and when that didn't work, gripping him through his pants worked well enough too. He learned her touch, learned to recognize her scent as friend, not enemy.

And years later, when he finally locked away his knife, Effie would think about the first time he slept over, relieved at how much had changed.


	237. Visiting Haymitch

**VISITING HAYMITCH**

 **Rated T**

His doors slid open and Haymitch expected to see Plutarch walking through the double doors. Despite the fact that Haymitch had punched Plutarch about a month ago, the man had faithfully visited him every day to check on his progress.

Haymitch held in a groan. He knew Plutarch meant well, but it was the same thing every bloody day: withdrawal _sucked_. No, he wasn't doing okay. He was miserable. His nightmares were worse than ever, and he was seriously close to losing his shit without the bottle _and_ his knife.

"Haymitch?"

Haymitch groaned. "Fuck me. I thought the hallucinations were over." He stared warily as Effie walked towards him, dressed in a silk grey button-up, dark grey leggings, and _heels_ , no less.

"Language, Haymitch," sighed Effie.

He scowled. "I don't feel like being told off by a hallucination. Come to think of it, why am I even _talking_ to you?"

Effie stood at the edge of his bed. "I'm not an hallucination, Haymitch."

He sat up and stared at her. "What're you doin' here? You're not supposed to be here."

"I told Plutarch I wouldn't complain about not having my wig and makeup if he let me visit you. I wanted to check on you." She sat her small frame down next to him and he scooted over. "I haven't heard from you in a month and I wanted to make sure that God-awful woman with her damaged hair didn't do anything to you."

Haymitch snorted. "I'm fine, Princess."

"You don't look fine. You look horrible."

He frowned. "I think I prefer Hallucination Effie. She's probably nicer."

Effie shook her head, concern evident in her eyes. "I don't like this. They should have winged you off instead of making you quit cold turkey. This is dangerous."

Here they were again, flirting between crossing lines and flat our blurring them. This wasn't Effie and Haymitch. Effie and Haymitch might toy with each other, but they were careful. This wasn't being careful.

"What do you know about it?"

"I'm not stupid, Haymitch. I paid attention in health class."

"What was that, a million or so years ago?" There. Now they could get back to normal. Teasing was safe.

"Haymitch, I'm serious." Or not. "I'm worried about you. Plutarch says you're still stuck in here for a few more weeks. I don't like the idea of you being in solitary confinement."

"I've lived in solitary confinement since I was sixteen years old, Princess." Effie clamped her mouth shut. "I didn't mean to make that sound as bad as it did." Effie just stared at him. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine."

He was lying. He wasn't fine.

"Why do you get to worry about me but I can't worry about you?"

"I don't worry about you." Another lie.

"Plutarch always asks if I'm being treated okay," Effie stated. "I know that question comes from you." Haymitch kept quiet. "Well I am worried. What do they feed you? You look like death."

"I'm losing weight because alcohol has a lot of calories. Didn't they teach you that in health class?"

"You're losing weight because your liver is the main organ to metabolize fat, and—"

"Okay, okay," snapped Haymitch. "You know everything, okay?"

"You're grouchy. You're lucky I'm used to it and like you, otherwise I'd leave."

"Well don't do me any favors," he mumbled with an eye roll.

"Do… do you want me to leave?"

He looked at her. He knew she would leave if he asked her to. He shook his hand and reached out and grabbed her hand. It was risky. It was taking a permanent step in the direction of blurring an already blended line. But she clung to his hand so easily that it was obvious whatever this was, he wasn't in it by himself.

"No, Princess. I want you to stay." She visibly relaxed, a faint blush creeping on her cheeks, making her look, if possible, even prettier. "How's 13 treating you?"

"Horrid," she complained immediately. "They took my wigs and dresses—"

"They were doing you a favor," interrupted Haymitch, and Effie narrowed her eyes at him. "Seriously, Effie. I need you to blend in better than what you're doing. The reason I keep asking Plutarch about you is because he told me you were walking around in sweater dresses and heels and a headscarf." He looked at her attire. "You're gonna piss a lot of people off."

Effie slumped. "I know it was a risk to bring me here, Haymitch, but… you never asked me. You never gave me a choice."

"Would you have come, if I had asked you?" he snarled.

"Of course I would have," responded Effie with a wave of her hand. "I'd do anything for you, Haymitch." Haymitch's breath caught in his throat. "And Katniss and Peeta," she added quickly. "But it would have given me time to… adjust to the way of life here. You can't just… expect a person to change over night." She looked at him, her eyes softening a little. "I've known the Games were bad since my first year as an Escort. It still took me another four years to quit modeling. It took me seeing your Games to realize how blind I'd been for so long. From that moment on I kept my eyes and ears open, _waiting_ for an opportunity to Rebel. Not a lot of people were going to confide in an Escort, of course, but I knew you. It didn't take me long to suspect you. And if I suspected you, I had to suspect Chaff, and then Seeder, and eventually Finnick and Johanna. _You_ hardly saw me though. Not until Cinna told you. And then it still took you _forever_ to accept it. I don't fault you for that. People need time. They don't like surprises thrust at them. That's what you did with 13. I could have gotten used to the idea of no wigs and makeup if you'd warned me months in advanced and given me time to _like_ myself."

Haymitch stared at Effie, wondering who she was. She was a Rebel inside, but even that was on the surface. There was more to her, and he was anxious to get to know her.

"I don't get how you need time to 'like yourself' when you look a million times better like this."

Effie smiled at him. "You don't get the ways of the Capitol."

"That's a blessing," he snorted.

"I'm trying here," said Effie gently. "I couldn't imagine being in the Capitol, away from you." She blushed and quickly added, "and Katniss. I'd be worried sick all the time. It's bad enough worrying about Peeta."

Haymitch squeezed her hand, and she squeezed his back.

"Visiting hours are over." Coin's cold voice immediately had Effie's back going up. She stood up and Haymitch scowled. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"You have me prepping Katniss, because that's what I do," responded Effie, just as coldly. "This man in my Mentor. I have the right to check on him."

"He's in better hands now. And less bloody, too."

"Coin," Haymitch barked out, and the grey-haired woman frowned.

"Goodbye, Ms. Trinket."

Effie frowned and turned back to Haymitch. "Go, Princess. And _blend in_."

Effie gave him one final glance and walked out, her head high, her heels clicking on the grey tile. Coin and Haymitch stared at each other for a few minutes before she left, slamming the door shut behind her.

Haymitch was left alone, for once wanting something other than a bottle.

* * *

Merry CHRISTmas you all!


	238. Whiskey Di(k

" _What happens in those times when Haymitch is too drunk to perform?" –GuestJ. I laughed at this prompt for HOURS! Also, on a personal note, I LOVE THIS ONE!_

 **WHISKEY DICK**

 **Rated M**

The girl was all wrong, in every way imaginable. She wasn't really his type – not that he ever thought he had a type, but clearly he did, because he was hardly turned on – but he'd brought her up to the Penthouse nonetheless, because he could use a good lay.

Except she was doing everything _wrong_.

It was disaster in the making, from the moment they got into the elevator and he tried to pin her up against the wall. She hadn't liked that too much, and had accused him of being _too rough_.

"I am like a flower," she had told him. "I am delicate, and will be treated with the utmost respect." Haymitch nearly barked out a laugh but he was horny, so he just sighed and rolled his eyes as they made their way inside the Penthouse.

She giggled all the way down the hall.

Back in his room he tried _again_ to pin her against the wall, only she wasn't exactly having it.

"Let me teach you gentle," said the brunette, and she'd sat him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. He didn't like relinquishing control, and on the rare occasion it happened, it only happened because the pleasure turned his mind to mush.

That didn't happen in this case.

She was quick, he'd give her that, and he'd expected as much from some random chick he'd met at a bar for a quick lay, but she wasn't very good, and he was used to good. _Someone_ had seen to that. Her fingers—orange, and not like the sunset—undid his buttons at rapid speed, and then she started trailing kisses down his exposed skin, only she wasn't doing it _right_.

Haymitch rolled his eyes at her tactics and sighed for the umpteenth time.

"You are being very difficult," she said, still on top of him. He didn't even know her _name_. "I've held cucumbers harder than you." Haymitch scowled at that, and she frowned. "You're _drunk_ ," spat the girl.

"So what if I am?"

The girl threw her head back and laughed. "And all this time I thought it was _me_. You have whiskey dick." She shook her head, some of her curls from her brown wig shaking loose. She dug into her ample breasts and produced a card, smiling at him. "Call me when you're a little more sober." She gave him a kiss that he _assumed_ she thought was supposed to leave his head spinning, reached over and placed the card on the nightstand, and climbed off of him, straightening her ridiculous orange dress. "See you next time, Tiger." She blew him a kiss and disappeared.

Haymitch groaned and stumbled over to his bar cart, annoyed when he found it to be empty. He buttoned up half of his shirt and made his way out of his room and into the living room, making a beeline for the dark stuff.

"Well that was rather quick." Haymitch gasped and spun around. He was rarely caught off guard, and he had to stop himself from shouting aloud.

Still, there was an edge to his voice when he said, "What the _fuck_ are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"I didn't feel like listening to your headboard hitting the wall all night, so I came in here." Haymitch stared at his Escort. She was still dressed in the yellow costume she'd worn earlier, but her real blonde hair fell in tresses around her bare face. Her eyes were bright blue, and they always made his breath catch, just a little.

Haymitch didn't answer her. He just turned back around and finished pouring himself a drink.

"I don't much appreciate you bringing one of your whores back here, Haymitch."

He scowled at her. "So why do you get to do it and I can't?"

Effie arched an eyebrow, standing and walking towards him. "I _never_ brought a man back here, Haymitch."

Haymitch gripped his glass as he felt the anger whip out of him. "So I suppose it wasn't you making those noises earlier this morning?" It'd made his blood boil just remembering the way she was _panting_.

Effie paused, her mouth open, her eyes wide. "You… heard me this morning?"

"No _shit_. I'm sure all of the Capitol heard you. So don't get on my case for doing the _exact_ same thing you were doing." He swallowed his drink and immediately poured another.

"How much did you hear?" She was blushing, and it made his heart pound.

"Not much. Wasn't too keen on hearing you and Crane go at it like rabbits."

"I was not with Seneca," sighed Effie. "We broke up last year."

"So you bought a random _stranger_ here?"

"I bought no one here," she stated coolly. "I don't always need a man to please me."

Haymitch snorted. "You seem like the type to do girls, too." She didn't, and he was surprised, up until he locked eyes with her. She'd arched an eyebrow until it hit him: she said she hadn't bought _anyone_ here.

 _Oh_.

"See? You're the only one bringing strangers here." Her voice was cold, and he couldn't understand why. He took another drink to calm his shaken nerves. She hadn't been with Crane, then. Hell, she hadn't been with anyone. "Anyway, your little friend practically ran out of here, which doesn't surprise me. You never were the cuddling type."

Haymitch eyed Effie over the rim of his glass as she poured herself a drink. Not the pretty little colored drinks she favored, but a glass of the hard stuff. "We didn't get very far."

"Oh. Why not?"

Haymitch shrugged. "She wasn't very good."

Effie laughed. "Well she was young."

"Either that or I'm old. Couldn't get it up. Whiskey dick, she assumed."

Effie's eyebrows raised, clearly surprised. "Really? You certainly never had that problem with me."

"Yah, well, you're _hot_."

She looked at him. "You're not even that drunk." She paused, looking him over. "Maybe you were with the wrong girl."

Something about her tone had him hardening.

"Were you with the wrong girl, Haymitch?" She arched an eyebrow that had his stomach doing summersaults. Her voice was teasing, but despite their twinkling, her blue eyes were darker than usual, her face flushed.

"Effie." He was supposed to be warning her, but his voice was huskier than he had anticipated. He licked his lips nervously. He didn't _do_ nervous. Her eyes darted to his lips, lingering long enough for her to bite down on her own flesh, just a sliver, just enough to make him imagine exactly what that mouth of hers could do.

It was enough to make him snap, and he pushed her against the bar cart, swallowing the gasp that escaped from her lips. He could hear a few bottles crashing to the floor, but he didn't care. She could do that, make him forget about the bottle.

Her lips were hot on his, and familiar, and welcoming. It'd been a couple of years since the last time he'd had his lips on hers, and they still had the same affect on him: it had his heart hammering and his head spinning.

Haymitch picked up Effie, her legs immediately wrapping around him, and headed to her room. Inside he barely had time to slam her against the door before she was fumbling with his belt buckle and sliding her hands into his pants.

He hissed and cursed when she gripped him, roughly. " _Fuck_ ," he spat.

"Maybe you will think twice before bringing some two-dollar tramp here." He wanted to scowl but suddenly her hands were on his chest and she was pushing him towards the bed. Eventually she shoved him so that he fell atop the bed. He snarled at her, until he noticed her bedroom eyes. He propped himself up with his elbows as he noticed her stepping away from him.

With heavily lidded eyes he watched as Effie unzipped her dress. She casually stepped away from the dress once it pooled around her feet, though she left her heels on. She wore a matching lace bra and panties set that nearly had him begging.

Haymitch watched as she unclasped her bra and slid her panties off, and then climbed on top of him, taking special care to touch every part of him. She straddled his lap and then started undoing the few remaining buttons of his shirt, and he lifted himself enough to take off the shirt and throw it across the room.

He was ready for her, needed to taste her, so his mouth found her breasts, but she pushed him back. Frustrated he was about to tell her off for torturing him when she covered his mouth with her lips.

"Tell me, Haymitch, did she know how to turn you on?" Effie brushed his jawline with a soft kiss. "Did she know which route to take to get you the most aroused?"

 _This_ is what he had wanted, he realized as Effie took the familiar path from his chest to his stomach. That other girl… she hadn't known. She was too delicate, too soft, too… _wrong_. Effie knew what she was doing, she had perfected her craft over the years. She knew how to listen to his body, how to make him respond, beg, plead, all of the above.

When she was near his navel he started unbuckling his pants, but she didn't continue down south. Instead she grinned, almost evilly.

"Stop being a fucking _tease_ , Princess."

"Do you want me, Haymitch?"

"I always want you." It was an admission he hadn't meant to make, but sex with her was just as bad as a night when he had too much to drink—his tongue was too loose.

The slip up seemed to have a positive affect on Effie, though, because suddenly his pants were lowered and she was climbing on top of him, mumbling about the condom. He dug around in his pocket until he found it, slipped it on, and she started riding him almost immediately.

He saw stars for several moments, and his brain went fuzzy, until she dug her nails into his chest and brought him back to reality.

"How far did she get with you?" asked Effie breathlessly.

"Didn't even get my shirt off," he assured her, and that seemed to make her happy, because she came. He sat up, forcing his lips to hers, and attempted to change their positions, yet Effie wasn't giving up control that easily.

She never did.

Sex was a constant battle—hell an all out _war_ —with them. Sometimes he gave up and let her have her way, other times she did, but that was usually when they were both drunk and didn't have the strength.

Apparently that wouldn't happen tonight.

There'd be battle scars, he realized, because she was fucking him like never before and he wanted to respond in kind, but she wasn't making it easy.

"This morning," Effie panted, "I was picturing you when I was pleasing myself." Haymitch jerked violently. "I kept thinking about you, and the way you can make me cum within minutes." Effie's eyes fluttered closed and she threw her head back. "I wasn't with Seneca this morning. I was thinking about you. Even when I was with him, I was thinking about you."

"Damn it, Effie," moaned Haymitch, and he finally stopped playing nice and flipped them over against her will. She seemed okay with the change because her legs automatically wrapped around his waist, her nails clutching his back. After awhile she met his thrusts and he had to force himself to think of something else—anything else, really—to stop from spilling himself into her.

Effie called out his name, letting go of his back and gripping the headboard. It was a smart move, because he was pretty sure he was going to fuck her through the wall in a few minutes.

He kissed her, hard, when he felt himself about to release, and recognizing the signs, she arched her back and allowed every drop to enter her. She clung back to him and he buried his face in her neck as she cried out into the night. Before he could catch his breath her lips were on his again, her tongue in his mouth. It made him growl, and then she was on top of him again.

"I understand I have no control over you," she stated, her accent clipped, "but I promise you, if you ever bring another woman into this Penthouse you will never taste _any_ of this again."

"Loosen your corset, Princess. I only did it to get back at you for this morning. I thought you were with Crane." She visibly sagged with relief, her mouth finding his again.

Sighing she stayed on top of them as they laid down. "So you were jealous."

"I don't like the thought of you and Seneca. I don't like the thought of you and _anyone_ , okay?"

"Imagine how I felt to see you with—"

"Chaff picked her out. He said he was sick of seeing me mope about you and Seneca, and he told me he was gonna find me a girl to bring back tonight. I didn't even _want_ her. She was nothing like you, and really all I wanted is you." It was a dangerous confession, albeit a _stupid_ one, but he couldn't help it.

" _Good_ ," Effie stated. "And just in case you ever forget and you try to bring up someone else…." Effie locked eyes with him and smiled darkly. "I hope you get whiskey dick every time."

Haymitch snorted and pulled her closer. He figured he'd just stick to Effie and never find out.

* * *

Every now and then I remember the brilliance of Hayffie. Hope you all are doing well :)


	239. Of Dark Ally's and Lit Bathrooms

I'M BACK! I'm back I'm back I'm back I'M BACK!

* * *

 **OF DARK ALLEYS AND LIT BATHROOMS**

 **Rated T+**

"Haymitch this is _risky_ ," she said, but without any real conviction in her voice he didn't even pretend to assuage his assault on her neck. His hands didn't slow down roaming over her body either. "Haymitch," she whispered, giving it one last feeble attempt, but then his lips were on hers, and all was lost.

They weren't even supposed to be _together_ tonight. She had _purposely_ decided to go to a bar _far away_ , only _of course_ they _thought alike_ , and she waltzed in with a friend and who else would she see at the bar but Haymitch, Finnick, Chaff, and Johanna?

Haymitch's eyes had lit up to smoldering ash when he saw her enter with another man. He hadn't even given her a chance to _explain_ before he was tossing back another drink and all over some stupid clown with purple hair and a green dress that made her look ridiculously like Barney.

Well _two_ could play that game, she mused, and she'd taken Hermes to the dance floor and rocked her hips to the rhythm of the music. She could feel Haymitch's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him, so she missed the flash of warning in his eyes when she had allowed Hermes to run his fingers up her body.

Not until Haymitch had stalked up to him, pushed Hermes away, and grabbed her forcefully.

"Outside. _Now_." His voice was dark, his face filled with his rage, his eyes blazing. She'd have argued if she didn't know how pissed he was. So she excused herself from Hermes, ignoring the amused looks on Finnick and Chaff's face, and followed Haymitch outside to the back alley.

"Before you go off on me," Effie had started, but he didn't give her time to explain. He just pushed her roughly against the brick wall, his lips all over her. He was hard, she could already feel him, and then his hands were all over.

"I don't _fucking_ want to see another man all over you," he growled. "I have to behave like a civilized human being when those stupid Capitols dance and flirt with you at a party for the Games, but out here, at the bars, you're on _my_ turf, Princess. Show some _fucking_ respect."

" _Language_ , Haymitch, honestly," whispered Effie. "And you got it all wrong. Hermes isn't _with_ me." Haymitch snorted, biting her neck hard enough to surely leave a mark. "He is not. He's _gay_ , Haymitch."

He didn't miss a beat, but she noticed the way his body sagged with relief. Then his lips were on hers, his hands gripping her waist. "I don't wanna see you with another man," he repeated.

"Why not? You made it quite clear last night you felt nothing for me. You don't want _me_ , or even my body, just what my body can do for you."

"I didn't say I didn't feel anything," he spat, finally looking at her again. "I said it wasn't practical to do so." Effie knew that didn't mean the same thing, but it hurt nonetheless. "Fuck last night. Listen to me now: I don't want you _thinking_ about other men. I don't want you _dating_ other men either, okay?" Effie wanted to respond, but her brain was turning to mush. "No talking to other men, no flirting with other men, and for fuck's sake no showing up to bars with other men. No touching, no kissing, and certainly no _fucking_."

Effie moaned softly when his fingers slid inside of her. Her hips bucked. "Does that include you?" she breathed.

"No. I'm the exception." His lips were on hers again.

"Then what about _you_?"

"I don't _want_ anyone else."

She wondered if he knew what he was saying. He was drunk out of his mind, she knew, but she didn't have much time to talk about it. He started fumbling with his pants, and she felt it, that tiny thrill that only he could bring her.

"Haymitch we can't. Not here." He ignored her. "Haymitch this is _risky_." Lips, hands, everywhere. His hips were already grinding into hers, and at this rate she wasn't even sure she could make it to the Penthouse. "Haymitch…."

"Shouldn't have worn the red dress. You _know_ what it does to me. We've been doing this for years." He was already lifting her dress.

"I didn't think I'd see you until I got home. I didn't wear it on purpose." He just grunted, pulling down the front of her dress and exposing her breasts. "Haymitch I'm not about to have sex with you in a back alley." She absolutely would have if he kept looking at her like that.

"Does _this_ —" he grabbed her hand and placed it to the front of his pants, "feel like I can leave right now?"

"Let's go into the bathroom," suggested Effie, and _finally_ he paused. "We can make it to the bathroom, I think. Plus it'll be brighter than this dark alley, and I want to _see_ you." He stared at her and then finally backed away, zipping up his pants. She smoothed down her dress, and the two of them made their way back inside. "Meet me in the bathroom in five." She patted the front of his pants. "And _don't_ be late. I'd hate to have to get started without you."

He met her in three minutes, locking the door, and barged into the stall with a bulge bigger than ever.

She figured it'd be quite rude to keep him waiting.


	240. Shameless

Back to taking prompts! I'll post this story on Tues and Thursdays. MISSED YALL! :)

* * *

 _Okay. Not a song-fic, just an inspiration. Of course it's The Weeknd, because who has better Hayffie songs than him?_

 **SHAMELESS**

 **Rated M**

 _Say it louder, say it louder_

 _Who's gonna touch you like me, like me?_

 _Ooh, said it'd be the last time, all you needed was a little closure_

 _Ooh, said it'd be the last time but you're begging me to come over_

 _Ooh, come over_

 _Ooh, saying who's gonna fuck you like me? Hey_

 _I don't wanna hurt you but you live for the pain_

 _I'm not tryna say it but it's what you became_

 _You want me to fix you but it's never enough_

 _That's why you always call me cause you're scared to be loved_

 _But I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you_

 _I'll always be there for you, girl I have no shame_

 _I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for you_

 _I'll always be there for you, girl I have no shame_

He wasn't surprised when she made her way to his room. He'd stopped being surprised by now. How many times had she told him it'd be the last time? Even when she'd gotten engaged she'd come to him, because who else could make her cum like him?

Who could touch her like him?

He was pretty sure he was being used, but that was okay, because he was only scratching an itch too. At least that what it started out as.

Things were a little different now, and he wasn't sure when it'd changed.

It was all fun and games when she was pinned up against the wall, or his favorite: bent over a desk or a chair. It was sheer bliss when he was pulling her off to the train while they were in 11, or sneaking into the mayor's bathroom in 12 before she disappeared back to the Capitol.

He blamed the berries for making him think differently of her. She'd all too happily revealed her true self to him that very night, and he'd taken her in his room, while their Tributes were in _surgery_ no less, and for the first time they had _made love_.

He thought he'd have time to compose himself between the Victory and the Victory Tour, but apparently not. They'd been all over each other, and she was falling for him, it was obvious, and it probably hadn't even been that difficult for her. He was better now, more sober, on high alert, secretive, daring…. He realized there was shit worth fighting for, that there were people he actually cared about who were also worth fighting for, and he didn't just mean Katniss and Peeta, but now he had to include Effie in that as well.

He hadn't been at all surprised when she found him that first night of the Quarter Quell. He'd spent the majority of the night with Cinna, Chaff, Finnick, Johanna, and Seeder, but he had barely crawled into bed before she was inside his room.

She'd barely climbed on top of him before he was inside of her.

It dangerous and stupid what they were doing, and it always had been. The stakes were even higher now. How dumb could they get?

But he couldn't stop. He'd never been able to stop, anymore than she had, not since their first time, five years after she'd been his Escort, and they'd gotten drunk together, at the sight of her tears.

The tears as she watched his Games.

How it went from drinks to mind blowing sex was beyond him, but he figured it had something to do with the fact that he realized she was fucking human.

He'd never known a Capitol could be human. Even Plutarch had questionable human qualities. They were ridiculous and needy and they always had an agenda.

She didn't seem to have one.

She was _different_.

So he took her, whenever she gave herself to him, because she was willing, and because he was lonely. Not to mention the sex was amazing, and leave it to prim and proper fucking Effie Trinket to not be so prim and proper when she was fucking him.

She was a bloody temptress and half the time he drank so much to convince himself it _was_ just fucking.

She asked him once if he loved her, and he'd laughed at her for an hour.

Yet as time passed he became possessive, and when she'd told him that she was engaged, that they would have to stop what it was they were doing, he felt hallow inside.

Betrayed, even.

Not to mention confused, because she had reminded him that he had told her he didn't love her, and she'd found somebody who did, so he couldn't be upset, because she wasn't his _property_ and he didn't _own_ her.

He'd stared at her all night after he'd fucked some sense into her, after he'd reminded her that she'd never find anyone to fuck her like him, that no other man's name should ever fall from her lips again.

 _Did_ he love her? Could he admit that to himself? Fuck admitting it to her. She knew him. He needed to know for himself, so he could prepare himself.

He settled on the fact that he _cared_ about her, and he ignored the relief he felt when she'd come to him the morning of the Reaping the following year, claiming she didn't have a fiancé anymore, and then climbed on top of him and had him _begging_ her to fuck him.

He realized he was in deep shit after that, and he realized she knew it too.

He didn't know what to call them.

So when she climbed into his bed, two months after coming to 12, he told himself to stop her, that she was still healing, that she wasn't in her right mind. She spent half the night reliving those months in her cell and the majority of the day pretending nothing was wrong.

And he _did_ try to talk her out of it that night, because damn it he _did_ care, but she was pulling down his pants and lifting her nightdress and telling him that he needed her, again and again and again, and he hadn't felt needed, truly, genuinely needed, in forever.

She'd hate him in the morning, he knew. Of course she would. In fact she'd probably slip out of his bed while he was asleep and take off in the middle of the night, probably heading back to the Capitol, the home that wasn't home anymore, because he was fucking _shameless_ as he moved inside of her.

She collapsed on top of him, her body shuddering with pleasure as he released, and then wrapped her arms around his neck and burst into tears.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , he thought.

"Please tell me that was okay," she whispered. "Please tell me you love me. Tell me that's why you asked me to come back with you after the war. Tell me that's why you let me stay here when I showed up a year later. Tell me you don't want me to leave again."

Well shit.

He pushed her away to look at her, tears dripping down that beautiful face that had fucking haunted his nightmares from the time he'd left her during the Quell until the very night he'd let her in his house. Could he take care of her? Fix her? Of course he could. Of course he would.

"I'll always be there for you, Princess," he told her, and that seemed to be enough for her. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, and he realized that yes, he did love her, had probably always loved her, that if he were naïve enough to believe in shit like soulmates, she'd be his.

And as he rocked her to sleep, telling her it'd be okay, that they'd get through all of this _together_ , he realized there was no shame in that.


	241. The Moment

Got some old prompts from before, but I've only written about four or five new Hayffie stories. I'm finally requesting MORE PROMPTS PLEASE!" And please leave them in a Review!

* * *

" _Too lazy to login. Now I NEED a Willow/Ash story! Of the moment that he realizes that he loves her! Please please please!" –MinaMi016 BEYOND OBSESSED!_

 **THE MOMENT**

 **Rated T**

Ash walked into the house, tossing his bag aside and slamming the door behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks and swallowed the desire to call out to his parents to let them know he was there. He didn't need to. They were in the kitchen, locked in a _very_ intimate embrace. His father's shirt was mostly unbuttoned and his hands were under his mother's shirt….

"I'm leaving, and never coming back," Ash stated, and he turned around to grab his bag.

"Good," said Haymitch, and then he heard a gentle a slap that he could only assume was his mother hitting his father on the arm.

"Do not be ridiculous. We were not expecting you, Ash." His mother walked up to him and embraced him. "What are you doing here?"

"And why couldn't you call first?" whined Haymitch.

"Honestly, Haymitch," Effie hissed.

"What? You know how hard it is for us to have any alone time, and we finally get rid of the kids for a few hours and here this one comes along." Haymitch's grey eyes locked with his son's blue ones. "What do you want, boy? Are you dying?"

"No," Ash said.

"Then this coulda been handled over the phone."

Ash sighed. "No, I needed to talk to you two in person. It's important."

Haymitch sighed. "Come on, sit down."

"Are you sure everything is all right?" asked Effie.

"Yah." They sat down, his parents looking at him expectantly. "Look, I don't wanna take up too much of your time…. I guess I jus' wanna know… when you two fell in love with each other."

Haymitch froze and Effie sat back. She glanced at Haymitch and then stared at her son. "What makes you ask such a thing?"

"I know it's private, but—"

"Is this about Willow?" Ash nodded. "So it's getting pretty serious then?" Effie smiled knowingly. "Why don't you tell us what you're really asking?"

Ash leaned forward. "Mom… I've never felt like this before. I mean… a part of me is scared. Terrified, really, but…I can't turn these feelings off. I don't know how this happened."

"Do you know when?" asked Effie.

"Yah. Six months ago I had a Christmas party at work, and naturally I invited Willow with me. I went to her apartment to pick her up and… I mean you saw the pictures. She wore this beautiful red dress by Cinna and… time literally stopped." His voice softened. "In that moment… she was perfect. And I thought maybe it was the dress or whatever but… the feeling hasn't gone away. In fact I think I fall for her even more with each passing day. Was it like that for you two?"

Effie and Haymitch remained silent for awhile.

Finally Effie cleared her throat. "Ash, listen, love is different for everybody. Your father and I grew up in completely different circumstances. That doesn't mean your way is wrong. Peeta and Katniss also had a different experience than you and Willow. I don't think asking others how they fell in love should validate your feelings at all. There is no wrong or right way to fall in love."

"Do you think it's too soon?"

"Too soon? You're not exactly a child, Ash."

Ash sat there for a few seconds and then dug into his pocket, producing a black velvet box. Effie gasped and Haymitch gaped.

"Ash," breathed Effie, tears immediately filling her eyes.

"I know. It's crazy, right? I mean she's young, but…."

"Follow your heart, Ash. Besides, just because you are engaged now doesn't mean that you'll get married tomorrow."

"Willow's already like a daughter to me," Haymitch finally said. "You two are lucky to have each other."

Ash smiled. "Thanks. I'm gonna go ask for Willow's hand in marriage."

"Have Peeta call me when you two are done."

Ash stood up and nodded, and then left.

Effie slipped her hand into Haymitch's, and he squeezed it back.

…

Peeta and Katniss stared at Ash. The boy was clearly nervous, and Peeta tried his hardest to put his mind at ease. He offered Ash cake and light conversation until the younger man finally cleared his throat.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here," Ash stated, and Katniss nodded. Peeta didn't because he had his suspicions. "I want to start off by saying I care a great deal about Willow. I mean I've known her all of her life, and for as long as I remember we've been attached at the hip."

"You better not be attached to _anything_ of hers," warned Peeta. Katniss elbowed him and he grinned. "What? I'm her father, I'm supposed to say things like that."

"Willow is an adult, and she's much older than we were."

"I did _not_ need to hear that," Ash said, but he cleared his throat. "In all honesty, I've never felt this way about anybody. Willow is… special."

"You're in love with her," stated Peeta knowingly.

Ash nodded. "Very much so. I didn't know it would…. I mean I suspected it might happen, because she's _Willow_ , and we've been best friends for all of eternity, and it only seemed _natural_ , but… I didn't think it would happen so soon. She kinda snuck up on me, I guess. I don't need to ask if it was like that for you two. Everyone knows your story."

"What, that I loved Katniss since we were kids?"

Ash nodded and leaned forward. "Do you two remember when you fell in love with each other?"

Peeta glanced at Katniss. "For me it was in the middle of the 74th Hunger Games, in that cave."

Ash turned to Katniss. "And you?"

Katniss looked away from Ash and let her thoughts wander. She'd never really thought about it, and Peeta had never asked. All he wanted to know was that she loved him now, which she did.

"I knew I felt something for him when I went back into the Arena prepared to keep him alive at all costs. He didn't deserve the Quell in my mind. I would say I knew I felt something… different when we kissed on the beach…. I didn't know it was love until I found out he'd been taken by the Capitol. I fell in love with him when I saw him planting those flowers for Prim…. That meant everything to me. It was a special moment."

Katniss glanced at Peeta and he gripped her hand under the table. She squeezed it back.

Ash dug into his pocket again and produced the black velvet box that he knew would change his life forever.

"With you guys' blessing, I'd like to ask Willow to marry me." Ash opened the box and both Peeta and Katniss leaned forward, not that there was a real need for it. The ring was huge, and there was no mistaking that it was an engagement ring.

Peeta and Katniss looked at each other, and then Peeta turned to Ash. "Effie and I knew you two would get together back when you were kids. We said that you two would fall for each other. I've waited for this for years. I say it's about time."

Ash grinned. "I haven't quite worked out when I'll propose. I'm thinking her graduation, so please don't say anything until then."

"Trust me," Peeta said. "Your secret's safe with me."

…

Effie climbed into bed several hours later than him. Ash had stayed for dinner and then had caught an evening train back to the Capitol. Afterwards Peeta and Effie had stayed up all night talking about how excited they were and how they had known it'd come to this some day.

When Effie finally came to bed Haymitch wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into him, her head resting on his chest, right where his heart was.

"I didn't know I was in love with you until Plutarch told me you were missing." Her breath caught in her throat. "Time literally stopped, but not in the good way that Ash was talking about. I felt… empty. Void of anything. It was like losing my mom and brother all over again." He caressed her cheek and then started playing with her hair. "I knew you meant something to me, but I didn't know you meant that much. I lost it, Effie. I literally could have killed Plutarch, just for delivering the news. I'd spent all that time trying to keep my distance from you, so that one, no one would suspect and you'd be safe, and two, so that if something did happen, I'd be okay…. But I wasn't okay. I was devastated. I thought about you, about Ash…. I couldn't even breathe half the time."

She shifted so that she could look up at him.

"I remember being so _angry_. At everybody. I thought about Chaff, and the way he always told me that you were different. I was angry at myself for even ever getting involved. I was angry at _you_ for being Effie, and making me care even when I didn't want to. I was such a fucking goner, Effie. You shoulda seen me in Thirteen, I was _miserable_. And I kept thinking about one particular night. Don't ask me what year it was, but you wore this blue dress that brought out the color of your eyes. Later on that night we got drunk and you took off your makeup and wig for me. You were still in your dress You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. At least until Ava and Ember came along. I'm pretty sure that night changed everything for me."

"You never told me that story," said Effie quietly.

"I know."

"Well I loved you for a long time. Unofficially since I was thirteen, officially since the 60th Hunger Games. You know that. Everyone knows that. Falling _in_ love with you is a bit debatable. Sometimes I think it was seeing you take Finnick under your wing, other times I think it was during the 74th Hunger Games. I'm not totally sure, surprisingly. All I knew is that by the day of the Quell Reaping I was in love with you, and I vowed that I would do whatever I could to keep your legacy alive with our son." Effie paused. "I haven't thought about that moment in years."

"Me either," Haymitch agreed.

"I remember when I realized you loved me."

"When?"

"When you were the first thing I saw in the hospital. You were right there, and you never left my side. That meant something to me. It meant everything to me."

"But you didn't come back with me to Twelve when I asked."

"I was hurting. I came back a year later."

"Yes you did, and that's the moment I knew you loved me."

"Yet you told me to leave a few months later."

"I didn't think I deserved you," Haymitch told her. "I still have trouble thinking I do."

"That is because you are quite the idiot."

"But you love me."

Effie smiled at him. "I certainly do. And through all the ups and downs, good and bad, right and wrong… I am still very much grateful for that moment."

Haymitch kissed her temple. "Me too, Princess. Me too."


	242. Good Company

**GOOD COMPANY**

 **Rated T—slightly**

Haymitch stopped in his tracks, his eyes locking with the blue eyes in front of him. He froze for all of two seconds, almost confused. If it weren't for the familiar dark blue eyes he'd have bolted.

She was clearly fresh out the shower. Her dark red head was still wet, and wavy as it fell down to her shoulders. She had a bright pink towel wrapped around her tiny frame—proof again that she was who she was supposed to be, even if she didn't look the part.

He'd never seen her without her makeup and wig. Not in nineteen years of working together.

To say she was stunning was an understatement. He'd always expected as much, because she was a looker even with the powder. He'd never penned her for a redhead, though, despite the temper. Her wigs were _never_ red, particularly _her_ shade of red: more ruby than garnet, and more auburn than brown.

He'd never seen anything like it.

"I would much appreciate it if you could start knocking on my door if you're going to come in this late." Effie's voice was suppressed with quiet rage, and Haymitch couldn't understand it. She was stunning, and it made his heart race and he couldn't quite figure out how he'd ever get this image out of his head.

"I…" He didn't know what to say. He was pretty sure he wasn't sure how to _talk_.

Effie sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. "Go ahead," sighed Effie.

Haymitch blinked at her. "What?"

"Go ahead and laugh and make fun of me."

Haymitch gaped. "Are you serious? You're _hot_." The admission slipped and had him biting his tongue. Effie just stared at him, until Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Are you _joking_? You walk around like a clown all day and you're tellin' me looking like _this_ bothers you?"

She looked at him for several moments. "You are being serious?"

"Yah I am," said Haymitch, frowning. "I mean you can't honestly think you're… _ugly_?"

Effie turned away from him and looked at herself in her vanity mirror. "Mother always said—"

"Your mother's a stupid _bitch_ , we've been _through_ that. Take it from me, Princess. You look good. Better than good. Ten times better than when you have all that shit on your face." He watched as she took herself in, a small frown on her face, and knew he hadn't convinced her.

"This way isn't proper."

"Then your way is stupid."

She glared at him in her mirror. "Perhaps it is stupid because you wouldn't know proper if it slapped you in the face."

"No, it's stupid because there's no reason for someone as pretty as you to be insecure."

The slip-up caused her to blush, but it wasn't the first time he'd paid her a compliment. Aside from the fact that he could be even crueler when he was drunk, he was also incredibly honest.

But he wasn't that drunk now. They'd made a pact that he'd actually try this year. She'd tried to convince him to try harder every year, and it usually resulted in him snorting as he threw a drink back. _This_ time, however, he had agreed. It was just a simple okay, but it was an agreement all the same.

Finally she turned back around and faced him, and he couldn't help but notice how short her towel was. Or maybe her legs were just long. They seemed to go on for days.

"If you could kindly step out so I can put on something decent…?" asked Effie, and his eyes shot back up. He'd clearly been caught checking her out, and he cleared his throat.

"Actually I just had a quick question."

Effie sighed, turning back around to start brushing her hair. "Yes?"

"Tell me what you can about Cinna."

The simple statement had Effie freezing. She spun back around and stared at him, her eyes searching his. She hesitated, briefly, before speaking. "He graduated top of his class and is highly recommended. He has been quietly making a name for himself in the Capitol. He reached out to me last year. I assumed it was about getting me to model again—all the latest stylists have tried at some point. They think I'll be the ticket to jumpstart their career. I agreed to meet with him, because I am certainly a fan. What I thought would be a ten-minute meeting for me to tell him that no, I was not interested, turned into a six-hour business meeting. We had both lunch and dinner. He told me he wanted to be Twelve's new stylist, that he was sick of the same old costumes and that he thought he could make a difference. I thought he'd be a great fit for our team: he's young, attractive, hip. Not to mention Degree is old and her styles were outdated. She was _your_ stylist, and _that_ is saying something. She needed to retire years ago but no one's ever shown an interest in us before, so I jumped at the opportunity. I'm sure he'll be a good fit. What do you think of him?"

"I'm not sure," responded Haymitch carefully. "I'm still sobering up from the train ride. I don't remember much from our meeting with him earlier today, but those costumes tonight…. I've never seen anything like it, not even for Career Districts."

Effie nodded. "He is all about taking the momentum and running with it."

Haymitch heard the underlining meaning: keep the Capitol talking about Katniss. Haymitch kept eye contact with Effie, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He was missing something; he just knew it….

She gave him a soft smile. "He had great references. Plutarch's Heavensbee's nephew and Cinna were classmates, so Cinna knows Heavensbee personally. I actually ran into Plutarch a few weeks ago. He asked me if the rumors were true, if Cinna would be Twelve's new designer, and I confirmed. He seemed really excited. He said he hoped that you two would get along. He thought you two might have a lot in in common."

Haymitch stayed quiet for the longest time yet, and then slowly approached Effie. Her breath hitched slightly, but she stood her ground. He reached out and touched her red hair, even more fascinated at how soft it was.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Haymitch asked her softly.

"Nothing you would actually believe." There was a bit of resentment in her voice that she either couldn't or didn't quite mask.

He didn't have time to dwell on it. He needed to get to Chaff's and see if he knew anything about Cinna. Not to mention he was itching to hear what messages Paylor might have relayed to Chaff since Katniss volunteered.

Haymitch took his hand and caressed her cheek. He was no stranger to touching her. They'd never crossed any line before, but it was inevitable. It'd happen one day. She knew it, and he knew it, there to was a lot of sexual tension between them, and his hands always wandered after a few drinks – he didn't even need to be drunk anymore. And it'd only be a matter of time, especially with her looking like this.

He bought his face down to hers, so close that she could still smell the slight alcohol on his breath. It was refreshing, and familiar, and it did things to her, though she'd never told him that before.

They'd kissed before. A lot. It's probably why he was ready to jump her bones. Every argument that ended in a kiss tended to make him even madder for her.

But he didn't kiss her this time. Instead he bent down and let his breath tickle her ear. "Are you a Rebel, Effie?"

She gripped him so that her hands were holding his elbows. "I don't know," she whispered. "What I do know is I've watched the Capitol destroy enough people that I care about."

He let his hands slide down her body, resting on her hips. Her breath caught in her throat, briefly, but he only rested his forehead against hers, his heart pounding. She was on their side… she was on _his_ side….

"The girl volunteered," stated Haymitch.

He felt Effie nodding. "Yes she did. Cinna loves her. They work well together, he said. And sure she's a little rough around the edges, and hotheaded, but she's fearless. She's a lot like you." She gently pushed him back so that he could look at her. "And that's damned good company."

He thought she being on his team was good company too.


	243. The Hunger Games

I miss yall! Have I lost all my readers? I'm back forreal this time, and I miss interacting with you all, and your Reviews, and your prompts!

* * *

 **THE HUNGER GAMES**

 **Rated T**

Effie sat at the table, Haymitch behind her, neither of them saying a word. Effie thought she might faint, and Haymitch… Haymitch ached for a bottle he hadn't craved in about four years. The last time he'd _seriously_ craved alcohol – enough to walk out on his wife and kids, enough for that brand new bar that had just been built in Town to flash in his mind – was when Ash had turned twelve.

The year his son would have been old enough to be Reaped.

That day, and the day of the actual Reaping, were hard days for Haymitch.

But _this_? This was even more difficult than that.

Effie's pen tapped nervously against the table, her foot tapping against the mahogany wood floors, floors she had put in many years ago, back when they were still _learning_ and _growing_ and just trying to _make_ it.

They felt like they had made it.

And now… _this_.

The tapping finally getting the best of him, Haymitch finally let out a throaty, "Princess." The tapping stopped, from both the pen and her foot.

Sighing she took off her glasses, pushing the piece of paper they were staring at away. She got up, and his dark eyes followed her as she made her way to the living room.

He wanted to comfort her. He was _good_ at comforting her. She had taught him every good thing about himself. Only when it came to this… he wasn't quite sure what to say.

Haymitch glanced at the offending piece of paper, his mind going a million miles a minute. There were so many thoughts, questions, worries, concerns….

He grabbed the piece of paper, the letters blurring together because he was old as _shit_ and he'd left his glasses upstairs, but he'd had Effie read it to him enough times to have had it memorized.

 _As it is now Junior year, students in their third year of high school will be given in depth teaching of the Hunger Games, including but not limited to, ins and outs of the Games; key members; detailed rules, as well as names, dates, and times. The first half of the school year will focus on the First Rebellion and the Hunger Games while the second half of the school year will focus on the acts leading up to the Second Rebellion, and all parties involved. As this is sensitive material, please sign the enclosed permission slip and allow your student(s) to partake in this year's courses. Please be advised that these lessons are a necessary course in order for your student(s) to graduate; however, due to the sensitive nature of these events, students are permitted to have four absences of your (the parents) choosing as a form of 'protection.' Enclosed in this letter are the dates and subject of each lesson, broken down for the school year. Please be advised that lesson plans are subject to change, and you (the parents) will try to be notified as early as conveniently possible. If there is something you do not want your child to know, please detail it in the space provided on the permission form._

The rest of the gibberish Haymitch could not see, nor did it really matter. He'd gotten the gist of it.

His son would _finally_ know about the Hunger Games.

They'd told him things over the years. A lot of it he'd known, having been born five years before the Second Rebellion. His son had _lived_ through it. He mostly knew what a screw up his father had been – and _that_ had been the day, when Ash had come home from school one day, still in elementary school, walked up to Haymitch and asked, "What's a drunk, and why did this boy in class you call that?"

Before Effie no one had ever really held him accountable for anything, and how the hell do you explain to a ten year old who thought you were perfect that for most of your life you weren't _shit_ , and couldn't even care for yourself, let alone other people?

Haymitch had never thought he'd feel worse than _that_ moment, and he'd had a lot of bad moments in his life. Explaining to his son how many other kids he'd let die after his own Games… explaining to his son why he was so overprotective… those were low moments, but _this_ … this _letter_ , which neither one of them had been prepared for, had his mouth going dry and his palms sweaty.

They knew, they _knew_ something was wrong when Ash came home from school. As much as his son looked like him, Ash had no poker face, at least not yet. He didn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, but for him to have come from people who were experts at lying and hiding their true feelings, Ash had completely missed that hovercraft. He was honest, and pure, and couldn't quite hide the worry on his face when he walked through door, carrying a large envelope in his hand.

"This is from my teacher," he'd told them, his voice having finally deepened after a summer of awkward puberty. "All the kids got one this year."

Haymitch had known. He _knew_. But still, he remained quiet.

"It's a permission slip, to… learn about the Hunger Games."

Haymitch had felt his stomach drop, and he knew his face was a blank mask. Effie stiffened beside him, just enough for him to notice, because even now, after all this time, it was his job to notice.

Ash had stared at both of them, who hadn't said a word. They hadn't even _moved_.

"I'll leave it on the table and let you go through it. I'll be back down for dinner." He'd dropped the envelope on the table, gently kissing his mother on the cheek, and then had made his way upstairs. Effie and Haymitch had stared at the envelope for a long time, neither of them moving, until finally Effie went and grabbed it.

"We knew this would happen eventually," she stated quietly, but it didn't ease the pain in his chest. Not in the least. "I just don't understand how it got here so quickly."

With trembling hands she had opened the sealed envelope, reaching up into her blonde curls and pulling her glasses onto her face. She read the letter aloud, stopping after the third page. He saw her tense again.

"Read it," were the first words he had spoken, and she'd looked up at him then, those blue eyes that he'd grown to love boring into his. They could read him and undress him in ways that no one else had ever been able to do so.

"It's just a list of names," said Effie softly.

He felt his stomach jolt, immediately understanding. A list of names. People who'd died. People like Prim, Cinna, Portia, Mags, Finnick.

 _Chaff_.

At that point Haymitch had walked up behind her. He had her read the permission slip until he'd memorized it, and then they went through the rest of the packet, pausing once again on another list.

This one was a long list of known Escorts.

Ash knew. Of _course_ he knew, that wasn't something they hid, and they hadn't wanted him to be blind sighted like he'd been about Haymitch being a drunk. Ash had known, but some of the people at school hadn't, and Haymitch nor Effie were hardly ever likely to forget the day those kids in Ash's high school found out.

They were _kids_ , only freshmen, but kids could be so cruel. Ash was popular, had always been popular, and it was a little bit harder because he was a year younger. He'd skipped a grade and had never looked back, but somehow he was always _that guy_ in school, and some kids resented that.

He'd made an enemy of some boy, and they'd exchanged a few harsh words for a few months, but it had all went to hell when they'd gotten into at lunch one day a few weeks before the end of freshmen year.

The boy – Drake Singlebreeze – and Ash had gotten into it, because Ash was hanging out with the girl Drake had dumped, and the two of them started arguing, and then Drake said, loudly,

"At least my mother isn't a Capitol whore and Escort."

Well Ash proved that he was _definitely_ Haymitch Abernathy's son, the son of a _Victor_ , because he pounced on Drake so fast the boy didn't stand a chance. It took four teachers and three security guards to get Ash off Drake. By that time the Mockingjay warning had made its way to Victor's Village, and Haymitch and Effie were headed off towards the school.

They found Katniss first, who was still teaching her hunting class at the time, and she had been sent to wait for them to _calm them down_ , because all of Twelve knew Effie and Haymitch would come guns blazing.

When they'd gotten to the nurse's office and had seen Ash's black eye and swollen lip all Ash said was,

"You should see the other guy."

Ash refused to tell them what the fight was about, to this day Haymitch thought that he never would have told them and they never would have known if Belle Singlehart – the same Belle Singlehart who this whole thing started over – quietly spoke up when Ash was threatened with expulsion.

Drake had already been carted off to Twelve's hospital with _very_ upset parents, and the principle _knew_ Ash, she knew that the boy wouldn't just act out for no reason, but he had to start talking, and soon, or else he wouldn't be allowed back in school.

Ash was just as stubborn as his father, and would have taken that route, and been served that fate, if Belle hadn't said,

"Drake called Mrs. Abernathy a Capitol whore and an Escort."

You could hear a pin drop.

It was Haymitch who found his voice first, and shaking with fury, he asked, "He said… _what_?"

And then Katniss hopped up. "I'm calling Paylor," and then she and her braid were marching out of the nurse's office, her signature scowl on her face.

Peeta looked torn between comforting Effie and following his wife, and it wasn't until Haymitch jerked his head towards the door that Peeta made his exit.

Principal Duskway sighed heavily. "Okay. Why don't we all regroup tomorrow when tempers aren't so high?" Her voice was soft, and a complete change of pace from the hardball, clipped voice she'd been using to try and convince Ash to tell everyone what happened.

"I'm not regrouping for _shit_ ," snapped Haymitch.

"Mr. Abernathy—"

" _Don't_ Mr. Abernathy me," Haymitch interrupted coldly. "I want him out of this District tonight."

"Sir." One of Haymitch's men stepped forward.

"There is no 'Sir.' You get him and his family out of here. I don't give a _fuck_ where they go."

"There is _no need_ for that kind of language," tried Principal Duskway, and Haymitch fixed his steely grey eyes on her and she swallowed whatever it is she had to say next.

Haymitch turned back to his men. "Get them gone. _Now_."

"Mr. Abernathy, he is but a _child_. A child in _my_ school. _I_ will handle him accordingly."

"If you think—"

"Haymitch." He stopped glaring at the principal and looked at his wife. She was pale, but her face was blank. She would never let so many people see her hurt, that was one of the first rules of training, but her voice gave her away. "Haymitch I would like to go home."

Haymitch nodded, once.

"Mom—"

Effie forced a smile and walked up to Ash. "I understand you were defending my honor, but this is _no_ way to act. We will talk more about this when we get home." She then turned to Principal Duskway. "Go ahead and set up that meeting—"

"There will _not_ be a meeting—" started Haymitch.

"Haymitch." He clamped his mouth shut, a scowl on his face, as Effie locked eyes with him.

There _had_ been a meeting, because Effie _always_ got her way, but Haymitch had gotten his way too: the family was removed from Twelve two days later. They had agreed to meet with Principal Duskway, but they had requested that Effie _not_ be there, and President Paylor herself had made her way to Twelve to straighten that out.

 _That_ had been a lesson they hadn't prepared themselves for, and it was the first moment that they realized that they'd never _truly_ escape the Games, that it was more than just telling Ash what they _thought_ he needed to know.

They had known this moment would come, and now it was here.

They were going to sign it. They _had_ to sign it. But neither one of them were prepared for what was about to happen.

Whatever it was, it wouldn't be worse than the past. It wouldn't be worse than Haymitch having to bring home coffin after coffin, or Effie having to pick name after name.

And come what may, they were determined to get through it like they got through everything else: together.

Try as it might, the Hunger Games would never truly destroy them, no matter how often it tried.


	244. Wrecking Ball

Because Miley Cyrus' song is Hayffie to the max.

 **WRECKING BALL**

 **Rated T**

She hurt.

She hurt _all over_ , so much so that she couldn't even _blink_ without a splitting headache exploding behind her eyes.

Effie Trinket was made for a lot of things.

Pain was not one of them.

She had been described as a hurricane before. Finnick had said that, one night that felt like a million years ago, when he and Chaff had helped Haymitch into the Penthouse, after staying out all night drinkig.

"Effie's gonna _kill_ you," Chaff had chuckled, before he realized that Effie was in the living room, waiting for them.

Finnick had snorted. "He's already dead. Effie's a _hurricane_ , and the pressure's been building all week."

"Effie's no hurricane," Haymitch had slurred. "She's a _fucking_ wrecking ball, designed to destroy quickly, and all at once, taking down whoever stands in her way at a moment's notice."

Yet _she_ had been the one who was wrecked.

At Haymitch's expense.

He wrecked her.

The cell was _so cold_. She had long given up that she would warm up, especially once the Victors had been rescued and she was left all alone.

There was no one, not even the guards thought she was important anymore, they had had their way with her and had now left her for dead.

She wanted to die.

 _Terribly_.

She had wanted to die for many years. It hadn't taken her long to realize that being an Escort was _painful_. She felt so _empty_ most of the time, and then Haymitch filled her up and before she knew it, she felt _alive_ again.

 _She_ was not the wrecking ball.

Haymitch was.

He had wrecked her.

She hadn't meant to start a war…. Really she just wanted him to love her, because she had fallen hard and fast and without warning, and she _demanded_ that he love her in return, and one kiss and she was under his spell and she came in swinging, guns blazing, she'd never hit so hard before, and she wanted him to feel and do the same.

Only it didn't exactly work that way.

They crashed and burned. _He_ left her to crash and burn. When she went he stayed grounded.

Which is why she was here, alone, in a cell, Haymitch off saving _lives_ while she was left to die.

It was okay. She had made peace with it.

She deserved this.

A part of her was disappointed when she was rescued. She had been open to death, would have embraced it with open arms, but now she was alive, staring into the familiar pair of grey eyes, but she didn't _know_ him anymore.

She didn't walk away.

She _loved_ him, she would always love him, but she was too wrecked to do anything but leave. There were too many lies between them, and she could not live another lie, she would run for her life before another lie could be told to her.

Especially from him.

So a couple of years later, when she showed up at his doorstep, more wrecked than ever, she didn't make her way inside until she asked him.

"Do you love me?"

He didn't hesitate. He didn't falter. He didn't think about it. He just said, "Yes."

It would be years and years later when Haymitch would mention her being a wrecking ball again.

They'd been together for _years_ by then, and it was near the twentieth anniversary of the Rebellion, they were old as dirt but Haymitch's mind was as sharp as ever, but he'd _finally_ gotten a little sentimental in his old age.

It was late, he had a nightmare – they were nowhere near as common as they used to be, but the anniversary always brought them out – and he tended to be a little more tender now that he was older, and when he dreamt about losing her he tended to hold her a little tighter and try to show her how much he loved her.

He still didn't say it often. Maybe once every few years or so. But he'd showed her well enough over the years, or he'd find a different way of telling her.

"I still don't know how I let you in," he told her, his lips on her hair to plant a kiss on top of her head.

Effie smiled. "I am a hurricane," she shrugged, struggling to remember why that sounded so familiar.

"A _hurricane_?" snorted Haymitch. "You're a wrecking ball, Princess, and you took me down with no warning, demolishing everything I _thought_ I knew with absolutely no regard for me whatsoever. You _wrecked_ me, Princess."

"Well you wrecked me too," Effie stated.

But she found she didn't even mind anymore.

* * *

Tell me why I wrote a Hayffie one shot to Bruno Mar's Versace on the Floor. I'm definitely obsessed again smh lol


	245. Versace on the Floor

A/N: Thinking about making this story M/W instead of T/Th, so I can have more time to write new Hayffie stories.

* * *

I know I'm obsessed with Hayffie when even a BRUNO MARS song reminds me of Haymitch and Effie.

This will be a LITTLE OOC but I promise I can make it work LOL. Yall should trust me by now.

Not a song fic, just inspiration

PS: Zendaya slays my WHOLE life, and I LOVED that she was in the video.

Let's take our time tonight, girl  
Above us all the stars are watchin'  
There's no place I'd rather be in this world  
Your eyes are where I'm lost in

Underneath the chandelier  
We're dancin' all alone  
There's no reason to hide  
What we're feelin' inside  
Right now

So baby let's just turn down the lights  
And close the door  
Oooh I love that dress  
But you won't need it anymore  
No you won't need it no more  
Let's just kiss 'til we're naked, baby

Versace on the floor  
Oooh take it off for me, for me, for me, for me now, girl  
Versace on the floor  
Oooh take it off for me, for me, for me, for me now, girl

I unzip the back to watch it fall  
While I kiss your neck and shoulders  
No don't be afraid to show it off  
I'll be right here ready to hold you

Girl you know you're perfect from  
Your head down to your heels  
Don't be confused by my smile  
'Cause I ain't ever been more for real, for real

So just turn down the lights (down the lights)  
And close the door (close the door)  
Oooh I love that dress  
But you won't need it anymore  
No you won't need it no more  
Let's just kiss 'til we're naked, baby

 **VERSACE ON THE FLOOR**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch made his way to her, not really seeing anyone else. For once, for _once_ , he only had his eyes on her, without having to fear that if he wasn't paying attention, something would happen.

He _always_ had his eyes on her.

She was easy enough to spot, she'd been easy enough to spot for _years_ , but tonight she stood out even more in her custom gold chainmail mini dress. It was such a far cry from the costumes she used to wear with its dramatic bell long-sleeves, its neckline low, and an exposed zipper that Haymitch had barely been able to concentrate on anything else other than her all night.

He'd always preferred her in Versace.

Halfway to her she looked up, her eyes meeting his, and the rest of the crowd parted like the Red Sea, Effie standing there in the middle, every bit as beautiful as she had ever been.

When he reached her he smoothly pulled her to him, sliding his hands around her waist. Her arms automatically made their way around his neck, and they swayed together, neither one of them taking their eyes off of each other.

The stars were bright, noticeable with the glass ceiling, the lights low, save for the single crystal chandelier they stood under. They swayed together, slowly, taking their time, for once not having to worry about who was watching or who might be waiting.

The War had been won for many years now.

He had no one to hide what he was feeling inside from, and neither did she.

Not anymore.

The moment in all honesty was perfect, despite the fact that he was back in the Capitol. It wasn't the Capitol it used to be, and it hadn't been for a long time. He could appreciate this place for what it was now, he could walk these streets and smile.

 _She_ made him smile.

He placed his lips on her neck, in the spot that was still her favorite spot, even after all these years, just as a simple reminder of what he planned to do to her when they left the New Year's Eve Party.

It didn't even bother him that he was so affectionate now.

They'd almost lost each other once.

They danced together, something else that had changed from many years ago. He spun her around, allowing the crowd to be wowed by her. _That_ wasn't something that would ever change. Effie Trinket – _Abernathy_ – would always be the belle of the ball, the one photographers wanted to capture, the one who would make the front pages.

Despite her checkered past, she was still the darling of the Capitol, reverenced.

As she should be.

She was perfect, from head to toe.

He smiled at her, and she blinked at him, clearly surprised. He wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was because they were back _here_ , in this place, and the last time they'd attended a party together in the Capitol they'd been on edge and Haymitch was nowhere near comfortable enough to really show her his feelings – he still struggled, but some nights, nights like tonight, it was _easy_.

She had no reason to be surprised tonight. It was real, how he felt was _real_.

Effie reached up and gave him a kiss, and even after all this time it still took his breath away. His smile turned into his signature smirk , and she threw back her head and laughed, her long blonde hair tickling his arm, her bright blue eyes twinkling.

They didn't used to always twinkle.

He was glad they did now.

They didn't bother to say their goodbyes to anyone, they just left the party and made their way across the street to their hotel room.

They had given their friends more than enough of their time.

Inside their suite Haymitch barely closed the door before he was spinning her around, hugging her from behind. He could see her sensual smile in the mirror, their eyes momentarily locking.

He turned down the light as he closed the bedroom door, coming up behind her and caressing her arms. He moved her hair to the other side, his lips finding the way to her collarbone.

He was anxious to get to her, but time had taught him to slow things down, that it didn't _always_ have to be quick, quick, quick.

Besides, it was a new dress, a dress she loved, and she would _kill_ him if he ruined it, so ripping it off of her was not an option.

It _was_ a beautiful dress, he loved it on her, but she wouldn't need it anymore.

He vowed to kiss her until she was naked.

Unzipping it, Haymitch watched in fascination as the Versace dress fell to the floor.


	246. Daddy's Sins

" _Haymitch is comforting Ava after she has her heart broken by the boy she likes who is mean and ignores her. He wants to kick the kid's ass for hurting her until he realizes that he treated Effie the same way for years. That night when they go to bed, he pulls her close and apologizes profusely for his ways and explains that he's even more sorry that he had to wait until he had a daughter to learn to be a better man." –Karmicsamadi86_

 _Kinda changed it up a little._

Still working out when to post these One Shots.

 **DADDY'S SINS**

 **Rated T+**

Haymitch sighed as he walked into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He was exhausted, not to mention mentally drained, and he couldn't wait to climb into bed and fall asleep.

If he'd even get to sleep with all the information running around in his brain.

Effie was already in bed, though she wasn't asleep. She was curled up, mostly on his side, a mystery in her hand, her glasses on, and he wondered how she was so calm.

Haymitch let out another annoyed sigh and started undressing. He kicked off his shoes and lifted his shirt over his head, dropping the shirt on the floor. Next he discarded his pants, climbing into bed with just his boxers on. He scooted next to Effie, his head resting on her lap. Her hand immediately went to his hair and Haymitch sighed again.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are you going to keep moping like a child?" asked Effie without putting her book down.

Haymitch scowled at the ceiling. "What kinda son of a bitch can't see a person's worth when they're right in front of their face?"

"It happens more often than you think," said Effie, still reading.

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at his wife. "Why are u so nonchalant about this? Our daughter has had her first heartbreak and you act like it's not a big deal."

Effie sighed, finally putting her book down and looking at him. "She's hurting _now_ , but we as women… we know how to bounce back from this kind of thing."

"She is not a _woman_ yet, she's an eighteen-year-old girl who just found out her prick of boyfriend was a fucking _lousy_ human being."

"And I am saying she'll be _fine_. It hurts now, but everything I am is because of heartache and pain."

Haymitch scowled. "And how many men broke _your_ heart?" he accused.

Effie stilled. "You mean besides the person laying next to me?"

Haymitch stiffened. "Me? I broke your heart? By what, leaving you in that cell?"

"Why do you think the Rebellion was the only mistake you ever made?" Effie snapped. "You were not perfect, Haymitch. You hurt me more than you know, and on more than one occasion, all of them _before_ you left me behind."

Haymitch paused. "So you're saying I did to you what that jerk did to our daughter?"

"Don't be ridiculous," laughed Effie. "There is no one in all of Panem crueler than you." That hurt more than he cared to admit, so he just sat there in silence. "If I turned out okay, then our daughter will be fine. Trust me."

Haymitch stayed quiet long enough for Effie to open her book and start reading again. She turned a few pages and then saved her place, put the book on the nightstand, and turned out her light.

Effie was nearly asleep when he said, "So this is my fault then."

"What?"

"Isn't there a saying about it coming back ten fold? The sins of the father.…"

Effie sighed and looked at Haymitch. "You are being ridiculous. Every girl has to get her heartbroken. Ava will be fine."

"Why are you so okay with this?"

"I am not okay with this," Effie explained with the patience of a mother talking to a simple toddler. "I have already talked to Ava. _You_ were the one who took one look at her and demanded you guys go and talk."

"I could see she was upset."

"Yes, and you asked her to confide in you, which she did, but you're under the assumption that she is still distraught. Ava and Trent broke up months ago."

"She _is_ still hurting, she cried on my shoulder, didn't she?"

Effie shook her head. "She's healing, Haymitch, but she's fine. She comes from my womb, and I have had enough experience with a broken heart. I know she will be fine. I am."

He paused again. "This is all my fault," he declared again. "I need to go make this right."

Effie looked at Haymitch. "If our daughter gets an apology before I ever did, we are going to have a serious problem."

"I've apologized," gaped Haymitch.

"You apologized for leaving me behind and getting captured, you _never_ apologized for being cruel and a drunk and incapable of taking care of yourself or never appreciating me."

"Well don't hold back," Haymitch snapped.

Effie sighed. "Haymitch none of that matters anymore. It was _years_ ago. You are not that same man. There is no point in getting all worked up over Trent. He might grow up one day too. Trust me, if I had a father who cared half as much as you do mine would have kicked your ass a few times."

Haymitch frowned and got up. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" Effie sat up. "Haymitch."

"I'll be back," he repeated, and then he was gone.

He made his way down the hall to Ava's old room. It had changed as much as his daughter had. She was a young woman now, and her room reflected that. He knocked on the door and found his middle child in bed, reading just like her mother.

"You got a minute?" Haymitch asked.

"Of course, Dad."

Haymitch walked inside, sitting on Ava's bed. "I think what you're goin' through might be my fault."

Ava arched an eyebrow that made her look so much like Effie he nearly smiled. "What do you mean?"

"I wasn't that nice to your mom when we first met. In fact I'm sure I hurt her pretty bad the first few years."

"Oh, I know."

Haymitch blinked at her. "You know?"

"Of course I do. Mom talked to me when Trent and I first broke up. I was being all dramatic and hurt and told her she had no idea what I was going though because you and her were perfect, and she told me that wasn't exactly the case. She didn't go into any details, but she explained that sometimes men didn't know and appreciate what they had when they had it. She said it was her decision to wait for you to come to your senses, but I didn't have to do that."

Haymitch frowned into the night. "She didn't go into detail though?"

"No, but I can imagine you weren't that nice. I mean…" Ava's voice dropped considerably, because even now he _hated_ his Games being brought up, "you told us what happened to you in your Quell, and then what happened with your family…. I'm sure it wasn't easy to love Mom, especially because she was Capitol. It makes perfect sense. All that matters is that you love Mom now, and she clearly still loves you. I'll probably be single for the rest of my life because there won't ever be a relationship as good as you and moms or Aunt Katniss' and Uncle Peeta's."

"I'm sure you'll find someone out there. I want you to be happy…. And I don't want you bein' like your mom, either…. I was…" Haymitch paused. "I don't deserve her. I never did. I want you to know your worth and when it's time to walk away. No man should ever make you cry, or he's not a real man."

Ava frowned. "You made Mom cry all the time."

Haymitch felt his heart drop to his stomach. "I was an idiot."

"And she loves you. She saw the best in you even when you couldn't see the best in yourself. That's special, Dad."

"It is but… your mom… she coulda had anybody."

"And she chose you."

"Well I don't want you to choose anyone who makes you feel like I made your mom feel. What you're goin' through now is my fault. You're payin' for my sins, Angel."

"You can be so dramatic sometimes, Daddy." She rolled her eyes, giving him a smile. "You and Mom raised me right. I'm sure when the right one comes along, I'll know it, and I know you and Mom will support me. Stop worrying about me and Trent. We're done."

Haymitch nodded and stood up.

"Stop pouting, Daddy. Mom loves you, and what happened between me and Trent has nothing to do with you. Go to bed, I know you're old and probably tired."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "You're as cheeky as your momma, Angel. Sweet dreams."

"Night, Daddy."

Haymitch left and went back to his own room. Effie was on his side, snoring softly. He climbed back into bed and wrapped his arms around her. She shifted, burying her face in his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk?" asked Effie, her voice thick with sleep.

"Yah." He kissed Effie's forehead. "I learned I'm an idiot."

"No argument there, Darling." Her voice was amused.

He slid his hands underneath her shirt, his mouth finding hers. "Never been that good at apologies, Princess."

Effie sighed. "I do not _need_ an apology, Haymitch."

"You do. I don't deserve you, and I'm an idiot." Effie gasped when his teeth sunk into her neck.

"You are doing a very good job of making it up to me."

He snorted and pushed into her, their hips moving on one accord. Even after all these years sex with her could still take his breath away. She clung to him, crying out softly into the night as to not wake the children. They rocked together until she came. He followed behind her.

"I'm sorry," he told her as he slowly slid out of her.

"Apology accepted," responded Effie with a smile. "Your apology's _been_ accepted, and I am sorry if I made you think otherwise. I love you very much."

He buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply. She could tell it bothered him, having their past come back and hurt their daughter. Sometimes the sins of the father did come back tenfold, but Effie doubted very much that Haymitch remembered all the good he did, too.

He probably had no clue that his sins had already been forgiven.


	247. Shopping is a Habit

_A 5x Haymitch had to go shopping for Effie, and the 1x Effie went shopping for Haymitch. Not in any particular order, but they are expected to be in the same "Universe."_

 **SHOPPING IS A HABIT**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch stared at the _thousands_ of options, his brow furrowing in confusion. How could there be so many? Honestly, how were there so many options for something that only came _once a month_? It was his first time going for her, she would deem him incapable of listening to her if he came back with the wrong one.

Which number had Effie told him she was? Was it three? Five? Maybe it was four.

He was a few seconds away of buying one of each when a familiar voice said,

"She buys number three." Haymitch turned, only slightly startled, and locked eyes with Peeta.

Relived, Haymitch grabbed the third one, without question. Then he stared at Peeta suspiciously. "How do _you_ know?"

Peeta looked at Haymitch like it was obvious. "Who do you think used to get them for her when you were…." He let the sentence trail, and Haymitch understood. Effie had had Peeta run to the store when he used to be passed out drunk.

"Did she send you down here to check on me?"

Peeta shook her head. "I'm pretty sure Effie got Katniss sick. I'm here for her. I was hoping Effie was feeling better, but since you're the one shopping…."

"She still has a cough but she's recovered for the most part. Didn't want her goin' out in this weather, though, yah?" He averted his eyes, because he was Haymitch, and Peeta knew enough to not make a big deal about it.

"I got some other things to get for Katniss. I'll see you later." Haymitch nodded and Peeta headed off. Haymitch made his way to the checkout line, to get back to Effie.

* * *

Haymitch glanced around, knowing more than likely he was making himself look even more suspicious, but he couldn't help it. The last thing he needed was for Chaff or Finnick or _Johanna_ to see him, he'd never live it down, and try as he may he couldn't think of a single lie as to why he was buying a _heating pad_ for any reason other than for his Escort.

No matter _what_ he would _not_ tell them it was because he'd bruised Effie's back by fucking her senseless against her vanity.

It'd been going on long enough for most of Panem to suspect it, but Haymitch wasn't about to finally admit it after denying it for so long.

He read the signs until he got to the aisle he needed. He turned, still looking around to make sure he wasn't spotted, and then proceeded to grab the first heating pad he saw.

He was halfway down the aisle when another one caught his eye.

This one was pink. Not the ridiculous bright pink she tended to wear, but the muted champagne pink that she secretly favored. There were dark pink – _fuchsia_ , she would have told him – flowers on it and it was utterly girly and so ridiculously _Effie_ that he glanced at the boring grey one he'd grabbed and frowned at it.

He made a split-second decision and grabbed the pink one, putting the grey one back, and made his way to the checkout line.

He made it all the way back to the Penthouse when the elevator stopped on four, and who else would make their way on the elevator except Johanna and Finnick, making their way to Chaff's.

 _Fuck_.

* * *

Haymitch looked around the quaint little shop, frowning, because he already knew that there was nothing in here Effie would like, but this was her first winter in Twelve and she had _nothing_ to survive here in.

He hadn't tried his damnest to keep her alive after he'd found her in that cell only for her to die of coldness during one of Twelve's unpredictable winters.

Somewhat overwhelmed Haymitch made his way to the women's section, grimacing at some of the things he saw, and then feeling annoyed with himself for caring about what it looked like. He shouldn't give a damn, clothes were made to be worn, and winter clothes were made to keep people warm, not be _fashionable_.

Still, he couldn't hide his grin when he found a shirt with pink in it and grey butterflies printed on it.

Effie Trinket didn't belong in the dark colors of the Seam, and the Town had a few things of color, so he grabbed everything that had a hint of color in hopes that she wouldn't find everything dreadful.

He told himself if Effie hated the things he wouldn't care, but she'd been so _off_ lately that he thought this might be a nice surprise for her.

When he'd started surprising her wasn't something he was ready to think about yet. He just knew Old Effie would have jumped at the opportunity to go shopping, but this new Effie who'd showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night a few months ago didn't even bat an eyelash when he told her fall was nearly over and she needed newer, warmer clothes, so here he was, shopping for her.

When it was time to pay, the clerk gave him a soft smile. "Did you find everything okay, Victor Abernathy?"

He cringed at the name – he was Haymitch, he was _only_ supposed to be Haymitch – but he knew from her accent that the clerk wasn't from Twelve, so she wouldn't have known.

"Yah," he stated gruffly.

"Great. And you got all the correct sizes?"

He grimaced, realizing he didn't technically know her size. He got smalls because she was still so _fucking_ tiny, she had hardly gained any weight in the eight months she'd been here and he was worried as _shit_.

After a few moments he nodded, pretending to be sure, and she rang up all the items, putting all of the clothes in a large bag.

He made his way back to Victor's Village, the bag of clothes in his hand.

* * *

Haymitch thought he might start drinking again if he stayed in this store much longer. He was exhausted, it had started raining on his way to the store, and now it was _pouring_ and he would have to walk back in the rain, and what had started off as an okay day was obviously going to end up being _shit_.

"Haymitch?" He turned around and looked at Greasy Sae. "If I find out you're here for liquor, I won't be very happy."

Haymitch scowled. "Ain't here for that," he muttered. When word got out that he was supposed to be sober all of Twelve had collectively decided to help him. All restaurants refused to serve him, stores refused to sell it to him, and no matter what he tried no one budged.

It was fine, now, he'd kicked the habit for the most part, Effie had seen to that.

"Figured as much, I was jus' making sure," stated Sae. "You look lost, and let's face it, you can find liquor better than anyone I know." Haymitch remained mute. "What are you looking for?"

"Wine glasses." Greasy Sae arched an eyebrow. "Not for me. For Effie. She swears she can't understand how I don't have wine glasses, and if I have to hear her complain about drinkin' a _fucking_ bottle of wine without proper glasses, I'll end up relapsing, so _finally_ I'm getting her the stupid glasses."

He'd stomped out of the house as soon as she started repeating the same phrases she always used when reminding him that he didn't have wine glasses. He hadn't said a word, just sighed heavily and made his way out of house to just have some _peace_.

He hadn't expected to end up here, but he _was_ here, and he thought the wine glasses would be a nice peace offering to shut her up _and_ get him laid.

Sae grinned. "You are so into that girl it's almost ridiculous. When are you gonna marry her?"

Haymitch blanched. " _Marry her_?"

"Don't look so shocked. How long has she been your girl now?"

"Not my girl." The lie was automatic, but felt wrong coming from his mouth now.

Sae snorted. "You're buying her _wine glasses_. For the house you guys _share_. She's your girl, all right. Now make her your wife. Before I die. Wine glasses are on aisle six."

And then she was gone.

Haymitch made his way to aisle six, finding the glasses closest to the one she used to drink from in the Capitol, and refused to think about anything else.

They were _just_ wine glasses.

* * *

He felt like an idiot. The fact that he was even _here_ , at this new fabric shop, proved how fucking _domestic_ it all was now.

He was tied down, practically married, and Haymitch wasn't sure how or when it had even happened.

Oh, if Chaff could see him now….

Chaff would be somewhere laughing his ass off, toasting to how _sprung_ Haymitch was.

He was probably up in Heaven thinking, 'I told you so.'

He _had_ always said Effie was different. As had Seeder. And Mags.

And he was living proof, because he was currently shopping for _curtains_ for their bedroom – and the fact that it was _their_ bedroom didn't even terrify him anymore.

He thought he'd surprise her, she'd been complaining about his curtains for _months_ , and he couldn't blame her, they _were_ old and smelled and they took away from some of the other changes she'd made over the past few weeks.

Subtle things, like changing the desk lamp, or the pillowcases, and eventually the sheets. He knew she was eyeing the comforter, but she hadn't yet. She was still a little afraid, he thought, because he was a commitment phone, she was clever, and she had taken her time in taking over his house.

The first time she left her toothbrush in his bathroom had nearly given him a heart attack, but he hadn't mentioned it to her. When it was gone a week later he'd nearly had a panic attack, and had demanded an answer on why the toothbrush was gone.

To be told it had fallen on the floor and she had to go to the store to buy a new one had relieved him to no end.

He was _done for_ , which he now knew as he stood in front of several curtain options, all of which were about to give him a headache.

He should have left this to her, but she had gone on her monthly trip to the Capitol to visit her sick mother, she was currently on her way back but wouldn't be home for quite a few hours, and to stop himself from _missing her_ he'd made his way here so that when she got home she'd be surprised.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Haymitch could hear Chaff snickering.

 _Finnick_ would have understood. Not only would he have understood he would have known which curtain Effie would have liked best. Finnick was probably up there watching right now, _pleading_ for Haymitch to pick the right ones.

Haymitch could pick the easy way, get her a gift card, and that would be enough for Effie, but damn it she deserved _more_.

Before he could think about what that meant a yellow fabric caught his eye.

Its hue reminded him of Effie's hair, and he reached out and felt the fabric, impressed with how soft it was, especially for its weight. It would help keep out the heat in the summer and the cold in the winter, which was good, because Effie was _always_ cold.

He was on his way to the cash register when a bed spread caught his eye. He didn't want to go _too_ overboard, he knew she would want a say in redecorating, and he knew what can of worms buying this stuff would open, but he really _couldn't_ pass up the throw rug, it was soft and would be a nice change of pace to put on the floor for when winter came and Effie got out of bed. She wouldn't have to step onto the cold floor.

And fucking her on the soft throw rug was just a small payment, really, for Effie to continue to enjoy her creature comforts.

Though the smile she gave him, the way those bright blue eyes lit up when she saw her surprise, was honestly payment enough for him.

The way she hugged him was a bonus.

And the amount of times he got to fuck her on that rug was definitely worth the time and trouble.

* * *

Effie looked around the shop, worrying her bottom lip. She _had_ to find it, she just _had_ to.

Haymitch _said_ it wasn't important, but that was because he didn't know. She knew him better than he knew himself, it was imperative that she found exactly what she was looking for, because he wouldn't realize how much it meant to him until he had it.

And for her? For her it was something _tangible_.

It was the only old-fashioned thing she wanted in a relationship that was as far from traditional as it got.

It hadn't been typical, but he _had_ proposed to her, and she _had_ said yes.

There had been nothing special about that fateful night, save for the sex, which was always spectacular. It wasn't a full moon, the stars weren't aligned, it hadn't been a perfectly sunny day, matter of fact it had been _freezing_ , they had woken up to Twelve's first blizzard and neither of them had really been prepared.

But in what was typical blizzard behavior, they'd made their way downstairs, made a pallet full of the couch's cushions and their comforter, and they'd fucked each other senseless by the fireplace _all day_ , because even now, at their age, they did it like rabbits.

It's what they did whenever a blizzard struck.

So why _this_ particular day of pure physical pleasure was any different, Effie didn't know. They were drinking from the same wine glasses he'd bought all those years ago, Effie was using the old but amazing heating pad he'd gotten her in the Capitol, and she was wearing her favorite pink shirt with grey butterflies on it, and she was content. She had been lying on his chest, he was running his fingers through her hair, and he stated, seemingly out of the blue, right before she was drifting off from their exhausting round, "Marry me."

They were _old_. Not _that_ old, but she'd been in Twelve for several years now, and it had come as quite a shock, but she'd happily accepted because she _loved_ him, and she had insisted on a ring, had flat out refused to budge on it.

Now she was in the Capitol, searching for the perfect wedding ring, in hopes that she could find something that would relay how much she loved him without being so over the top.

It _had_ to be perfect.

And she'd certainly know it when she found it.

He never took the ring off. It was his, something to prove that he loved her and she loved him, that he had _chose_ her, and when she revealed the ring to him at their toasting he stared at it for a good five minutes without saying a word.

She put it on him, at his request, and it hadn't left his ring finger since.

Some things changed over the years. She broke one of her original wine glasses, deemed the set incomplete, and had asked him to go and buy another set. Willow threw up on the yellow curtains Haymitch had surprised her with, and the originals had long since been discontinued, so they'd gotten new drapes. The throw rug was replaced with heated floors one year.

But one thing that remained consistent was his ring, the love Haymitch had for Effie, and the way that ring would always symbolize their union and love for each other.

And that? That kind of knowledge, that kind of _happiness_ couldn't be brought.

It was priceless.

* * *

A/N: SERIOUSLY thinking about doing this in Effie's POV, like a 5x Effie went shopping for Haymitch and the one time Haymitch went shopping for her. What do y'all think?


	248. Capitol vs Rebel

**CAPITOL VS REBEL**

 **Rated T**

The first thing he saw when the elevator doors opened was the two of them, forehead against forehead, his hand wrapped around her waist, her arms against his chest, both of them breathing deeply.

It was… _intimate_ seemed like the appropriate word, and it was just one of many moments that made him think that those two meant more to each other than even they knew.

 _She_ might be a little more open to the idea, but _him_? He'd fight it tooth and nail, probably until the day he died.

He watched them for a few moments, giving them their moment. They _deserved_ this moment, but it couldn't last forever.

"Haymitch."

Haymitch jerked at the sound of his voice, and Chaff stared into the dark grey eyes of his best friend.

He saw the switch, going from ecstatic to having Victors to the realization of what it all meant. Chaff saw the fear in his best mate's eyes, and he could do nothing for him. They both knew. They _knew_ what it meant. That girl… the Uprisings… the _berries_ …. They were in deep _shit_ , and they had to act _now_.

Chaff had been waiting for this moment from the moment he'd been Reaped. He had conspired with Paylor, Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, Johanna, Finnick, Mags, and Seeder.

Now that it was here, he damn near thought he might have a heart attack.

He started to walk towards Haymitch and noticed it was Effie stepping towards him.

The Darling of the Capitol.

Model extraordinaire.

Vixen.

Temptress.

She'd had Haymitch wrapped around her dainty little finger for _years_. Chaff had always said she was different. It was an age old argument he had with Haymitch whenever he let the fact that Effie was Capitol get the best of him. Right when he figured he'd convinced Haymitch, here Johanna Mason comes along and he had to start the process all over again.

Chaff and Trinket had a complicated relationship to say the least. They both cared a great deal for Haymitch, Effie probably more so than Chaff, as Chaff was always the source of Haymitch's trouble. Mix a rebellious friend with booze and you got in trouble _a lot_. Trinket was usually the one to get them out of trouble, she cared like no other Capitol cared, not just for Haymitch but for all of them.

He wasn't aware how different she was until Finnick confided in him that she bought time with him in the Capitol so that he wouldn't be forced to prostitute himself every single time he was in the Capitol.

She _looked_ very much like the Capitol puppet she was supposed to be, but she wasn't.

There was something… _different_ about her, even more different than before.

Both Effie and Haymitch were already dressed. Cato had been dying for _hours_ now, long enough for Effie and Haymitch and the rest of Panem to know that Katniss or Peeta would walk away a winner. She looked smart in her sequenced emerald green mermaid dress, Haymitch wearing a blazer to match,

Cinna and Portia's doing, of course.

Chaff could picture it: the conclusion that Effie and Haymitch must have come to when they realized that _they would have a winner_.

But when the girl had put those berries to her lips, declaring that the Capitol wouldn't get a winner, the same girl who'd riled up Chaff's own District, Chaff had felt something inside of him warming up.

Catching fire, if you will.

He'd come up to Twelve's floor because it was the only thing he could bloody think to do. The minute Claudius Templesmith had belted out that there would be _two_ Hunger Game Victors, Chaff had left his suite before Seeder could stop him.

It was Effie's voice that stopped him now.

"Chaff. You shouldn't be here." Chaff stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Effie Trinket.

Effie Trinket, who should have been running around like a chicken with her head cut off at the prospect of having two Victors.

Chaff had been around his fair share of winning Escorts, and they were _always_ hysterical, and a blubbering mess of shocked and happy tears.

Effie Trinket should have been bubblegum pink happy.

Instead her blue eyes were fierce as she looked at him.

At that moment Cinna and Portia appeared, almost as if on cue.

"She's right," stated Cinna, looking at Chaff. "You shouldn't be."

Effie was in front of him, her eyes boring into his. "You need to get to the Victor's Lounge and welcome Haymitch as if this were an ordinary year." She looked at all of them now. " _Nothing_ changes, you hear me?" Her voice was fierce, and authoritative. " _Nothing_ can change. You welcome Haymitch like you would any other Victor, Chaff. Go. _Go_!"

She did not wait to see if he would obey. Instead she turned to Cinna. Chaff stared, unblinking, as she approached Cinna, and then his brown eyes looked at Haymitch.

Haymitch, who hadn't said a word since Effie had started talking, his mouth open, his grey eyes shocked.

"Cinna. She is but a girl." Cinna was already nodding. "A girl, young and in love. Foolishly in love." Effie looked at Portia. "You were young and in love once. Make her… make her girly. Big, poufy dress. Flats, no heels. Curls. Minimal makeup."

Portia nodded, once, as if she was used to taking orders from Effie.

Now she rounded on Haymitch. "You know what they do to female Victors. Do _not_ let them alter her, Haymitch. She'll need coaching. She's young, and in love."

Haymitch just stared at her.

"And Peeta?" asked Portia.

Effie shook her head. "He's already there," stated Effie softly. Those arctic blue eyes rested back on Chaff. " _Why_ are you still here? You need to get to the Victor's Lounge. When you're huddling with Finnick and Johanna and Seeder _please_ try not to look too worried. You coming here was a mistake, we are lucky that Beetee came and ran interference after Rue was killed."

Haymitch finally found his voice. "How the hell did you know Beetee—"

"Who do you think made the call?" Cinna asked softly.

Haymitch stared at Effie as if he was seeing her for the first time, and Chaff imagined he looked pretty much the same way.

"Chaff, you have ten seconds to remove yourself from our premises." Effie's voice had taken on that tone, that tone that meant she wouldn't be argued with, and it was what finally convinced Chaff that she was _really_ Effie and not some robot attempting to trap them.

He knew she was different, but _this_ different?

Chaff took one last look at Haymitch, who was still staring at Effie as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Chaff was on the elevator when he saw the switch, the way Trinket visibly squared her shoulders, painted on a smile, and her eyes brightened considerably.

The last thing he heard before the doors closed was Effie saying, "How _wonderful_ , we have _Victors_. We finally have a pair of pearls."

Chaff couldn't understand how the hell he was supposed to head down to the Victor's Lounge and act _normal_ now.

A kid taking down Panem he could handle.

But Effie Trinket, a _Rebel_?

It made him wonder who the _real_ winner of District Twelve was.

He needed a drink.

* * *

A/N: So I'm somewhat obsessed with Chaff lol and I thought this concept was pretty original.

Also, if I'm to a "Shopping is a Habit" from Effie's POV, I could really use you guy's brains as to what things I should have Effie shop for. Clothes, obviously, but what else? I'm kind of drawing a blank. I'd love to hear your prompts/ideas.


	249. Never Letting Him Go

" _Effie's dad is connected to the games and she meets Haymitch shortly after his games. They meet up every year and as the years go by they develop a fondness for each other. Effie can see haymitch deteriote over the years and decides to become an escort to look after him." –Nkneeshaw._

 _Don't know why The Fray's 'Never Say Never' came to mind when I read this prompt, but I'ma make it do what it do baby._

 **NEVER LETTING HIM GO**

 **Rated T+ (language)**

Some things we don't talk about  
Rather do without  
And just hold the smile  
Falling in and out of love  
Ashamed and proud of  
Together all the while

You can never say never  
While we don't know when  
But time and time again  
Younger now than we were before

Don't let me go  
Don't let me go  
Don't let me go

When she met him she was thirteen. She technically shouldn't have been allowed at the party, but figuring he was only sixteen and she was famous enough in her own right, she was there. Not to mention her father was directly involved in the Games – he was the one who actually wrote the cards, his hand writing was legendary, so he had a few strings of his own to pull.

She could remember being nervous and excited, because the Quell Victor was just _so_ handsome, and really all she wanted was a dance. It shouldn't be too much to ask, sure people would be throwing themselves at him – who wouldn't with his long hair, bright eyes and smart mouth – but she was at least around his age, and that should count for something, right?

She took _hours_ to get ready, it was the first time she had ever truly cared about her appearance. Though she modeled now she really didn't like it. She was good at it, sure, because she was pretty and she got to play dress up, but she didn't particularly like it.

The night of his Victory Ball she decided to go with a shimmering pink dress that made her look a little older than she was. Her mother did her makeup, but didn't put much on. She was only thirteen and it wasn't proper for a young girl to wear makeup yet if she wasn't on the runway. "You are a lady, not a prostitute," her mother had said as she highlighted Effie's natural features. "You can't be seen looking like me just yet. You can't wear a wig either, but you'll be able to soon."

"Yes, Mother," said Effie quietly, trying not to pout. She wanted to look her best for Haymitch, but she hadn't developed into her best yet. She tried no to be sad about that. Either he would like her or he wouldn't.

She'd find out in a few hours.

The party was to _die_ for. It wasn't her first Capitol party by any means – her parents had hosted a few over the years, and not to mention Effie was Sponsored by Chanel and had to be seen in at least five outfits a month, so she _had_ to make public appearances and attend parties if she was going to be a socialite. But she'd never been to Snow's Mansion before, and she was quite excited.

She had no idea if the butterflies were from the possibility of meeting Haymitch or if it was because of where she was.

It didn't take her long to realize she probably wouldn't be able to meet Haymitch. Everyone was crowded around him, men and women alike, not to mention a lot of girls who were much prettier and much older than Effie.

Ever the lady, she tried not to pout. She just mixed and mingled, introducing herself to other prominent members of the Capitol. She found herself rather surprised that so many of them knew her. She had only been modeling for a few years and most people did not know about child models.

She had actually gotten a few cards, a few people claimed they wanted to work with her, so she figured the party wasn't a complete bust, even if she didn't get to meet the current Quarter Quell Victor.

Still, she was slightly disappointed.

She was standing at the bar – the _kid's_ bar, filled with the Capitol's best drinks, all of them non-alcoholic – when she sensed his presence. Haymitch Abernathy definitely had a _presence_ about him: aside from being tall, dark, and handsome, he had an air of security about him that made people look up and pay attention.

Effie turned around and found herself staring into the most startling eyes she'd ever seen. She thought she could get lost in them for the rest of her life, and she figured she looked like an idiot just standing there gaping.

Then she remembered her manners. Clearing her throat, she put on her best smile. "Hello, Mr. Abernathy. I am Euphemia Trinket. It is nice to meet you."

He looked at her with quiet curiosity. "You look normal," Haymitch stated.

Effie blinked rapidly. "That, Sir, is _rude_."

"No, I mean you don't look like the other clowns in this city. Your face ain't made up—"

"Isn't," corrected Effie immediately.

"Like everyone else's. It's a nice change of pace," Haymitch continued as if she hadn't interrupted.

"I am not allowed to wear makeup yet."

"You don't need makeup. You're pretty. I mean… you'll probably be pretty once you grow up. You're cute enough now." Effie blushed. "You're probably the realest girl here. Don't change, okay?"

With that he walked up to the bar and ordered his drink. Effie hesitated and then continued to strike up a conversation. They ended up talking for the rest of the night. He told her about his girlfriend back home – and _that_ hurt more than she thought it would – but he was funny and kept her laughing.

At the end of the night he tugged her hair, his eyes teasing. "You're easy to talk to, you know that?" Effie smiled. "I hope we meet again. You're different, and I like that."

And then he was gone. Effie was sad to see him go.

…

When the Victory Tour came Effie was ecstatic. Once again her father had gotten her an invitation, and she spent _weeks_ trying to get ready. She talked with her designer and helped create her dress – Seam grey, she had stated, and she had found it nearly impossible to find the perfect shade of grey, but once she did she wanted to wear it for the rest of her life.

Her mother had been quite disappointed at her wardrobe choice. "Trinket's stand out," Cleara had stated. "Grey is such a lackluster color."

Effie had tried her hardest to hide her disappointment. She thought the dress was stunning and nothing like she'd ever worn before. She had thought her mother would be happy for her, but of course she wasn't.

"Well I do have something that'll help bring out that awful dress," exclaimed Cleara, a purple drink in her hand. "I think it is time for you to wear your first wig."

Effie barely held in a squeal of excitement as she followed her mother into her bedroom. They walked into her walk-in closet and rounded the corner, where Cleara kept all of her wigs.

"I wanted to start you off with something simple, but since your dress is so plain I'll have to find something else. I do not want you to look too much older – you will have plenty of time to lie about your age when you are older – but I want you to look sophisticated. Your career is starting to take off and you need to look the part." Cleara started searching through her many wigs, pulling out several boxes. She started a yes and maybe pile.

Effie stood by and let her mother work. By the time Cleara Trinket had found a few suitable wigs Effie was quite hungry. They took a break to go and eat and then Effie and her mother made their way to the bathroom where Effie learned the art of trying on wigs.

The process took _hours_ and Effie secretly thought it was more trouble than it was worth. Cleara seemed to know what her daughter was thinking. "The first time is always the most time-consuming. It is traditional that mothers teach their daughters about wigs first, but being that you are a model most of your wigs will be picked out for you along with your outfit. I had assumed you would go with a better dress so I did not expect this particular time to take so long. I must admit there are other things I would rather be doing."

Effie kept her face blank – having Cleara Trinket for a mother taught her that she had to keep her thoughts and opinions to herself often – and bit her tongue to refrain from stating that she would also rather be doing something other than listening to her mother drone on about the latest Capitol gossip and chastise Effie about her dress.

After another hour Effie and her mother had two wigs they were trying to decide on. Effie liked one while her mother liked the other one. They were going back and forth on why the one they wanted was best for her.

"Honestly, Mother, am I not old enough to make my own decisions?" asked Effie.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" Cleara scoffed. "I let you design your own dress and you messed that up terribly."

"I did _not_ ," snapped Effie. "It is exactly what I wanted, it is beautiful, just like the color of Haymitch's eyes."

Cleara stilled and stared at her daughter. "Is _that_ why you picked that color? Effie Trinket are you _insane_? Please do not tell me you have a crush on that District boy. For heaven's sake he's from _Twelve_. That is only the lowest of the low. I have my doubts about you, child, but even _you_ can do better than that." Cleara laughed good-naturedly. "Trust me, Mummy knows best, okay? Go with the brunette wig. It is important for people to forget about your real hair, it is plain and ordinary. In fact you should shy away from blonde until you are older. No one should ever see your real hair, Euphemia, it is not proper." Cleara handed Effie the wig. "Now go and put this in a safe place. I will help you get ready for the Victory Ball tomorrow night, okay?"

"Yes, Mother," Effie said, and she made her way to her room.

Yet despite what her mother had said, Effie was well received at the ball the next night.

At least mostly.

Coral gave her a back handed compliment – "Effie, that wig looks great on you, it does a good job of hiding those ears of yours – " but that was just Coral, so Effie paid the girl no attention.

Besides, she was looking for Haymitch.

It took her hours to find him. The Victory Ball was always more packed than the Victory Dinner and the party was standing room only. She had caught a glimpse of him earlier near the bar – the _adult_ bar, and Effie knew she wasn't allowed over there, and she briefly wondered what _he_ was doing there. He certainly wasn't of age either.

When she finally found him again he was talking to Coral, and that she could not allow, so she walked over towards them, trying to mind her manners and not run, but it was tempting. He saw her approach and he looked her over, his eyes recognizing her, but he didn't _remember_ , remember her, she could tell.

"Hello, Haymitch," Effie said quietly. She glanced at Coral and gave the girl a slight nod as to not be rude. They were, after all, best friends.

"I know you, don't I?" asked Haymitch.

Effie's smile was strained for two reasons: one, she was supposed to be memorable. It was what she prided herself on, it was what she worked hard for. Two, Haymitch was… _different_. Not in a good way. Sadder. Darker. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a full glass of _real_ liquor in his hand.

"We met six months ago, at your Victory Dinner," Effie responded.

Haymitch frowned. "Don't call it that," snapped the Victor, and Effie arched an eyebrow.

"I do not care too much for you talking to me in that tone," Effie said coolly.

Haymitch studied her, taking a drink. "I think I do remember you. You called me rude because I said you looked normal." Coral snickered and both Haymitch and Effie looked at her. Haymitch turned back to Effie. "You look different."

"I could say the same thing about you."

"Yah, I reckon I do look different. Haven't had a goodnight sleep in six months, have I?"

Effie's heart dropped to her stomach. There was something accusatory in his voice that rubbed her the wrong way.

"Let's get outta here," Haymitch finally said after a few tense moments.

Effie perked up. "What, leave the party?"

"Yah, why not?"

"Well for one, it is highly unprofessional. You are the guest of honor. Two—"

"Shit, I didn't think you'd actually respond."

Effie gasped. " _Language_ , Mr. Abernathy. It is not proper to curse in front of lady."

Haymitch scowled. "You're at a Victory Ball with a man who _killed_ people to get here, and you're worried about my _language_?" Haymitch snorted and threw back the rest of your drink. "You Capitols have your priorities all fucked up."

Effie was stunned, and blinked after him as he started to walk away. After a few seconds she followed him. He didn't say anything to her as he made his way to a secluded part of the mansion.

"What's wrong?" asked Effie.

Haymitch snorted again. "I think the real question is what's right?"

Effie looked at him. "What _happened_ to you, Haymitch?"

He snarled at her, his eyes dark. "Yah, I guess you wouldn't know." He turned away from her and stared blankly ahead, resting his head back. He let out a soft sigh. "The Games ain't what you think they are. At all. They're… I mean… I can't sleep. I still see their faces. The eight people I killed… those kids were somebody's sons and daughters and… I _had_ to. And Maysilee…." Haymitch sighed and dug into his pocket, pulling out the Mockingjay pin. "Her death is on me, too. I should give this back to her parents, but I _can't_. How do I face them?"

Effie stared at him, speechless. She'd never met a Victor before but she didn't think she liked hearing this from him. The Games were supposed to be _fun_. She'd been watching the Games for years now, but she'd never thought about them like this before.

"I am sorry," Effie finally said.

"No you're not," snorted Haymitch. "You don't know sorry. You don't even know _pain_." His voice was cold, and he wasn't looking at her. "You're not all that different, are you? You'll grow up and be just like the rest of them, and you'll worship the ground Snow walks on. But he's not a good person. Not at all. He _kills_ people, not just in that Arena, but he plays God even in the Districts. It's not even just about being so poor you can barely eat. It's coming home to your mother and girl dead, because you outsmarted him."

"Haymitch, _what_ are you talking about? You are not making any sense."

He looked at her, and the look on his face terrified her. "I make perfect sense. You and your stupid Capitol are just too senseless to understand." He stood up, looking her over. He reached out to touch her wig and Effie flinched – it wasn't proper for anyone to see her real hair.

"I told you not to change," he told her, and shaking his head, he left.

Effie hated to see him go.

…

As the years passed and she got older she started going to the Hunger Game events. Sometimes she saw Haymitch, but he never saw her. She always kept her distance, because she had definitely changed. She was a Capitol citizen, and on top of that she was extremely famous – Effie Trinket, child model all grown up – so she had to dress the part. She couldn't bare the thought of him seeing her like that, but sometimes she thought she should approach him, because seeing _him_ like this was destroying her.

He'd changed too.

She saw him with Chaff most years. They were inseparable, actually, and the two of them were often seen drinking together.

A lot.

Cleara Trinket always pointed out Haymitch's drinking, even as she sipped on her third glass in ten minutes.

Effie ignored her mother's gibes, though, because they were true. Haymitch _was_ drinking a lot, and on top of that, his District was always the first to go. His Escort, whatever her name was, could not control him, and Haymitch hardly showed up to events, and if he did, he was really late and really drunk.

When Effie was seventeen Haymitch was arrested for disorderly conduct for the first time.

She went to her father that night and declared that she wanted to be an Escort.

Her father had been against it from the very beginning. "You are a jewel, Effie, and you don't want anything to destroy your shine."

"The Games won't do that, Daddy," Effie said. "If anything they will give me the fame and glory I am after. I thought you'd be happy, _you're_ an important part of the Games."

"I set in stone people's death, Effie," stated Treadmont quietly. "That is what I do. And you as an Escort will end up picking those names. That's the reality of it, Effie."

She had never heard her father talk like that, she knew that kind of talk was forbidden, but she did not let it deter her.

Her mother was over the moon with excitement though. She was in total agreement with Effie becoming an Escort. Effie used that to her advantage and together she and her mother convinced her father to put in a good word for her.

The process was simple enough. At the very end of the interviewing process they handed her a list with four Districts on them. She could pick which one she wanted to work for.

Six, Nine, Ten, or Eleven.

"Is Twelve not available?" asked Effie, and the woman blinked at her.

"Twelve is _always_ available. Haymitch tends to make his Escorts quit as soon as they start, I did not even want to try and offer you that one. It would just mean you would be back in my office in a few weeks and that's just more paperwork."

Effie leaned in close. "You do not have to worry about me. I am a winner, and will whip Haymitch into shape. I will take Twelve."

The woman shrugged, shaking her head a little, and Effie walked out with a smile on her face.

She certainly had her work cut out for her. He didn't recognize her when she stepped into his house and introduced herself on Reaping Day of the 55th Hunger Games. He was even meaner and crueler and by the time they were on the train she didn't think she'd ever talk to him again.

But she didn't give up.

He treated her horribly and left her in tears on more than one occasion, and one year, during the 59th Hunger Games, after they'd had a particularly bad fight and she'd hurled a glass at his head – it was her first time being violent with him, and she had accused him of rubbing off on her, and that had sliced him open like knife – and she had disappeared into her room for the rest of the night.

The next day at breakfast he asked her why she kept coming back, year after year.

"Because some has to take care of you," she told him.

The next year, during the 60th Hunger Games, after he'd gotten drunker than usual due to the frenzy around his Games – Effie couldn't believe it had been ten years, and she couldn't imagine how it felt for him – she showed him who she was.

She went to his room and found him sitting on his bed, his head in his hand.

"Go away, Effie, I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures."

Effie closed the door. "You told me once I was easy to talk to," Effie said tentatively. "Years ago, at a Victory Dinner." He looked up and gaped. She had her dress on, but her blonde hair was loose and her face was without makeup.

She saw it, the flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Euphemia… Effie." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Holy fucking _shit_ , Princess."

"Haymitch—"

"Why has it taken you so long to say anything?"

"You hate me."

"You're a _Capitol Escort_. Yah, I fucking _hate_ you. But Euphemia? Shit, I think of that girl all the time. I couldn't remember her face…."

"The _her_ you are referring to is _me_."

"You were a model, weren't you?"

"I _am_ a model, yes."

He shook his head and stood up, swaying slightly. "How the hell did you get involved in this shit? I told you not to change. You were… young. Innocent."

"You stripped me of that innocence on your Victory Tour," Effie reminded him. "I only changed on the surface. _You_ changed on the inside. You are cold and cruel and a drunk."

"Well don't hold back," snarled Haymitch.

"It is true, Haymitch. I am concerned."

Haymitch cackled out a laugh. "Never met a concerned Capitol before."

"And I've never met such a whiny Victor."

He slit his eyes at her. "You're still an annoying pain in my ass," he concluded, and Effie smiled.

"Then we are even, Mr. Abernathy."

" _Fuck_ , Effie, what are you doing?"

Effie cleared her throat. "Waiting for you to come to your senses and stop wallowing in self-pity so that we can do something to ensure there are no more Haymitch Abernathy's out there."

He didn't say anything for a long time. He just looked at her. "Are you _crazy_?"

"My father is involved in the Games." He inhaled sharply. "He writes the cards. When I told him I wanted to be an Escort do you know what he said? He stated that he writes the cards that sentences children do their deaths. Those don't exactly sound like the words of a Capitol citizen, does it?"

Haymitch stilled. Effie reached into her dress and pulled out a card and handed it to Haymitch.

 _Plutarch Heavensbee_ , it read.

"Talk to him."

"How'd you get this?" asked Haymitch.

Effie eyed him. "You already know who that is." Haymitch remained silent. "Oh. I see." Effie turned to leave.

"I didn't know," called Haymitch, grabbing her arm. "How the hell was I supposed to know I could trust you? I didn't know you were you. You don't get to hold this against me. You've _changed_."

"So have you, but I still see you, Haymitch."

"Effie—"

"Goodnight, Haymitch."

He pulled her back to him and wrapped his arms around her. It took her a few seconds to respond but she finally wrapped her arms back around him.

"I didn't _know_ ," he told her.

Effie paused. "I know."

"Don't let me go," he whispered, and she wondered if it were an accident.

Effie inhaled deeply. "I won't," she vowed.

…

Effie stepped into the living room of the Penthouse. All eyes were on her: Cinna's, Portia's, Haymitch's. "My father confirmed it: he re-wrote the the Quarter Quell." Haymitch inhaled sharply and Effie looked at him. "Plutarch himself told him what to write."

"I'm gonna kill him," Haymitch said darkly.

"There's a bigger plan in place, of course, though he wouldn't tell me what. I am sure Plutarch will reach out to you eventually. For now, we need to worry about Katniss and Peeta. Cinna, you need to go and finish prepping her, Portia, you with Peeta." Cinna and Portia nodded and left the Penthouse.

Effie started to leave when Haymitch grabbed her. "You're too thick in this thing, Effie. You know too much."

"Do not worry, I am playing my part well."

"Do you think they will care?"

"I am a Capitol citizen, they won't touch me."

"You put too much faith in your _fucking_ citizenship. They won't hesitate to kill any of you if they suspect you."

"They have no reason to suspect anything, Haymitch."

He tugged her to him and she gasped. "You're annoying, a smart ass, you always argue with me, you're bossy, and no one gets under my skin the way you do. But if something happens to you, Effie…." His hands made their way down her body and rested on her hips. "I lost someone important to me once, I'll be damned if it happens again, so don't just _brush me off_ when I say I'm concerned."

Effie sighed. "I am not brushing you off, I promise. I think you are paranoid." He kissed her, hard. "We don't have _time_ for this, Haymitch. I need to start meeting with Sponsors."

"There's always time for this," he disagreed.

" _Now_ who's arguing?" smiled Effie.

She made time, because they _always_ made time, and had since the 61st Hunger Games. Fourteen years and he could _still_ make her body tremble. They hadn't had a lot of time for this since the Victory Tour, but he took his time with her this day.

She was about to leave his room when he called after her.

"Play your part well, get rid of that _stupid_ Mockingay wig, and act dumb and ditzy. I'm already worried about Katniss and Peeta, I'm not adding you to that list. I won't have this conversation with you again."

She touched her wig, poking out her lip.

"I won't argue about this, Effie. I'm serious. Get rid of it."

She stared at him and then nodded, walking back up to him and wrapping her arms around him.

No matter what happened, she was never letting him go.

* * *

 _I left this open: you can follow the book-verse or the movie-verse. Either Effie gets captured or she goes to 13. Your choice =)_


	250. Her Heart

If this isn't a Hayffie song IDK what else is. Anthony Hamilton's 'Her Heart' is the inspiration for this fic.

I had a habit of messing up  
Staying out late and getting drunk  
I let you down a thousand times  
Broken promises  
It's like i ran away from you  
My career was my excuse  
Until i saw you about to drown in your own tears

And as you cried in my arms  
You woke up my heart  
And i saw again what i found in you  
Cuz her heart her heart won't let me lose her  
No matter how i try  
I just can't say goodbye and lose her

When all the folks were said and done  
You were there to welcome me home  
I was convicted cuz your love never wavered  
I know you love me more than me  
And you vowed to love through anything  
I never had a kind of love that was forever

And as you cried in my arms  
You woke up my heart  
And i saw again what i found in you  
Cuz her love her love won't let me lose her  
No matter how i try  
I just can't say goodbye and lose her

 **HER HEART**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch prided himself on not getting attached. He _wouldn't_ , the Capitol had seen to that, anybody he _might_ care about had a death sentence hung over their heads, and he'd killed enough people over the years without voluntarily adding more.

Effie Trinket, for all her quirks about manners and respect, had barged into his life without giving him a single warning, and had snuck her way into his heart before he'd even known it had happened.

He messed up _a lot_ , he was a fuck up and he knew he was a fuck up, he stayed out late getting drunk more often than not, and he left her disappointed more times than he could count, he made promises he knew he couldn't keep, and he ran away from her whenever things got too deep.

He didn't care until the day she broke down.

Effie didn't _break_. She was determined, annoying, more than a fucking hurricane she was a fucking _wrecking ball_ , one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet of wildfire.

Walking in on her hyperventilating put a stop to everything.

He approached her, tentatively, unsure of how she'd react to him approaching her, but when he touched her she didn't recoil but held on to him like a lifeline.

It was there, her crying in his arms, that woke up his heart.

He _saw_ her.

How human she was. How much she hurt.

How much _he_ hurt her….

She was all he had left. Peeta and Katniss… really, they had each other, and half the time he felt like he was just getting in the way, so he tried to stay out of their way.

But Effie had been there when there was no one else; she had been there when he hadn't even known he _needed_ anyone.

She never wavered.

Her _love_ never wavered.

She definitely loved him more than he loved himself, she vowed to love him through any and everything, he had never known love could last forever, he thought it was a myth, something for child's play.

No matter what, she was something to come back home to.

He'd never had anything to return home for.

As time passed, and days turned into weeks and weeks into months and months into years, Haymitch would always be thankful for Effie's heart.

It was all he'd ever had, and it was more than enough.

It was why he fell asleep on her chest, listening to her heart.

Because of that, he would never let go.

He had tried, but he wasn't meant to say goodbye.

Her heart wouldn't let him lose her.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, got a few song fic requests, I'll try to write them, but in the mean time, I could use some more prompts. No matter how small or if you don't have all the details yet, it doesn't matter. Thanks. Some Halloween prompts would be GREAT, that's coming up!


	251. Sandcastles

Not a Beyonce stan, but I felt like this song was so Hayffie.

We built sand castles that washed away  
I made you cry when I walked away  
Oh, and although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby  
Every promise don't work out that way, oh, babe  
Every promise don't work out that way

And your heart is broken 'cause I walked away  
Show me your scars and I won't walk away  
Oh, and I know I promised that I couldn't stay, baby  
Every promise don't work out that way, no no no no no  
Every promise don't work out that way

 **SANDCASTLES**

 **Rated T**

She had _ruined_ him, he mused, his third bottle in as many hours clinking to the floor.

He had hoped – _hoped_ – that she would come back to Twelve with him and Katniss, but the broken dishes she had thrown at his head was proof that she would _not_ be joining him, and there would be no finally making his house into a home.

He'd only ever built her a castle, made out of sand, too easily to wash away on shore.

Nothing sturdy. Nothing _solid_. Nothing real.

It was nearly a year since she had promised she'd never see him again.

Today made exactly one year that the Rebels had made it into the Capitol.

He knew it was worth it. He'd convinced himself it had been worth it, despite the deaths and the broken hearts and the _irony_ of it all, to fight and kill for a world where he could love his Escort, only she didn't exactly love him back anymore.

She was the first woman he'd cared about who had willingly walked away from him. The others had either been damaged or worse, dead, and he wasn't sure what hurt worse at the moment.

He'd drink so he wouldn't have to think about that.

Or think about her tears. She'd cried when she found out he'd left her behind. Cried as if he had betrayed her, and in a way, he had, and she had refused to accept his plea to understand that he thought she was safer in the Capitol, she hadn't known anything and she was _Effie Trinket_ , the fucking Darling of the Capitol, she was untouchable.

At least she was supposed to be.

He didn't know it could hurt this badly.

She had broken him.

Damaged, beyond repair.

And no matter how often he tried, he couldn't fill that empty void with anything other than pain, bitterness, and sorrow.

And liquor. Always liquor.

When she showed up on his doorstep one stormy day he thought it was the thunder, until finally she'd opened the door and made her way inside. She stood there, drenched, and Haymitch just stared at her, not really believing his eyes. He wasn't drunk, he was nearly out of liquor so he was saving what he had until the next train arrived, and he wasn't nearly sober enough to start having hallucinations, so for the longest time he just stared at her.

"Haymitch." Her calling his name seemed to break him out of his trance more than anything, so he made to get up off of the couch, stumbling towards her, more so in shock than with drunkenness, and stood in front of her, his hands moving on their own accord and feeling her face; he had to know if she was _real_.

"Princess," he finally breathed, and he was nearly floored with the weight of it, it should have _terrified_ him, how happy he was to see her, only for the first time in nearly a year he felt like he was on solid ground. "Tell me this is real. Tell me this is _fucking_ real."

"It is," was all Effie said, and even that wasn't enough, nothing was enough until he noticed the single suitcase next to the door, and then he had pulled her towards him and she was in his arms, and he didn't care that she was soaking wet.

"You promised you'd never see me again," he muttered against her neck, his heart pounding.

She gently pushed him away so that those vacant blue eyes bored into his stormy grey ones. She gave him wry smile. "We both know promises do not work out that way, Haymitch."

That much he knew. They _sucked_ at keeping promises to each other, he had promised to hate her, that had failed; he had promised to be indifferent, that had failed; he had promised to make her quit being his Escort, that had failed; and above all others he had promised to keep her safe, and that had _certainly_ failed.

But out of all the broken promises, he was glad for this one.

She was timid around him at first, and he realized he had to show her his scars before she could really forgive him for it all, but somehow they got through the worst of it.

They had lived through the worst of it, anything else might not had easy but it damn sure wasn't as bad as before. There were bad days and there were worse days but eventually there were _good_ days, and Haymitch never thought he'd have good days.

They stopped making promises and instead made a vow, a vow to love each other until death do them part, and Haymitch found himself praying to a God he wasn't sure even existed that he would go before Effie, because he _wouldn't_ ever live without her again.

They had once made a living on broken promises, but they remained true to their vows.

Promises don't always work out the way you plan, but he vowed to make things always work with her.

They'd gone from sandcastles to a _home_ , and that seemed to work out just fine.


	252. The Least They Could Do

_This is one of my favorites that I wrote well over a year ago. Hope you agree._

* * *

 **THE LEAST THEY COULD DO**

 **Rated T+**

Haymitch, Chaff, and Finnick, were all slumped against the wall, their clothes soiled, their ties loosened, their shirts halfway unbuttoned. Johanna's legs were spread, her dress ripped on the side, and the straps around her neck were barely holding her dress together.

As bad as they looked, they felt even worse.

"Okay," slurred Haymitch. "Who's turn is it?"

"Not mine," Finnick stated. "She's not even at the Capitol party tonight. She's with one of the Sponsors, and if my group has any chance this year…." Finnick shrugged and turned to Johanna. "Jo?"

"Fuck no. My Escort hasn't spoken to me in two years. I don't even have a phone number for her."

Chaff sighed. "I don't even know why we're having this conversation. We all know the only one who's going to bail us out is Trinket." Chaff looked at his best friend with bloodshot eyes. "Call your Escort, Mate."

Haymitch shook his head, despite the fact that it was currently pounding. "I can't. She's mad at me."

"She's _always_ mad at you,'' Finnick pointed out, and Haymitch shook his head again.

"It's bad," said Haymitch. "Real bad."

"Is that what's been wrong with you?" Johanna asked, attempting to sit up a little to look passed Finnick and stare at Haymitch. "You've been moping around for three days. You mean to tell me it's because of your stupid Escort?"

Haymitch scowled.

"What happened?" Finnick inquired.

Haymitch waited a few minutes before responding. "I overheard her when she was talking to you the other day in the elevator…. You know, when she said she'd see you next week? Let's just say I made quite a few incorrect assumptions about what she meant."

Haymitch wished for a drink when it finally hit Finnick what Haymitch was accusing him of… accusing both him _and_ Effie of. The betrayal evident in his eyes were obvious.

"I wasn't so much accusin' you," Haymitch tried to clarify. "I jus…. I didn't hear wrong, did I? I heard what I heard, I jus… misunderstood."

Finnick remained quiet for a few moments. "How upset is she?"

"She hasn't talked to me in three days." Not to mention she hadn't touched him, either. Hell she didn't even _look_ at him…. He _missed_ her. "Effie can pretend like nothing's wrong like nobody else, she never lets anyone see her sweat. She's the Escort for Twelve. We're the worst District but she's the most popular Escort because she knows how to handle me and she knows what she's doing. I'm telling you she's out to leave me dry this time, she won't give a rat's ass that I'm in Capitol jail."

"And she shouldn't," Finnick said. "That's low… even for you."

Haymitch sighed. "I know. I just assumed the worst."

In reality he'd seen red.

The night was going okay. For once Effie was tipsy at the Capitol party and they were teasing her, but she wasn't as uptight as she normally was, and damn it they were having _fun_ , until Coral came and tried to ruin it. Tipsy Effie was nowhere near as poised as sober Effie, so Haymitch took that as their cue and they started making their way back to the Penthouse.

It was in the elevator when it'd happened. She'd been wrapped around him, because despite what she said about _his_ hands wandering when he was drunk, she was clingy, but he found he was okay with that lately. Her head was resting on his chest and her arms were around his waist and she was giggling about something, they all were.

And then they stopped on the fourth floor, and Effie had reached out to hug Finnick, said she'd see him when he was in the Capitol next week, and kissed him on the cheek.

She could have been talking about _anything_. Lunch. Dinner. Breakfast. _Brunch_. But his mind had automatically gone to the gutter and he'd assumed that Effie had bought time to sleep with Finnick.

He wasn't sure how he'd made it to their suite without exploding, but he'd stalked off to his room and immediately grabbed a bottle. He didn't even pour a glass, he just screwed off the top and threw it back.

She'd come into his room, as tempting as ever in a red little number that matched the color he saw behind his eyes.

"You ever wear that for Finnick?" he'd spat out, and it was all downhill from there.

He'd called her every name he could think of until she'd slapped him so hard he was temporarily rendered speechless.

"I do not sleep with Finnick," she had hissed, her voice wavering with rage. "I haven't slept with _anyone_ other than you, at least not for a while, but _especially_ not Finnick. He is but a child."

"But on the elevator you said—"

"I _buy_ time with Finnick so he isn't forced to prostitute every single moment he's in the Capitol."

Haymitch had frozen, his mouth open, and closed his eyes, trying to figure out the best way to apologize.

"Effie—"

"You know," she stated, her eyes bright with tears, "I wouldn't mind you hating me, if you at least _knew_ me. But you don't. Eighteen years together, and you still hardly know me."

Those had been the last words she'd spoken to him, and he couldn't see himself calling her up and asking her to bail him out of jail.

"I'll call her," Finnick stated, slowly standing up. He looked down at Haymitch. "You fucking owe her an apology, whether she bails us out or not."

"It's his fucking Escort," snapped Johanna. "It's not that big of a deal."

"It is," Chaff disagreed. Chaff lowered his voice and looked at Haymitch. "You know your Escort's different. You've _got_ to come to grips with that."

Haymitch sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Yah, I know," he sighed.

"And whether you wanna admit it or not, you two have a thing for each other. I know you, you're my best mate. I suspect your anger with your assumption had less to do with Finnick and more to do with the thought of her with someone else. You were jealous but probably came across as judgmental, and Trinket won't take that lightly."

Haymitch stared at Chaff. "And who the fuck are you, my life coach?"

"No, I'm a man who's tired of seeing his best friend alone and miserable, and mistreat a good woman because he's too blind to see she's as much as a victim as we are. You keep going the rate you're goin' you'll end up as heartless as Jo."

Haymitch snarled, but didn't comment.

He wasn't sure what he could say.

Chaff, Haymitch, and Johanna sat in silence as they waited for Finnick to return. When he did he purposely sat next to Chaff.

"She'll be here shortly."

Shortly turned out to be fifteen minutes, and Haymitch had to give Effie credit. His Escort was good. Damned good. The guard opened the door.

"Let's go. You've made bail," he stated in a bored voice, and the four of them got up and made their way to the door. "Woe. Not you, Victor Abernathy."

Haymitch squinted at the guard. "What?"

"Ms. Trinket only bailed out Victor Mason, Johanna, Victor O'dair, Finnick, and Victor—"

"Yah, okay, I get it," sighed Haymitch, and he made his way back to the wall and sunk down. Johanna cackled out a laugh and Finnick didn't even look at him. Chaff arched an eyebrow and Haymitch waved him away.

He deserved it, he knew.

She'd never actually punished him before. She'd thrown his liquor down the drain when she was particularly upset, but it was way too easy to get access to the stuff and it never worked. She'd withheld sex on a few occasions, but normally she caved after the first day.

This was _different_.

Two hours later a different guard opened the door. "Your bail's been made, Victor Abernathy." Haymitch looked up and squinted at the man. "Come along."

Haymitch had sobered up some so it didn't take him long to stand up and make his way out of the cell. He followed the guard to the front desk, where he signed himself out.

Outside he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Effie.

"Do come along. I am tired and do not want to be waiting on you all night."

"I wasn't expecting you… you bailed the others out hours ago."

"I bailed you out too, but I told the guard to leave you in there until I said so." Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "I wouldn't have left you out to dry, no matter how tempting."

Her voice was still cool, but at least she was talking to him.

"I'll pay you back," Haymitch stated, and Effie waved that away.

"Do not be ridiculous. There is a budget that Escorts get for things just like this. As long as the arrest does not make the news then we are fine."

Her body was tense and she was hardly looking at him, so he stopped her so that she would face him.

"I'm an idiot, okay?" Haymitch stated.

" _That_ is made more and more obvious with each passing moment. I am quite cross with you, so it is going to take a little more than that."

"I'm _sorry_ , all _right_? I fucked up. I made an assumption and it was wrong. All wrong. I assumed the worst because I don't like the thought of you with anyone else, okay?"

Effie finally spared him a glance. "I am not seeing anyone else, Haymitch. Not that I would call what we do _seeing_ each other, and after these past few days you have proven you do not deserve my faithfulness, even if you have made it quite clear that we are not a couple. You have made it _abundantly_ clear that you are afraid of commitment, so there was never a point in telling you that I have not been with anyone else since Seneca."

Haymitch felt his heart drop down to his stomach. " _That_ resulted in an engagement."

"Yes I know. You were not all that happy with me then. I learned my lesson. You are possessive and territorial, and it used to be amusing, not to mention it made for great sex, but I promise you, Haymitch, if you ever accuse me of an atrocity like sleeping with a _prostitute_ , particularly one who is our friend and looks up to you like an older brother, you will find yourself harboring more than a hangover. I will get you drunk and you will wake up with no dick and no tongue. Are we _clear_?"

He didn't like threats but when they rolled off Effie's tongue it always made him hard. He wanted to pin her against a light post but would much rather have her underneath him.

"I don't like fighting with you," Haymitch mumbled, and she arched an eyebrow. "I mean not _really_ fighting with you. Discussing why I don't want to change my jacket to bring out my eyes and you ignoring me for three days are different levels of fighting."

Effie shrugged and started walking again. "No one makes me angrier than you, Haymitch."

Haymitch smirked. "Would you have it any other way, Princess?"

She sighed, clearly defeated. "No. I suppose not." She glanced at him slyly. "What do you say we hurry up so we can partake in make up sex?"

Haymitch barked out a laugh. He did that a lot around her, he realized. "I say it's the least I can do for you."

She made him do all the work, and for once he was okay with that. He hoped he showed her exactly what she meant to him, and why the thought of her with another man sent him over the edge. She responded eagerly, almost to assure him there was no one else.

Afterwards he rolled off of her, panting.

"That was amazing," breathed Effie. "If that is make up sex with you, I will allow you to say stupid things that make you sound even more stupid."

Haymitch remained silent, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Effie didn't seem to mind his silence.

"Your favorite color is pink," Haymitch finally stated. "Not the bright pinks that you wear to parties, but pink champagne." Effie stilled beside him, but he didn't look at her. "The only part of your body that you were every truly proud of was your eyes, before I taught you otherwise. If you had any say so, you'd be a fashion designer. You quit modeling because you'd been an Escort for five years and were no longer happy. You eat healthy but you like desserts, particularly anything with Oreos. Your favorite dessert is Oreo cheesecake. Your favorite fruit is peach. You indulge on peach cobbler waffles and try to convince yourself its healthy because of the peaches." There was a smile in his voice at that last statement that had Effie turning to look at him. "Your favorite pair of shoes are a pair of gold sequined Christian Louboutin shoes."

"Haymitch," whispered Effie, her eyes suspiciously bright.

"And most importantly," Haymitch finished, finally looking at her, "you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He reached out and touched her blonde curls. Most of her makeup had long been smudged off from all of their… endeavors, but he knew her well enough without it. "I don't much appreciate being accused of not knowing you." It was his _job_ to notice things.

" _Do you know that you love me_?" The question was on her lips, but she left it alone.

She had her answer.

Besides, if he admitted it, it would only freak him out. She imagined saying all this was difficult enough.

"I am sorry," was all she said instead, and he nodded.

"Get some sleep, Princess," Haymitch said. "I'm sure we have a big, big day tomorrow."

"We actually do. Lot of Sponsors to talk to." He rolled his eyes and waited until she drifted off before sneaking a kiss to her forehead, covering her, and heading to his own room.

He didn't know that she was _never_ that asleep. She _always_ waited for that forehead kiss.

It was the least she could do.

* * *

 _Haymitch is a little softer in this one. Don't ask me why =)_


	253. Playing Fair

" _District 13 where Coin has a thing for Haymitch and makes it pretty obvious. Haymitch decides to play along with it as he thinks it will help launch a rescue mission for the victors quicker. Needless to say everyone else is amused or mortified by Haymitch trying to charm Coin...Thanks again :)" –Nkneeshaw. I LOVE THIS PROMPT WITH ALL OF MY HEART AND SOUL… I had to add a jealous Effie in there, too. I do think it's a litte OOC for Coin but I just went with it cus it was fun!_

 **PLAYING FAIR**

 **Rated M**

The first time it happened was after the most boring meeting to date.

Haymitch only refrained from banging his head on the table because he knew Effie would have him by the balls if he did such a thing. It didn't matter that the meeting had been going on for _hours_ and that he was exhausted out of his mind. Nor did it matter that in Thirteen absolutely nobody would give a rat's _ass_ about his manners – or lack thereof – but his former Escort would slit her eyes at him and probably go the extreme and deny him sex for _weeks_ for displaying such rude behavior.

It would almost be worth it if Coin actually got the hint, but she was completely clueless to anything that wasn't power and control. She just went on and on, following her notes, completely oblivious to the fact that people had long stopped listening.

Haymitch was just about to start dozing off when Coin stated, "And that concludes my thoughts on that. Is there anything else anybody wants to talk about?"

Both Effie and Plutarch stared at Haymitch expectantly. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Yah, actually," said Haymitch, and everyone else turned to look at him. "I think we should talk about rescuing the Victors."

Coin kept her face impassive. "Soldier Abernathy, I have spoken on this matter quite diligently before. This is not the right time. I thought I had made that clear."

Haymitch sighed. There was no _point_ with this woman.

"Is there anyone else?" The room stayed silent. "Then the meeting is adjourned."

Haymitch could feel Effie's fierce glare at the back of his head as he gathered his things and started to leave, but he ignored her. What else could he do but suggest it again? Coin was stubborn, and had made it quite clear that she didn't think any of her soldiers were ready for such a mission. Katniss would have to have a nervous breakdown before Coin got it.

"When I stated that you needed to do whatever you could, I didn't think that meant you'd give up so quickly," hissed Effie in his ear. "I am quite disappointed."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Sounds like we're back in the Games, Princess."

"We _are_ , Haymitch. Our Victor is still in the Arena, and I am quite worried. I _miss_ Peeta, and Finnick, even Johanna and we know how insufferable she can be."

"I'm doin' everything I can, okay?"

"Nice jacket, Soldier Abernathy." Haymitch stopped and glanced at Coin. He'd heard her, he _knew_ he had, but he couldn't have heard her correctly, had he? Did she just _compliment_ him?

"Yes, I am sure his jacket looks much better than every other grey jacket the soldiers wear here," Effie stated, her voice only slightly annoyed. Haymitch doubted anyone else could hear the possessiveness in her voice, but Haymitch had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

A few people who'd overheard laughed, including Plutarch. One glare from Coin had them all shutting up, but Effie was gently pushing him along.

She was annoyed and he was amused for the rest of the day.

* * *

The second time was only a few days later, during breakfast.

Coin hardly ever ate with any of them. Normally she grabbed her breakfast and was immediately heading towards her office. She was always holed up with Boggs or somebody or another in Command.

Haymitch was up earlier than usual. Effie had… surprised him by sneaking into his bed during the middle of the night, and he'd woken up to soft kisses and low moans and suddenly he had enough energy to start the day at sunrise.

He'd left her in his bed, a kiss to the temple, and he'd felt so damned good he'd even shaved since the shakes weren't so bad.

"Nice trim, Haymitch," Coin had said, a small smile on her face, and then she was off, leaving to her office. Haymitch blinked at her for several moments before turning around to find Plutarch gazing at him, amused.

"I wonder what Ms. Trinket would have said to that if she had been here." Plutarch's eyes were twinkling with mirth and Haymitch scowled at the former Gamekeeper.

"Shut up," scowled Haymitch.

"Oh, don't be like that, Haymitch. It's obvious Coin's into you. Why don't you take her up on her offer?"

 _Because Effie would kill me_ , Haymitch thought, but he couldn't say that, so instead he said, "I'm not the least bit interested. At all." And he wasn't. Not in the least.

"Ah. Not your type?"

"Not even a little bit."

Plutarch nodded. "I assume your type is blonde haired, blue eyed, small in stature, though curvy in all the right places, with a rack to die for and the most fashion-forward individual this country has seen in years?"

Haymitch refused to look at Plutarch, but he could feel his temper spiraling out of control. He knew Plutarch was only teasing him. He and Effie were the talk of the whole District, what was going on, what wasn't going on, when it was going on, where, at what time, and in whose room? He'd been caught leaving her room, she'd been caught sneaking into his room, and on the off chance that he pinned her against the wall in her own room the lady in room fourteen had taken to pounding on the wall to get them to _please shut up_.

Haymitch refused to acknowledge Plutarch's statement, so he gritted his teeth and gripped his cup of tea to keep from losing his _shit_ at the fact that Plutarch's Heavensbee had described Effie way too perfectly for his liking.

"Listen, Haymitch, all jokes aside," said Plutarch, leaning forward. "You should capitalize on Coin feeling you. She's into you, and that could work in our favor."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "What are you on about?"

"I'm _saying_ since she _likes_ you, use that to our advantage to get her to rescue the Victors sooner."

Haymitch stared at Plutarch. "Do I _fucking_ look like a prostitute?" snarled Haymitch. "Have you _fucking_ lost your mind? I'm not about to play your sick Capitol games, Plutarch."

"Relax. I'm not saying you actually have to sleep with her. But you should woo her, or charm her or something. I'm not asking you to do anything that'll make Ms. Trinket upset. What I'm saying is Peeta, Anneie, and Johanna… well they're worth a little bit of flirting to get what you want."

* * *

In his defense, it was entirely too easy. She was acting a bit desperate in Haymitch's opinion. It's why the only Capitol he'd ever taken to bed was Trinket. Everyone else had thrown themselves at him, because he was _Haymitch Abernathy_ and it didn't matter that he was currently a drunk, he was a former _Victor_ , so every time he was in a bar with Chaff the women flocked to them, particularly him because he was edgy and didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of him.

They all wanted to be the one to tame the barbaric District Victor.

Effie, on the other hand, had denied his advances up until they'd gotten to Thirteen. Before they'd both had their share of slip-ups, and kissing was all too regular by the time the Quell had come along, but if she was anything she was stubborn, and she hardly ever rose to the bait. If anything if it weren't for the current war he was more than convinced that Effie would still be playing hard to get.

Coin didn't seem to be playing hard to get at all.

He'd started giving her soft smiles, lingering around after meetings longer, paying her compliments. It was like swallowing nails, and he could feel the amused glances and stares as the two of them publically continued to flirt. He laughed at all her jokes, she laughed at his, and it was all so incredibly _annoying_.

He missed Effie, and the way they always argued about _everything_ and Effie normally had to be drunk to find him funny.

And speaking of funny _she_ didn't seem particularly entertained by any of this. When Haymitch complimented Coin's hair during a meeting Effie had broken her pencil in half.

He pretended not to notice.

He probably should have let her in on the plan, but it was quite fun, seeing her all hot and bothered. He knew how possessive Jealous Effie was, and he thought it might be fun to bring that out. The sex with them was far from dying down, if anything they were making up for lost time, and he found himself just as hard for her now as he did during their first time.

Still, there was nothing wrong with spicing things up.

It all went to shit after a couple of weeks of Haymitch trying. It was obvious that he'd have to do a lot more than compliment her if he wanted the Victors rescued, and he wasn't about to sleep with Coin. He had no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't even be able to get it up. He was ready to quit but Plutarch urged him to keep up his antics, so he'd decided to give it another week.

When Effie walked inside the cafeteria to see him and Coin sitting together, she sent him a look that sent the fear of God in him.

They hadn't had a lot of time to communicate the past few weeks. Most of his free time had been to help Coin as much as he could. He'd never considered himself a suck-up until now, and he was none too pleased.

He imagined Effie was quite hurt to walk in to see him and Coin laughing—even if his laugh was forced. But Coin's hand had been on his chest, and it'd caught Haymitch off guard, he hadn't been expecting it. Coin's hands tended to _wander_ , and it did _nothing_ for him, and there were quite a few times he'd gotten forceful with her, though he refrained from warning her that if she ever touched him again he'd slice off her wrists.

Haymitch thought that Effie might cut off something of his that they both valued very much, so he figured the game was over and he'd better go and talk to her. Without so much as an explanation to Coin, Haymitch got up and made his way out of the cafeteria. Effie had always been a fast walker and he had to sprint to catch up with her.

"Go away, Haymitch," she stated coldly.

"Effie—"

"I _said_ leave me alone."

"You said to go away, not to leave you alone." She hardly spared a glance at his joke and he grimaced. "Listen, Princess—"

"You may call me _Effie_."

That had him stopping in his tracks and scowling. It'd been _years_ since she'd taken that tone and used that line on him. He grabbed her, a little more roughly than he had intended – he forgot how small and petite she was sometimes – and dragged her into the nearest broom cupboard, immediately pinning her against the wall.

"I'll _call_ you what I damn well please," he told her, and then his lips were on her neck.

"Do _not_ think you get to _cheat_ on me and then _sleep_ with me."

"I'm not _cheating_ on you," he snarled angrily, offended. "We're not together." She stiffened harshly against him and attempted to push him away. He pushed her back. "I didn't mean it like that," mumbled Haymitch, attempting to slide his hands under her shirt.

"Then how did you mean it?"

"I mean that _if_ I were doing anything with Alma—"

"Oh, is it _Alma_ now?" And Effie was nearly growling.

Haymitch felt like he was digging himself a hole so he stopped kissing her and looked at her. "I'm not cheating on you. I never touched that woman. I didn't even _look_ at her. The only reason I ever said anything about her hair is because you always complain about how lack-luster it is. I complimented her suit because you talk about how badly it's cut. I haven't noticed another woman in years besides you, okay? I haven't so much as _looked_ at another woman for _at least_ ten years."

Effie poked out her lip. "What about that time with Johanna on the elevator?"

Haymitch snorted. "Trust me, Johanna's no woman." Haymitch placed his hands on Effie's hips and pushed up against her. "I'm not _cheating_ on you."

"I am sorry, did I offend _you_?"

"I was only trying—"

"I _know_ what you were _trying_ to do. When I stated we needed our Victors back 'By any means necessary,' _this_ is not quite what I had in mind," Effie said moodily. He relaxed against, unaware that he'd even been tense.

"Then why are you giving me _shit_ , Princess?"

"Because she had your _claws_ all over you, and I do not care if you _hated_ it and would have probably twisted her wrist until it broke, it does not _matter_." She somehow pulled him closer so that nearly every part of them was touching. "You are _mine_."

He captured her lips with his, none too delicately, and felt her body respond. He had her legs around him and his pants down in seconds, and then he was inside of her, panting and thrusting and moaning and biting.

"Tell me you are mine, Haymitch," she whimpered. "Please, please, please, _please_."

He sped up, digging his fingers into her hips. "I've _been_ yours, Princess. Always."

She arched her back and came, _loudly_ , so he figured all of Thirteen could hear her, but he was okay with that, because he was hers, and she was his.

She pushed him away, her breathing still hard. "You, Sir, are awfully difficult to stay mad at."

He smirked, pulling up his pants. "Do you still wanna be mad at me?"

" _Yes_. You knew weeks ago _Alma_ was not going to change her mind about rescuing the Victors, and you kept up your façade and tried to make me jealous."

"Caught on, have you?" She glared at him. "I love it when you're possessive."

"You take things too far, Haymitch." She attempted to straighten her scarf. "I tried to grit my teeth and play along, but you push me."

"I'm a Victor, Princess. We don't play fair."

Effie huffed. "Well I hope you think it's _fair_ that you'll be _playing_ with _yourself_ for the next few weeks. I hope you enjoyed what we just did, Haymitch, it's all you're getting for awhile."

"Don't be ridiculous, Effie." Haymitch followed her out of the closet. "Effie, it's not that serious." She ignored him. "Effie. _Effie_." She turned and gave him a little wave, and then disappeared down the hall.

He bristled for a few minutes, wondering who he should hate more, Plutarch or Coin. Then he realized that he was Haymitch Abernathy, the only one Effie could never turn down, and he had learned a trick or two on how to get her to beg.

He grinned all the way back to the mess hall. He hoped Effie was ready, because he _never_ played fair.


	254. Of Graduations, Memories, and Home

**OF GRADUATIONS, MEMORIES, AND HOME**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, and Peeta were left behind the minute the car came to a stop. Ash, Ava, Ember, Willow, and Rye ran up ahead, Ash reaching the front porch first and embracing the young man they were all here for.

Finn O'Dair.

It was _terrifying_ how much he looked like his father, especially now, at eighteen years old: shocking bronze hair, startling sea-green eyes, and all the charm his father had and then some.

And he was graduating from high school this weekend, everyone was coming down, including Finn's long-time girlfriend, Mellie.

Haymitch would have felt old as hell if Ash hadn't graduated the year before.

Haymitch couldn't help but grin as Ash and Finn continued to embrace, the two of them pretty much ignoring everyone else. The friendship had turned into a bromance, and then had turned into a brotherhood with the most unbreakable bond.

Ash's first cell phone wasn't so he could talk to girls, but so he would stop running up their phone bill with his long distance calls to Finn.

Annie made her way out onto the porch, a smile on her face. She waved at Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss, and hugged all the kids.

"I'm so glad you guys are here," Annie smiled when they'd all finally gotten into the house. "Jo will be here tomorrow."

"Guess the whole gang'll be here then," said Peeta.

Well, for the most part, thought Haymitch, but he pushed that thought aside, not wanting to dwell on all those they had lost.

Finnick was here in spirit, and in the physical form of his son.

Haymitch and Peeta took the bags upstairs, both of them having been here enough times over the past eighteen years to know where their rooms were.

They would only be here for the weekend, Finn would be graduating tomorrow, on a Friday, and then Saturday would be the graduation party of the century, Effie Abernathy had turned back into Effie _Trinket_ , she had practically driven him to drink again with all her planning, he hadn't remembered her being this over the top with Ash's graduation, but she had promised him the most thrilling treat to make up for her craziness.

He couldn't wait to take her up on that offer.

The weekend was a blur, Haymitch realized that he actually _was_ getting old, he found himself wanting to sleep more than party, but he had a good time nonetheless. He swallowed down the lump in his own throat at seeing Finn walk across that stage, his diploma in hand, looking so much like his father that it was almost physically painful.

At his private dinner affair – and it _was_ private, Finn O'Dair was the son of two Victors, his father having died in the Second Rebellion, his graduation was broadcasted live, like Ash's would have been had Haymitch not put his foot down, he refused to let the cameras in the District, and Paylor had agreed after a few weeks – they had managed to get the reporters away for dinner, and Finn had stood up, thanking everyone for coming, and then he spoke to all of them individually.

Hearing Finn thank him for being the closest thing to a father he'd ever known floored him.

Haymitch found himself wondering how time had gone so fast – not just for the weekend, but overall – Finnick's _son_ had just _graduated_ from _high school_. It'd been nearly twenty years since the Second Rebellion, which ultimately meant nearly twenty years of Finnick being dead.

It was a bittersweet moment for Haymitch, and he could only assume for Effie, Annie, and Johanna – and most likely Finn as well.

When it was all said and done, and they were all saying their goodbyes, Haymitch ran upstairs to get the bags to put them in the car and found himself more emotional than he cared to admit.

Haymitch sat their bags back down on the bed, looking around. Annie had redecorated over the years, and several years ago she had called Effie up, asking what designs she had wanted for the room, because somewhere along the way it had become Effie and Haymitch's room. Annie had asked the same question to Peeta for his and Katniss' room.

Haymitch looked around, feeling a sense of fondness that he attributed to his old age. He hoped that he and Effie, and Katniss and Peeta, would still come around, even though Finn would officially be out of the house now.

Finnick's son was eighteen years old, had graduated from high school, and would be heading to the Capitol to study at Panem University. It was on the opposite side of town as the University of Panem, where Ash was a student, but it was still a great school nonetheless.

They were known for their psychology program, which is what Finn wanted to study. Haymitch thought it was the perfect profession for him.

Haymitch looked around, thinking of all the memories they had had here. Haymitch and Effie had been out here at the very least a couple of times every year. Ash had spent his teenage summer months here, because Ash and Finn were inseparable, they acted like Christmas and three-day weekends were not enough time to spend with each other.

Haymitch walked towards the desk close to the bathroom door. It was newer, only a few years old, and he and Effie had broken this one in just like they'd broken in the other ones. Come to think of it, they damn near had broken in every inch of this room. The bed had _certainly_ seen its fair share of extracurricular physical activity, as had the love seat near the window.

Not to mention the nightstand and the floor had seen its fair share of moments as well.

The room was the second most comfortable place he slept in, aside from his house. This place was familiar, and just as much home as Twelve. They had watched their kids grow up here, many holidays spent here, many swimming lessons taught here….

How many memories did this place hold? Ash had broken his arm jumping down the stairs here – and _that_ was a phone call he hadn't been prepared for, he'd been _frantic_ , even more than Effie. They returned the favor two years later when Finn broke his arm in Twelve.

Ash had his first summer fling here in Four, and they had to find out from _Annie_ that he'd been meeting up with a girl who lived down the street from Annie and Finn.

Haymitch walked to the window, overlooking the beach. This was a view that would never get old; it was why he and Effie never stayed at a hotel when they came to visit. What was the point when they had the view of a lifetime right here?

They'd renewed their vows in Annie's backyard nearly eight years ago. This place was familiar, and he didn't want to let it go.

Haymitch was still standing there, lost in thought, when a familiar pair of arms made their way around his waist. Effie buried her face in his back, breathing deeply.

"What are you doing?" she asked him quietly.

"Thinkin'," he responded, locking his hands with hers.

"About?"

Haymitch didn't immediately respond, because he wasn't quite sure yet. He decided to just speak. "Do you think we'll come back here? Now that Finn's graduated?"

"What?" Effie frowned, stepping up next to him. "Of course we will. We have known Annie longer than we have known Finn, she is family just as much as Finnick was. We used Finn as an excuse to visit, but honestly, we wanted to visit Annie as much as Ash wanted to visit Finn."

Haymitch felt himself start to relax. "Everything's changing again."

"Well, that happens," said Effie softly. "But Finn has been the same since he was a child. For as long as I can remember, Finn wanted to attend Panem University, become a psychologist, and move back to Four. This is home for him, and for us too. We will be back. _Finn_ will be back. Not to mention Ava is set on being a marine biologist, she will probably end up living here. It is another excuse to visit."

Haymitch looked down at her. _She_ had changed over the years in looks, but she was still the same woman who had kicked down the walls of his heart and made him fall in love with her. Her blonde hair was now ash blonde, there were wrinkles around her bright blue eyes, she was still a force to be reckoned with in all her short glory, and the best thing to ever happen to him.

Things were changing, a boy who had been like a son to them had just graduated, but one thing that that would remain true was that this place was home, just as much as Twelve was.

And these people were family.

And where there's family, there's always home.

* * *

A/N: Hands down, in my top 5. I'm pretty much obsessed with Finnick/Finn right now, don't ask me why.

Also, Mellie is a character I made up from my Everlark story "Rise From the Ashes." You will see her again, soon :)


	255. If These Walls Could Talk

A/N: So I just realized I started this story about two years ago. I started it Sept 3 2015, as it is Sept 6, 2017 now, it's been two years. That's crazy to me. I'm pretty sure I was absent for about a year LOL. Anyway, this one shot is the last one shot I have to post that was written before this year. Everything else has been written within the past two months or so, ever since my Hayffie fever came back. I have four more "old" prompts that were requested that I wrote. After that the prompts were old, but I never wrote them, until recently. I feel like we're embarking on a new adventure here. It's like a "part two" almost.

Anyway, I could certainly use some more prompts. Maybe some Halloween ones as that is coming up. Also some during the Games. Right now I'm writing a lot of post-war fics.

Can't wait to see what yall come up with.

OH! Side note, IDT FF is always saying when I updated. I DID post yesterday, (Tues) but it was still showing as updated on Monday. Not sure if yall got the email notification, but I DID post yesterday. It was one of my favorites! This one? Not so much lol.

 _Once again, very close to drabble._

 **IF WALLS COULD TALK**

 **Rated T**

"You look exhausted," Cinna commented to Effie. "You're tense."

She sighed and sat back in her chair, closing her eyes, thinking of today's events in Eleven. "We all are." At that statement Cinna stood up and started massaging her shoulders. She let out a soft moan that had Haymitch staring at her over the rim of his glass.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Haymitch muttered to Portia so only she could hear.

She turned to him, her eyebrows raised. "What, Cinna and Effie?" She stared at the two of them and took a sip of her own drink, some purple liquid with gold glitter swirling. "Not in the least. We're friends, and we're her stylist." She turned back to him. "Why, does it bother you?"

He knew what she was insinuating, but he ignored her, and didn't dignify her question with an answer. He just continued watching the way Cinna touched Effie. He took another sip of liquor.

Effie took another deep breath and her eyes fluttered. She met Cinna's warm brown eyes after a few seconds and gave him a genuine smile.

"You are certainly the most perfect individual in all of Panem," Effie told him.

Cinna laughed and grabbed her hand, kissing it. "And you shine with moon's quiet beauty."

"Charming, Cinna." Effie's voice was laced with amusement.

"You sounded _just_ like your mother when you said that," said Portia.

Haymitch tensed. "Her _mother_?" He snorted into his drink. "The thought of another Effie Trinket." He frowned and shivered.

"Effie is nothing like her mother." Haymitch stared at the coolness in Cinna's voice, his eyebrow raised. "The woman is cruel, and a pain in the ass."

"How do you know?"

"We met her this summer," Portia answered.

"The three of you are what, best friends?"

"Well some of us actually prefer people's company," Effie told Haymitch.

"We are pretty close, though," said Cinna. "We had to take her under our wing once we realized who her mother was." Cinna shook his head and started rubbing Effie's shoulders again. "Though she did give us great Intel to why Effie is the way she is." He smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"I'll never forgive myself for inviting you two over," Effie said with a shake of her head.

"So why did you?" asked Haymitch.

She sighed. "Mother wanted to meet Cinna, which is _ridiculous_ because she's _never_ taken an interest in anything that had to do with Twelve. Not even when I became Escort. When I told her and Father she said, 'Oh, dearest, how _tragic_.' Father was happy for me, though." Effie shrugged, but Haymitch could tell she was still slightly hurt. "Anyway, suddenly Katniss and Peeta win and she's _so_ excited, and when she called me to congratulate me she hinted that it would be absolutely _fabulous_ to meet Cinna."

Effie rolled her eyes and stood up, heading towards the bar. Cinna followed her with his eyes.

"It was a horrible lunch," Portia said. "Cleara Trinket is a horrid woman. But she certainly entertained us at the end."

At those words Effie turned around, her drink pink and swirling with silver. Her eyes were wide. "Portia, don't you dare."

Portia's eyes twinkled mischievously as she took a sip. "Why not? It's an amusing story. It might lighten the mood some."

"Absolutely not. He will never let me live it down."

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "What? What am I missing?"

"Nothing. You're not missing anything." Effie said it much too quickly.

"Is that why you and Seneca broke up?" teased Cinna.

" _Seneca_?" Haymitch eyed Effie. "Wait… _what_?"

"Of course not," Effie said, ignoring Haymitch.

"I bet I know why you two broke up." Portia grinned at her. "He never compared, did he?" Cinna and Portia burst into a fit of laughter.

"That is even _more_ ridiculous than the first assumption," blushed Effie.

"Wait. I'm still stuck on you and Seneca. Seneca _Crane_?"

" _Yes_ , Haymitch, Seneca and I were together." The impatience in her voice had Haymitch arching an eyebrow.

"For how long?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm asking, ain't I?"

Effie took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about Seneca."

"Then don't," Cinna said. "I told you we needed something to lighten the mood. Go ahead and tell Haymitch how Seneca never compared to him." That had Cinna and Portia laughing again while Effie stared at them, mortified. Haymitch stilled.

"You two _promised_ you would never mention that," breathed Effie.

"We did not," Portia smiled.

"Well I thought it was _implied_."

"Thought wrong."

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" barked Haymitch.

"When we went to Effie's house, her mother gave us a grand tour," explained Cinna, his eyes glittering. "She was showing off, the stupid cow. Anyway, she saved Effie's room for last, and guess who we saw taped to _every_ inch of her wall?"

Effie huffed. "If you're going to tell the story, at least tell it correctly." It took all of her strength to look Haymitch in his eyes. "You have to understand. I left home the day of my eighteenth birthday, and my parents just never changed my room. I do not know why. They _hated_ you. But they kept it all."

"Kept what?" asked Haymitch.

" _Everything_ ," Portia giggled. "Oh you should have seen it, Haymitch. You were _everywhere_."

" _Not_ everywhere," corrected Effie.

Cinna rolled his eyes. "You were taped to every inch of her wall. Thousands of pictures." Haymitch gaped.

"This is _so_ embarrassing." Effie was bright red, even through her makeup.

"So do you dream of him when you go over there and visit and sleep in your old room?" teased Portia. Haymitch smirked, arching an eyebrow at Effie. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I do _not_ sleep over my parents' house. You have met my mother. I can barely stay in her presence more than a few hours."

"Don't try to change the subject," Cinna grinned. "Is that why you and Seneca didn't work out? Did he see your room one day?"

Effie sighed and put down her glass. "I did not love Seneca, and Seneca did not love me," Effie sad, her voice clipped. "You do not _love_ people in the Capitol. You do not marry for love. You marry for convenience. You marry for money. My mother was so _happy_ the day my father chose her. He is one of the richest men in the Capitol, as are the women he… dabbles with, as my mother likes to call it." They all fell silent as she talked. "And my mother sits idle, because she is the prettiest of them all, the perfect trophy on my father's arm. But Effie Trinket is no man's trophy. I refused to live the life my mother lived. And I would much rather be Haymitch's Escort than Seneca's _prize_. So yes, in a way, I guess I did choose Haymitch over Seneca. But it had _nothing_ to do with some stupid schoolgirl crush on a Victor who hardly knows my name after twenty years of working together."

They all stared at her once she finished her outburst.

She took a deep breath. "I apologize. That was incredibly rude. I think I am more tired than I thought. I am quite cranky."

"We were only joking with you, Effie," said Cinna, stepping forward.

"I know." Effie took another drink, finishing it off, and then bid them goodnight, making sure she didn't look at Haymitch.

A few hours later Haymitch snuck into Effie's bed and crawled in next to her.

"You were sleepin' with Seneca while you were sleepin' with me?" he asked without preamble.

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously Haymitch? Of course not. _We_ only started this last year. Seneca and I were together _years_ ago. Years and years ago."

Haymitch felt his heart start to flutter normally again. "Why'd you tell them I don't know your name? It slips off my tongue easily enough when I'm inside you."

Effie blushed. "You _didn't_ know my name until last year. I was always Princess." He didn't say anything but wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him.

"So posters, huh?"

"Shut up, Haymitch." She said it with a slight smile in her voice. "God, if those walls could talk…."

Haymitch kissed her neck. " _These_ walls would say a few things too."

"Yes they would," hummed Effie as she unbuttoned his shirt.


	256. These Three Words

_I've been debating on whether or not Haymitch would ever be able to tell Effie that he loved her. Even in the Ash universe and all that, I want to try and stay as true to the character as possible, while also showing character development. Do I think book Haymitch would ever say those three magic words? I can't say I believe he would have. With that said, there are plenty of fan fics I read where he does say it. I always sort of cringe. So then I decided that I wanted to write a fic where Haymitch says it, but I knew it couldn't be fluff…. That just seems too out of a character. So this is another one of my takes on if/when Haymitch says it. Title taken from a song that is sung by the GENIUS that is Stevie Wonder of the same name. Story has nothing to do with that song, FYI._

 **THESE THREE WORDS**

 **Rated M for smut**

Haymitch startled awake, a scream stuck in his throat. He took a few shaky breaths, telling himself to get a grip. He turned to his side to see Effie still sound asleep. He was surprised she hadn't woken up. She normally always did while he was having a nightmare. She was so in tune with him that she knew where to touch, what to say, and when to say it in order to calm him down.

Not this time, though, apparently.

He took another breath, his hands shaking as he rubbed his hands over his face. He silently slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom, splashing ice-cold water on his face to keep himself from screaming.

The nightmare was too fresh in his mind.

He wanted a bottle.

Instead he slipped back into bed and wrapped himself around Effie, holding her a little tighter than necessary.

Probably a lot tighter than necessary.

She shifted a little, moaning softly, and he buried his face in her neck. She must have took that as her cue, because she turned her body so that she was facing him. His hands remained attached to her hips.

"Nightmare?" she whispered.

He didn't answer. His lips just sought out hers, and she responded in kind. She allowed his hands to travel up her body, brushing some of her most sensitive parts, and her body immediately reacted. He cupped her cheeks, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and then he was on top of her.

He didn't waste time, but he took his time. Effie let him lead, because she knew he needed to. Other times they fought for domination, fought for control, but on nights like this, she understood what he needed to calm him down.

"I love you, Effie," he said, sliding into her in a practiced move. He buried his face in her neck and she tightened her legs around his waist.

"I love you too, Haymitch," groaned out Effie.

He rarely said it. Maybe once or twice a year, on random nights like this, after having a particularly bad nightmare. He hardly ever dreamt about her. His nightmares were usually him reliving his Games, and occasionally he'd dream of his family.

The dreams of her, though, in that cell, being tortured, being hurt, undid him.

He was always gentle after those. Normally he was rough, brutal even, and she preferred him that way. Sex, they'd learned, was a great way to erase the nightmares. It brought on a pleasure that no pills or no alcohol could satisfy, and the biting, scratching, cursing, screaming that went along with it always brought about the greatest orgasms.

But if he had a dream about her, he couldn't bare the thought of hurting her, and sometimes, on a typical night, they could get pretty wild with each other. So he tended to slow things down, and he'd hold her so tightly that she could barely move back against him.

The first orgasm slid out of her kindly, sweetly, and Effie left out a soft sigh.

He sped up, just a little, and it was enough to get that bubble growing again. She wrapped herself tighter around him, and the kisses he was planting against her neck—which were sure to leave marks—certainly weren't helping. The pleasure was always overwhelming and she let out a loud moan. Her back arched and he let out a groan of his own.

He buried himself deeper into her, gripping her a little tighter, and she knew he was close. She dug her nails into his back, feeling the muscle. She'd remembered the lines and planes of his back. His back was perfection, muscular, and she found it easy to lock her fingers into his flesh as she came, and he followed closely behind, his arms finding hers and pulling it toward him so he could grasp her hand with his.

The kisses didn't immediately stop, even as their orgasms died down. He kissed her face, then made his way back to her neck.

He moved off of her but kept her close.

She loved him possessive.

"I am okay," she told him gently.

"I know. Sometimes my fucking subconscious doesn't get it, though."

She snuggled even more into him and he held her a little tighter. "Go back to sleep."

She said the words but she knew he wouldn't. He never did. He'd hold her and watch her sleep, probably play in her hair, and he wouldn't move until she awakened. He'd probably count how many times her heart beat over the course of the night.

Because he couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to her.

And though he couldn't always say it, he no longer had as much trouble proving those three little words to her.

* * *

A/N: I have a soulmate AU that was prompted a long time ago that I'm DYING to post. It is my fav one shot of ALL time, actually, so I'm wondering: I do not usually post on Fridays, but would u guys want me to post it tomorrow? I can post it Mon if yall like. But I LOVE that story and I've been waiting to post it for forever lol. Let me know what yall want.

And thanks for the Halloween prompts!


	257. The Mark of Your Soul

A/N: This one is super long, I apologize, when I wrote this I felt that this one needed to be detailed. With that said, I'm thinking about doing a multi-chap fic to this Verse. Read it and let me know if you'd like one. I feel like there's so much I could do with this. Yall tell ME :)

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" _I'm a little bit obsessed over matching soul mark AU's at the moment and I was wondering if that would appeal to you? Haymitch has never seen Effie's mark but considering all the make up she wears its not surprising. When he sees it can be either after she is rescued from the mansion in the hospital or on accident in 13 and he wonders how long she knew and hid it from him. She's seen his many times over the years but never said a word. Okay, that might be too long for a one shot or you may hate those types of stories but I'd love to see it if you have an interest?" –Lady Blackwolf._

 _I've read a few soulmate AU but I've never gotten a prompt before. If anyone thinks of anymore LET ME KNOW!_

 _Also, disclaimer: this is long._

 **THE MARK OF YOUR SOUL**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch hated the mark on his arm. It was a pain in the ass, despite the fact that everyone had one: the _soulmate_ mark, or the soulmark. He didn't mind the soulmate thing so much: everyone had one, that didn't mean you would necessarily _find_ that said someone, particularly when no one could travel outside their District. There was no rule that stated your soulmate would live in your District. Haymitch's issue was with the placement of his mark: it was on his wrist, in plain view for everyone to see: five shaded in square boxes in the shape of cross.

His girl wasn't his soulmate and he was okay with that. He wasn't sure if _she_ was okay with that, but it was what it was. She'd either get over it or she wouldn't, but they got along well enough, and she was something to do, so they tolerated each other.

He didn't think it was love – he was sure it wasn't, and despite the fact that he believed in soulmates didn't necessarily mean he believed in love _per say_ , not when people married out of necessity in the Seam – but when he stumbles to her house to tell her his mother and brother are dead only to find that she's dead too, there was a gaping hole that he expects won't ever be filled.

Even the drinking he turns to can't fill it, as hard as he tries.

He decided that he didn't believe in _anything_ anymore, but the problem was that other people kept believing in them. He lost track of how many Capitol women he had disappointed over the years when they realized their symbols didn't match. He was cruel and tended to laugh at them, because even if they _did_ match he wouldn't have cared.

As time passed, though, the Capitols got annoying, so he started hiding his mark during the Games. He tended to wear long-sleeved shirts and kept his jacket on, and if he so happened to rumble and tumble with a bimbo he kept his shirt on.

It wasn't hard. He tended to lift their skirts, pump until he came, and then left them before they could whisper out his name.

All that changed when he met Effie Trinket.

Haymitch prided himself on how easily he could get rid of his Escorts. He hated them all because they were stupid, he just had to say a few cruel things, call them out of their names, and they'd send him a new one the following year.

Effie couldn't be deterred. No matter what he said, what names he called her, how much he never minded his manners, she came back, year after year. On top of that she gave it as good as he did, and they could argue like nobody's business. She _easily_ matched him wit for wit, so much so that he suspected she'd gathered all his former Escorts and met with them to see the things that he had said to them. It seemed like she remembered their answers so that she'd always have a response, so that eventually he had to come up with new material.

It _still_ never worked, and he hadn't felt this alive in _years_ ; he'd forgotten what it was like to go head to head with someone and to have his blood pumping and his brain working.

He found himself impressed, even if she did annoy the _shit_ out of him, and she came back every single year, and every single year he found himself more and more captivated.

Yet he couldn't stop himself from giving her a thorough dressing down during the 59th Hunger Games. She'd been his Escort for four years and for some reason she took _this_ particular Game rather hard. Their Tributes had actually made it passed Cornucopia for once but they hadn't lasted much longer than that.

Haymitch suspected she had made the mistake of hoping, so when that knife slit their first Tribute's throat the gasp that Effie let out had been loud enough to echo a few times. Haymitch didn't even move, not even when their second Tribute was able to fight off District Seven, only to get a knife lodged into the back of his head by District Two.

"Always know who's around you," Haymitch had stated, and he brought his drink to his lips.

In hindsight it hadn't been the most sensitive thing he'd ever said, but he'd certainly said worse before. Effie didn't seem to care, though. She'd turned around, her blue eyes flashing, and they had one of their worst arguments to date.

It was bad, it got violent, because she pushed his buttons, but he'd never been one to hit women. It'd be tempting, because he felt like he was under attack – her words were colder and crueler than they'd ever been towards him and it shocked him some, the words she was spitting at him, so he got defensive, and he might have thrown a glass at her head, but she responded by throwing a bottle at his.

He'd marched up to her but she didn't back away, instead she met him halfway, and her hands slapped him before he even knew what was happening. He grabbed her and pinned her to the wall, and he thought about how _easy_ it'd be to snap her fucking neck, only he vowed that the monster that lived inside of him had stayed in that Arena.

So he hit her with his words, and verbally sliced open her heart, explaining exactly what her Citizenship entitled: she had blood on her hands, would always have blood on her hands, and that would never change; that her _President_ certainly has blood on his hands, including three innocent victims back in Twelve who'd never had the chance to even defend themselves. He ended by explaining the way things were in his District – how some women had to _sell_ themselves just to feed their families, how a loaf of bread could be the difference between life and death, and how most people worked like _slaves_ just to survive.

"And me? I can't even do _shit_ for them because the government controls my Winnings, so I get to sit back and watch the rest of my District starve. Most of these kids don't even stand a _chance_ at the Reaping, and some parents only ask me to make sure that their children experience a good fucking _meal_ while they're out here."

He let her go but she stayed in the exact same spot she was in, her eyes filled with devastated tears. She seemed frozen and it occurred to him that maybe he'd been _too_ honest, _too_ harsh, and he felt a little sorry about it, so he disappeared into his own room until her sobs filled his ears, and there was some force, some pull she had on him that had him standing outside her door for _hours_ debating whether or not he should apologize.

In the end he left at sunrise, when, exhausted, she'd finally been forced to sleep.

He thought she might actually quit after that, and he felt some type of way about that as he sat on his train ride back to Twelve. He realized he might actually miss her when no one knocked on his door the day of the Reaping the following year. He thought he'd be relieved but he wasn't, he felt empty, and that surprised him.

He stumbled his way to the stage and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her there. She ignored his entire existence, and he found that both petty and annoying.

The train ride was just as silent, save for one troubling sentence she told him when she stepped into his bedroom later on that night. Still barely looking at him – _rude_ – she glanced at her notes and cleared her throat. "It's the ten-year anniversary of your Games, so be prepared to have to deal with the media frenzy. I know you do not want to deal with it, but I am afraid we do not have much a choice." She finally glanced at him for the first time, her _stupid_ Capitol smile plastered on her face, and it nearly made him snarl until he locked eyes with her.

There was a sadness in them that hadn't been there before, and he wondered if he had done that to her.

"Yah, okay," sighed Haymitch.

"Tomorrow there will be a designer here to get you fitted. The clothes you have been wearing are outdated and out of style."

"I'm not—"

"We are not arguing about this. I don't care if you are drunk, I don't care if whine and grumble the entire time, you _will_ be there tomorrow morning _on time_ for your appointment."

She was gone then, and he was alone.

She kept up the silent treatment towards him, focusing her attention on their Tributes. It didn't take long for him to realize that she had taken on the responsibility of helping them. She must have decided that he was a hopeless case and that she was the only chance for these kids.

A lot of her advice was actually pretty good, not that it'd make much of a difference. He applauded her effort but kept silent; he had nothing to say because it wouldn't change anything.

On the third night he corrected some of her advice without thinking, and it was the first time in the five years that they had worked together that he had actually made a conscious decision to help. She stared at him, both surprise and annoyance in her eyes, but she corrected herself and then sent the children off to bed.

She immediately made her way to the bar, and pulling a page out of his book, poured a large glass and started drinking. He stared at her for several moments. He'd never really seen her drink. She had her fair share of wine with meals or fruity cocktail drinks at a Capitol party but he'd never seen her drink the hard stuff and he'd never seen her drink this much.

She finished her drink and frowned, and he could see it: the sadness, the hurt, the disappointment. She took a deep breath and turned to him. "I need you to get the kids to the Training Center tomorrow. I have to be somewhere." She left it at that, she didn't elaborate and he didn't ask.

After getting the Tributes to the Training Center he made his way to Chaff's apartment. Effie hadn't left anything for him to do so he thought he should get piss face drunk with his best mate. Chaff's Escort could suck it and deal with it for a day.

He was on his third bottle when Seeder entered the room.

"Your Escort is a God-send," the dark-skinned woman said.

"Wha?" slurred Haymitch.

Seeder grabbed the remote and turned on the television. For the first time in four days his Games weren't airing. Instead he saw Effie on his screen, and she certainly looked camera ready. The crowd was large and it looked as if there were millions of people hurling questions at her.

"I think I have been quite clear on this," she stated, her voice sharp. "Mr. Abernathy will, once again, _not_ be attending _any_ events or interviews in regards to his Games. He is busy taking care of our Tributes so that one day Twelve might have _another_ Victor. I hereby refuse to answer anymore questions regarding Mr. Abernathy's whereabouts and what it is any of you have to do to get an exclusive. He does not have the time, I have seen to that, and he will not make time. If you would like to know about Mr. Abernathy's Games, I suggest you find the nearest television and watch the Second Quarter Quell like the rest of Panem. That is all."

Chaff snorted. "She's _hot_ ," he stated, and Haymitch couldn't necessarily disagree. He'd never seen her look so good, at least for a Capitol, and the way that dress was hugging every curve…. When had his Escort become a _woman_? Chaff looked at Haymitch. "You fuck her yet?"

"No," said Haymitch, throwing back a drink. "She hates me."

"Don't seem like it," Chaff noted. "In fact, I say she gets you."

"Ms. Trinket, what was your favorite part of your Mentor's Games?" Haymitch and Chaff both jerked at the question and Haymitch watched as Effie froze and then slowly turned and faced the person who asked the question.

"The end," said Effie coldly, and then she was gone.

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. Chaff gasped. And Seeder cursed.

Later on he saw her as she headed towards the Capitol party. He was at the bar and she stepped into the living room in a navy blue dress and a violet wig that made her look ridiculous.

"You pull another stunt like you did at that press conference you'll get yourself killed."

She looked at him. "Don't pretend like you even care," she told him, and then she was gone.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he wondered if that statement was true or not.

She was… different. Something was _different about her_ and it was _mind-boggling_.

He refused to dwell on it. Instead he drank until he couldn't see straight, and then he continued to drink some more.

He was starting to doze off when the elevator dinged open. He opened one eye and saw Effie stumbling in. He could tell it was late, later than usual, and she didn't look good, not in the least. In fact she looked _horrible_. She was tripping around and bumping into the side table and the wall.

"What the fuck?" Haymitch heard himself say.

"'M fine," mumbled Effie, and then she hiccupped.

"No you're not," Haymitch snorted, and he attempted to get up and walk towards her. He'd barely stood up and when Effie hunched over and threw up. "Well _shit_."

"I'm fine," said Effie again. "It's okay. I'm used to this."

"You throw up a lot?"

"No. You." He stopped and stared at her. Had she cleaned up after him a lot? Probably. It was hard to remember. His thoughts were interrupted as she emptied her stomach again. Sighing Haymitch headed towards her.

"You have definitely had too much. What's wrong with you? You've been acting off all week."

Effie sighed, and slid down to the floor, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. "I _hate_ this, Haymitch. I hate it all. So much death. So much pain. So much hurt. So many nightmares…. Do you know I can still see their faces? I still remember their names. Every single Tribute."

Haymitch lowered himself so that he was eyelevel with her. He frowned as he took in her appearance. She looked _bad_ , and his Escort was vain and prided herself on the way she looked.

"You're extremely drunk," Haymitch concluded.

"I just wanted the pain to go away for a little while."

"Well this ain't the way, Princess." She stared at him. "Not for you. This way suits me just fine. Don't move, I'll go get a towel." Effie did as she was told and Haymitch returned with a towel and started cleaning up her sick.

"I am sorry," she whispered quietly.

Haymitch shrugged. "I guess I deserve it. I'm sure I've had my own moments."

"Not just for this, Haymitch." He froze and looked up at her, noting the tears in her eyes. "I didn't… When I took the job, I didn't really know what I was getting myself into. When our first Tributes died, I… it destroyed me, Haymitch. For so long it'd been _fun_ … and then suddenly it wasn't anymore. I was devastated. But I had a job to do. I _have_ a job to do. I understand why you hate me. I hate me too."

"I don't hate you," Haymitch sighed. "I hate what you represent. I may have… misjudged you a little."

She shook her head. "You didn't." She wiped her eyes. "I am sure I look a mess. Will you help me to my room?"

Haymitch snorted. "Sure, but I'm not carrying you. You need to take off those skyscrapers you call shoes."

Surprisingly Effie didn't argue, but she had a hard time, whether it was from the tears in her eyes or her hands shaking. Haymitch finally took pity on her, moving her hands away, and he reached for her heels.

He struggled for a few minutes, long enough for Effie to demand that he be _delicate_ and to please _not_ ruin her shoes. He sent her a look and she narrowed his eyes at him, slapping his hands away claiming that he was hopeless.

They argued back and forth for a minute, almost like children, Haymitch trying to convince her that he _could_ do it, and they started fighting over her strap. She pulled and he pulled, until they fell into a fit of giggles that he blamed on the alcohol.

"We are utterly ridiculous," Effie exclaimed.

"Yah, I suppose we are."

"Can we call a truce now?" asked Effie softly after a while.

Haymitch stared at her. "Yah, okay."

"Good. Now carry me to my room."

He snorted. "Tough shit. I'd rather take off your shoes." He reached for her heels again, his shirt sleeve riding up, and Effie let out a startled gasp. "What? What's wrong?"

She sat there, frozen, her eyes wide, and then she scurried up and tried to melt into the wall, almost forgetting she was drunk.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Effie wasn't looking at him, but at his arm. He couldn't see what was wrong. He probably spilled some liquor on his shirt, which meant he was probably about to get a serious chewing out, she was always fussing about the state of duress his clothes were in. He stared at his arm, seeing nothing, and wondered if she was drunker than he thought.

"Are you okay? Should I call someone?" _Like a shrink_? Haymitch thought to himself.

Effie blinked and finally looked at him. There was something strange about the way she was looking at him, but she quickly masked it.

"Is that… was that your soulmark?"

"What?" Haymitch glanced at his arm and saw the mark sneaking out from under his sleeve. He frowned. He needed longer shirts, he thought. "I guess it is. Why?"

"I… I've never seen yours before," stuttered Effie. Cleaning up after Haymitch normally never involved him getting fully naked, she had yet to have to clean him a shower. Normally he was coherent enough to let her clean his face but there hadn't been a reason for her to have seen it yet.

She wished there had been.

"Yah, well, I keep it hidden. I figure the chances of me ever finding my soulmate are slim to none, and even if I did, I wouldn't be interested. All I need is a good bottle of liquor and I'm good. You can keep the love _shit_ , I don't believe in it."

Effie stared at him for a long time, her face unreadable, and then she finally nodded. "Right. I… I did not realize it was so late. Tomorrow is a big, big day, so try and get some rest. I'll see you in a few hours."

She was gone before he could blink, and he went to his room and grabbed another bottle to start drinking.

He wouldn't even remember that conversation come morning, but he did know things changed between him and Effie after that. He understood her a little better and she was a lot more patient with him.

They still fought, they would always fight he mused, and it was a fight that forced them to kiss for the first time.

It happened during the 62nd Games and he didn't even remember what they were fighting about, he just knew her voice was _annoying_ as ever, and he'd told her to shut up two or three times already, but did she ever listen? _No_.

She was singing the same old tune, about how irresponsible he was being by just drinking, and if he could stop being so _lazy_ and insufferable _maybe_ their Tributes could make it passed the Cornucopia. He really just wanted to drink in peace but she wasn't having it, and they were in each other's faces, so he kissed her.

He just wanted her to be quiet. He hadn't expected the _thrill_ or the _swoop_ in his stomach, or for his hand to act on its own accord and cup the nape of her neck, forcing him to kiss her deeper.

It wasn't until he realized Effie was kissing him back that he finally pulled away.

He just stood there, until it dawned on him that he'd just kissed a Capitol and _liked_ it.

She also seemed frozen, rooted to the spot, and she stared at him with guarded eyes and a perfectly masked face.

" _That_ was _so_ rude," she whispered, and then she was gone.

He wasn't sure if he started the next fight on purpose or not, he just knew he wanted to kiss her again, and he had a hard time admitting that, but what else could it be? From that moment on arguments tended to end in kisses, and he'd kissed his fair share of girls over the course of his life and _no one_ had made him feel like _this_.

It was a lot like one of their fights: it left him breathing hard, his heart racing, and impressed at how well she could respond.

One night, a couple of years later, a simple kiss turned into a lot more. He'd taken to kissing her both during a fight and when he was drunk, he couldn't help it, she possessed some sort of magnetic magic that made him lose his bloody mind, and not only did his lips wander but so did his hands.

This particular year was a bad one. Their Tributes had made it passed the Cornucopia and had formed an alliance, but they had been found by a Career.

The bastard didn't kill them though, at least not immediately. They had to wait two days for their Tributes to die, and they died in each other's arms.

He was pretty sure that was the last piece of compassion he had left within him. It died with those kids.

He'd gotten particularly drunk with Chaff that night and stumbled up to the Penthouse where he found Effie waiting up for him. One look was all it took and he was in her arms, and the thought he might actually lose it.

All these emotions that he'd sworn were buried deep came out of nowhere, so she held him until the pain went away, he actually lost track of how long they stood there, how many _hours_ they spent embracing, but he remembered kissing her.

How it went from that to being in her bed was beyond him, but the sex was… it was so much more than sex in that moment, he'd never known it could feel so good, he thought it was the best thing he'd ever experienced. She made him feel… _whole_ , and no one had ever done that for him, but it seemed like everything he'd been missing before no longer _mattered_. He swore he saw stars the second he entered her, and the way she responded… the way her body moved against his… in his defense he'd never had sex like this _ever_ , so he couldn't last long if he wanted to.

His first mind had told him to get up and run, immediately, because he'd just crossed a line with his Escort that he never thought he would. Despite the fact that he had long ago stopped caring about the kissing, he didn't think it would ever go _this_ far.

But some strong force kept him right where he was, on top of her, completely spent, unable to move.

"Next time I insist you wait for me to get mine as well." Effie's voice had taken on this tenderness he'd never heard before, and again, the desire to runaway was stronger than ever, but something even stronger than that kept him rooted to where he was.

"Who says there'll be a next time?" Haymitch's own voice was softer than usual, which surprised him because he'd meant to sound rude and aloof, like what they'd just did hadn't rocked his world.

Effie didn't respond to the statement, and finally Haymitch glanced down at her. Her face was blank, and he wondered how she'd gotten so good at doing that. It was harder to read her this way.

Against his own will his thumb brushed her mouth. Her eyes darted to his and then she leaned up and kissed him.

He couldn't remember ever taking off his clothes during sex before, or taking off anyone else's. Sex was a release, he always left as soon as it was over, and he'd never went back for seconds, but Effie was… she… she was a force to be reckoned with, and somehow he was tugging that _ugly_ tan suit off of her because he wanted to _see_ her, and apparently if her clothes were coming off then so were his, and they were all over each other, all pent up frustration and annoyance and _disappointment_ over their Tributes and their dislike for each other _finally_ being released, and they battled for domination until his temper flared and he pinned her down and pushed into her.

She let out a soft cry and her legs wrapped around him and she held on for the ride, her hips meeting his furiously, and he watched her, transfixed, as her body responded. She arched her back, dug her nails into his back, and moaned out his name as the orgasm tore through her.

He thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

He didn't remember falling asleep in her bed, or wrapping himself around her at any point. Sex with her had the same side effects as drinking: he felt dizzy and had a hard time remembering what the _hell_ happened.

He snuck out of bed, gathered his clothes, and got on the next train back to Twelve, ignoring the turmoil in his stomach at the thought of her waking up alone. It shouldn't _bother_ him, he thought, but it did, and he felt… vacant.

It'd never been so hard to leave the Capitol before.

It would get harder.

When she came to his place for the Reaping the following year he wanted to pretend as if they'd never crossed that line. He was the _master_ at ignoring things, and she was the master of deflection, they could pretend like it never happened.

Somehow he still pinned her against his door not _two minutes_ after she entered. One look, that was it, it was utterly ridiculous, and the train ride to the Capitol was hardly any different, for once she is not worried about the Tributes and he's not in his room getting drunker, they are going at it like rabbits and it _doesn't stop_ , not for several years, and he thinks he might be okay, he might be able to _live_ again, if she continues to give herself to him this way.

They still fought, because that is how they're built and that'll never change, but at least fights end in sex now. _Great_ sex. Incredible, mind-blowing sex.

Their bond terrifies him. Something is _happening_ but he can't figure it out. He's _attached_ , and he doesn't get attached, but he can't leave her alone, either. Every time he claims he's done she does something or wears something or gives him a _look_ and they're all over each other.

It doesn't help that she's the same way with him.

During the 69th Hunger Games something shifted. He blamed himself because he saw the signs: she was falling for him, and he gave her credit, she tried to stop it, but the force… whatever it was, it was strong. He felt the pull too, and it'd be all too easy, but the difference between him and his Escort was that he was better at hiding it. He could deny himself because he was used to denying himself, so _no_ , he would _not_ fall for her, as tempting as it was.

He knew it was a bad idea when she finally stripped for him. By this time he'd been asking her for _years_ to take off that _stupid_ Capitol mask and let him see the real her. She had told him no so many times he'd lost count, but this particular year she finally caved.

"If anyone deserves to see me like this, it is you," she told him softly, and he didn't know what that meant, he assumed it had something to do with the fact that they screwed each other's brains out at least twice a day, but he didn't dwell on it.

He'd blurted out the first and only thing that had come to mind when she entered his room, soft blonde hair curled to her shoulders, eyes astonishingly blue, skin pure white: "Fucking beautiful," and once she realized he was telling the truth, that he wouldn't make fun of her, she looked too pleased.

In retrospect he probably shouldn't have _made love_ to her that night. Sex was always brutal – he liked it that way and she had never once complained – he'd never been soft or gentle with her in bed a day in his life. Doing so now crossed another line all together. He'd already succumbed to pillow talk every now and then. Sometimes he slept over, sometimes she did, and he never understood what it was about her that made him gravitate towards her in the middle of the night, but they were _always_ wrapped around each other when they woke up. Long gone were the days that he'd just leave after their Tributes died, now he told her _goodbye_ , and he could understand how he'd given her _hope_.

That night, whispering her name in her ear and slowly moving in and out of her… it was _his_ fault, he knew, it but it wasn't love, what they did, she had to know that. He was incapable of loving, _her_ beloved Capitol had seen to that. So when she clung to him afterwards, he knew almost immediately that he'd fucked up. He couldn't stay the night too, he _couldn't_ , so he got up and immediately started collecting his things.

"Stay," she had whispered.

Haymitch had snorted, his hands shaking. "No chance in hell."

He was at the door when she said, "Don't you _feel_ it? You cannot tell me you don't Haymitch. We are—"

"We have _sex_ , Effie," Haymitch said, and he told himself it wasn't a lie. It _wasn't_ , they _did_ have sex, and damn it, it was all they could have.

She stared at him for a long time. "Not anymore. Please leave, Haymitch."

He did, because he was a coward, and for the first time in five years when he got back on that train to Twelve he felt like he'd left a piece of him behind. He'd never felt this badly, not _ever_ , and he'd gone through some pretty bad _shit_ in his day.

He thought maybe the following year he could make amends. He could try and explain why he _couldn't_ , even if he wanted to, and there was still some debate down deep if he even wanted to love her. It was _complicated_ , she was a fucking Escort, it was stupid and dangerous and crazy and it made _no sense_ whatsoever, yet here they were….

On the Reaping of the 70th Hunger Game Effie walked into his house and he knew. He _knew_ something was different, something was off, it was in her face, in her eyes.

It was in the way she wouldn't let him kiss her, or bend her over his table, or even _apologize_.

It was in the shiny not-so-subtle diamond ring on her finger.

He thought he might actually be sick. He physically felt sick, and any doubt in his mind about how he felt was now officially gone as he chased away his sorrow by tilting back a bottle until he was queasy.

It was a familiar feeling.

Chaff finds him _hiding_ in the Penthouse and convinces him to go out. They go to a nearby bar and Haymitch can tell Chaff wants to know what's wrong. He never told Chaff that he was messing around with his Escort, though his best friends had his suspicions and probably knew.

It was confirmed when the television showed Effie and her fiancé arriving at the Capitol party, hand in hand, Caesar announcing them as the _Couple of the Capitol_.

Her smile is strained, but no one but him would know that. She is unhappy, he thinks, and he doesn't know why, if it's because of what he's done to her or because she doesn't really care all that much for the bastard with the funny beard.

Chaff doesn't say a word – what can he say? – so he just buys his best mate another drink, and the two of them drink until their vision is blurry.

He and Effie are still not talking to each other, not really, aside from business related things. He's angry and annoyed and he can't help but feel betrayed, like she _belonged_ to him. He can't place when he had become so possessive, he used to pride himself on being _free_ , but damn it, she _was_ his, even if he didn't know why.

She walked on eggshells around him for a few days until one evening she barged into his room.

"You do not get to do this," she declared.

He barely spared her a glance. "Do what?"

"Be mad at me for moving on. You have made it _abundantly_ clear how you do _not_ feel, and I am done being _used_ , Haymitch. We never made each other any promises, you saw to that, and when I _tried_ to talk about it you shut me out."

He looked up at her, taking a long sip of his drink. "Leave me the fuck alone, Effie."

She looked as if he'd slapped her.

She marched up to him and grabbed his glass, throwing the contents on his face. He supposed he should have seen that coming, but it thoroughly shocked him. He sputtered and stood up.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem?"

" _You_ ," she hissed. "You are selfish, Haymitch, you only want things your way, you take without giving and I couldn't take it anymore. I needed someone to love me, not just my body. Don't I deserve that? Why don't I deserve that?"

Haymitch stared at her, his eyes glowing. "Get out," breathed Haymitch. She stood there for a few more seconds, as if debating whether or not she'd actually listen, and in the end she turned on her heels and left.

Twenty minutes later he was downstairs, heading towards the party of the night. He searched the crowd, spotting his Escort easily enough, he'd been able to do that for _years_ – she was the shortest Escort _ever_ yet he could _always_ find her within seconds.

She was on the dance floor, dancing with Crane, and they were _laughing_ , but hers was forced. The peacock probably really cared for Effie – who wouldn't? – but Effie wasn't happy. Crane dipped Effie low and then spun her around. The song ended to applause and cheers, and then Seneca pulled Effie close, his hands all over her.

Effie _let him_ and that bothered Haymitch more than _anything_ , so he headed towards her, his face set. He caught Chaff's eyes, and his best friend shook his head, his eyes pleading with him, but Haymitch ignored him.

Effie saw him coming, took one look at his face, and whispered in Seneca's ear. He hoped she had warned him that he was coming, that Crane would turn around and say something, _anything_ , because Haymitch was more than ready, beyond ready, really. But all Seneca did was nod and head off towards the bar.

He didn't care who was watching, he didn't care what people would say, he just approached Effie and grabbed her hand, leading her away. His hand on the small of her back, he guided her through the crowd, far enough so that nobody noticed them sneaking into a deserted room.

" _What_ is your _problem_?" asked Effie, her eyes flashing.

He ignored the question, yanked her to him, and kissed her. The world stopped, and his heart didn't start beating properly again until Effie moaned into his mouth. He pulled away from her so that he could look at her.

"Listen to me _very_ carefully, _Princess_. I don't want to see you with Crane _ever_ again. I don't want to see you with _anyone_ ever again." He didn't know why he was saying these things. He wanted to tell her off, call her a tease, a whore, but instead he was determined to fuck her brains out. He couldn't understand what she was _doing_ to him or how he was supposed to ever recover from her.

Effie started to protest but he covered his mouth with hers again. His hands made their way down the front of her dress and he squeezed her breasts. He _wanted_ her, and if that wasn't enough he _needed_ her, he knew that now, he just didn't know _why_.

"Get rid of him, Effie, or I swear to God I will lose my shit."

" _Why_?" challenged Effie.

"Damn it, I don't know! Just _do it_." He buried his face in her neck, inhaling sharply. She didn't smell like him anymore, and he was determined to change that and leave his mark on her.

He pressed his knee to her center and she jerked. She placed her hands firmly on his chest, her breath hitching.

"You want me to stop?" he said, his voice husky. She didn't answer, not immediately, and he forced her to look up at him by gripping her chin and lifting her face. "Do you want me to fucking stop?" She whimpered when he grabbed her ass, squeezing. She shook her head. "Good. Because I fucking want you."

She seemed to have the same idea. Her hands fumbled with his zipper as he shoved up her dress. He could barely figure out what it is they were doing until he pushed into her.

She let out a startled cry, because he was being _ruthless_ , and he forgot that it'd been over a year since she'd done this with him, and she probably had to readjust to him. Normally he took his time with her when they were first reunited but his brain wasn't thinking like that, he just had to get to her, fast, fast, fast, fast.

"I bet he doesn't make you feel this good, does he?" demanded Haymitch. Effie dug her nails into his shoulder blades and gritted her teeth, trying not to answer. "Does he? _Does_ he?"

"No," Effie mewled, throwing her head back.

"Does he make you cum like I do?" She bit her lip and then shook her head.

She came within seconds and he followed suit.

"Call of the _fucking_ engagement, Effie," he told her as he pulled out of her. "I mean it. I don't fucking share. I don't know what kind of hold you have on me—"

"You should _really_ try and figure it out, Haymitch," stated Effie coldly, pushing him away from her. She smoothed out her dress and turned away from and headed back to the party.

An hour later she was back at the Penthouse. He was in the living room drinking. She walked up to him and took the bottle from him. There was no ring on her finger.

She lifted her dress and climbed on top of him. His first mind was to flip them over but she pressed down on his chest. He rarely gave up control but he sat back and let her do the work. She reached her climax and then lazily drove him over the edge, so that by the time she was done he was kissing her slowly.

"I feel it," he told her as he forced her on her back. He wrapped her legs around his neck and entered her. "Whatever the hell it is… I don't know, Effie, I honestly don't, but whatever it is, I fucking feel it and can't let it go. I can't let _you_ go. There are no other men for you, okay?"

She arched her back, her eyes bright. "What about you?"

"I don't _want_ anyone else. I haven't for quite some time." She had ruined him. No other woman would ever amount to anything in his eyes. He was a goner and there was nothing he could do about it.

When he left that year he thought he was surely dying. He'd never admitted it to himself, let alone aloud, that he felt something for her, and in doing that it seemed to bind them together like never before. It was a long, _long_ year without her, and try as he may even the alcohol couldn't dull the pain.

He lost count of how many times he picked up his phone to call her, only to remind himself at the last minute that it was _dangerous_. On one of his more sober days, when the liquor was low, he ripped out his phone because last night he'd been _too close_ to calling her.

He _missed_ her.

And so it went on for years, and some years were worse than others, like the 74th Hunger Games when he'd missed her so badly he'd hugged her on stage in front of everyone.

And then a brown-haired, grey-eyed girl volunteered for her sister. He was stunned, utterly taken aback, and he was already on pins and needles because when Effie had called out _Primrose Everdeen_ his heart had lodged itself into is throat. That family had seen enough pain, he thought, he knew enough about his District to know that _they'd been through enough_ , and on top of that, thinking of Mrs. Everdeen made him think of Maysilee, because he could still _remember them_ as children _playing together_ , the two fair-skinned, blue eyed girls, up until a woman very much like Effie – but not _that_ much – called out Maysilee, and didn't Prim look an _awfully_ lot like Maysilee?

And _on top_ of all these memories coming out of nowhere, he also noted the way Effie tensed, ever so slightly. He _knew_ her, didn't he, and how she hated to call the younger one's names. And _she_ knew _him_ , she knew how difficult the blonde-haired blue-eyed Tributes were for him.

And then Katniss volunteered and he had to _do something_ , it was too much attention, it was the wrong kind of attention, and he had to distract the camera, the Capitol, so he did something ridiculous that would have Effie probably withholding sex from him for a few days – she was prone to doing that now, and it made him realize more than anything that he was probably in a relationship with her, whether they called it that or not.

Sure enough on that train ride Effie snuck away from Katniss and Peeta and _pitched a fit_.

"I understand _why_ you did what you did, but honestly Haymitch you could have just _fallen off stage_. _Why_ you had to involve _me_ ….?"

"Maybe I missed you," he slurred, and she rolled his eyes. "I did miss you. Your train was late today and you didn't even come see me before the Reaping." He was whining slightly and she found herself more amused than irritated. He pulled her to him and she let him. "I want you," he told her, pressing his face into her stomach.

"You are drunk," stated Effie, and he pouted, because he was, and she refused to sleep with him whenever he was drunk. "I need you to clean yourself up and make dinner. They're _different_ , Haymitch, I can feel it."

They were different, and he tried to make an effort, but perhaps he had drank a little more than he thought. He hadn't meant to throw up on Effie's shoes – surely she'd ignore him for a _week_ for that – but the next morning he was prepared to help them, except they were so _eager_ to learn.

Effie looked like she might _murder_ him for getting into it with Peeta but he'd gone long enough without having her inside of him so he took her against her chest of drawers, covering her mouth with his hand.

He should have taken the time to enjoy that moment with her. He knew that Katniss volunteering had already started a buzz, but their costumes outright started a spark. When Katniss and Rue formed their alliance, and then Rue was killed, and Haymitch found out that Eleven was rebelling… things got complicated pretty quickly.

He learned very quickly that his Escort wasn't stupid. Any relief they felt at the fact that they were bringing home two Tributes was short-lived. A simple, "Haymitch" from Effie and he _knew_ there would be hell to pay, and she knew it too.

They had to be careful now. He became more distant, because that spark was turning into a flame, and if they weren't careful Katniss would set Panem ablaze.

He was _counting_ on that, but he wasn't sure Effie was. Sure he felt like he _knew_ her, but he only knew her a few weeks out of the year. She was a Capitol citizen, she had her own loyalties, and even though there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that he was _wrong,_ he pushed that feeling aside and kept Effie in the dark.

It was _safer_ that way.

It wasn't until Katniss told him that Snow had visited her on the Victory Tour that he freaked out. He told himself that it was time to get serious about the Rebellion and he couldn't be _serious_ if he was screwing his Escort, so he told himself it was time to push her aside….

And then that man was shot and killed and the scream Effie let out was both proof that she wasn't ready for war and it was also proof that he wouldn't be able to just _let her go_. His first instinct had been to protect her at all cost, but she proved she didn't exactly need protecting. She'd been frightened, yes, but she wasn't running away.

He _lost it_ when those Peacekeepers brought her back to the train, and he'd marched her into her room like a _child_ and told her to never pull a stunt like that again.

"If they had touched you I'd have killed them, and their blood would be on your hands. Don't fucking make me tell you again." He'd stormed out then and gulped down as much liquor as he could to keep the fear at bay, and then he pretty much ignored her for the rest of the night, until it became unbearable and he spent the rest of the night both trying to make her scream and keep her quiet.

They didn't have too much more time for their secret rendezvous during the Victory Tour. She snuck into his room when they left Snow's mansion on the last night, and it was the first time she slept with him when he was really, truly drunk and he suspected that she assumed he needed the comfort – which he did.

The Quarter Quell announcement was his undoing, and Effie stumbled into his house on the day of the Reaping and he imagined that all of District 12 heard them. She slipped out of her dress, straddled him, and rocked his world for so long that they were nearly late. Using his hands for balance she jerked her hips into his and he let her lead because she knew how out of control she felt – before long she would be forced to _maybe_ call his name and it would destroy her, he knew, because despite the fact that they'd never talked about it she did still love him, very much.

She leaves afterwards and he couldn't help but wonder how she could even walk. He was utterly spent and she was the one who did all the work.

He made his way to the stage, the Peacekeepers by his side, and halts, slightly, when he sees her in that _stupid_ butterfly dress and the Mockingjay wig on her head.

She _knew_ what she was doing, she was _smart_ , and he couldn't stop his blood from boiling at the sight of her. He didn't give a damn whose name she called, when they were on that train he was going to _kill_ her.

Only _she_ attacked _him_ when he barged into her room, a thousand apologies on her lips for picking his name, a million tears running down her face as she locked her legs around his waist.

He was supposed to tell her no but when had he _ever_ been able to do so? So he made his way to her bathroom and shut the door, both turning on the radio and the faucet and the shower because Effie Trinket wasn't _quiet_ and for someone who had just gotten off a little while ago she was certainly clinging on to him for dear life.

He had scratches on his back and love marks on his neck that made him growl in frustration because they weren't supposed to _do_ that. They didn't leave _marks_ , and if they did they were in places no one else could see. He knew one year there were two dozen or so in between her thighs – he remembered counting them and kissing them the next night – but this was _obvious_ , if Snow looked too closely he would be able to make out _exactly_ what those marks were.

He told her off for being careless and reminded her that they were all being watched now, and she couldn't keep being _stupid_. He made her take off the wig and the dress and told her not to wear it again.

"You're a fucking Capitol citizen. _Act like it_ ," he told her.

He hurt her, he knew, but it was better that way. He hid his annoyance about her wanting them to be a team until later on that night, but she would not budge, she was determined to pledge her allegiance to them. She finally told him to get out, that she was an adult and would very well do as she pleased, and she even went as far as opening her bedroom door.

The Quell had them all on pins and needles and he took out his fear on her because she was being _stupid_. He couldn't risk her life, he _couldn't_ , and he didn't understand why it was so difficult to shake her, try as he may. The more he tried to pull away the more she pushed back, and he found himself wrapped around her hours before he was set to get on that hovercraft.

He thought maybe deep down she knew it was goodbye, because her eyes locked with his as he moved inside of her, and it seemed like she wanted something from him. He tried to tell her with his body because he'd never be able to tell her with his mouth, so he planted kisses and plummeted his hips into hers and held her hand and moaned out her name, hoping she'd get it and that it'd leave her something to remember him by when he left.

He didn't expect it to hurt so badly. Life without Effie was _cruel_ , there was no other word for it, and a part of him felt _lost_. He thought about her, more often than he thought he would, but he was happy in knowing that she was safe.

When he found out she was missing… when Plutarch had delivered that news… he was positive he'd never recover. He was convinced that he would _die_ right here in Thirteen, and no one could understand his rhyme or reason for acting so rashly, _he_ couldn't even understand it, he just knew that while she was missing, so was a piece of him.

The Capitol might as well have one of his arms, or one of his legs.

Or his heart.

The Capitol had his heart.

But they'd been _careful_ , damn it. Hadn't they? They _had_ to have been. No one knew, he didn't even know half the time, he was confused on most days and drunk on the other days. He spent the majority of his time telling himself that Effie meant _nothing_ , but apparently someone saw through that.

She'd been missing for weeks when they finally took the Capitol. He should have been relieved, he should have felt some sort of _relief_ but he _didn't_. He realized that he spent too much time leaving the life of people he cared about in the wrong hands.

 _He_ would be the one to search for Effie, because _he_ was convinced no one had searched properly, and damn it _he_ ended up being the one to find her.

The _only_ reason he didn't kill anyone in that hospital for not alerting him – her name was on _every_ list imaginable, he had seen to that, if she was found he was supposed to be _told_ – was because she was unrecognizable. _He_ knew her because he _knew_ her, didn't he? But the wig and makeup were gone and he realized that no one would know her for who she was if she wasn't awake to give her name.

She looked like _shit_ : hair chopped and uneven, her face was sunken in, she had a nearly healed black eye – but she was _alive_ , so he focused on that. Focusing on anything else would make it so that that beast he had left in his Quell would be unleashed.

She was so still, so fragile, so much so that he found himself watching her chest just to ensure that it was rising and falling. He slid his hand into hers and _begged_ her to wake up, but she never moved.

He was asleep when he felt it: the grip was firm but familiar. How many times had he fallen asleep with her hand clutched in his over the years? He sat up and their eyes locked. He thought for the first time he was rendered speechless.

"Haymitch," she breathed.

"Hello, Princess."

"Katniss? Peeta?" The concern was there, immediately.

"They're alive," was all he could say in regards to them, and she seemed to understand.

Her eyes fluttered closed. "I don't know if I should kill you or kiss you."

Haymitch's heart hammered. "I vote for the latter."

She opened her eyes and stared at him. They were much too vacant for his liking, and he realized how much he had taken her for granted, _all_ of her, even that which was as simple as her eyes, which were always bright with _something_ as she looked at him, be it anger, amusement, disappointment.

 _Love_.

Now they were just… empty.

"And if it came down to hating you or loving you?"

Haymitch inhaled sharply. "I'd still vote for the latter."

She stared at him for a long time and he kept her gaze. "I think hating you would take too much time. I am afraid I have loved you for too long. Hating is _your_ job."

"I don't hate you, Princess. I tried. I've _tried_. I _can't_."

"Do you _want_ to hate me?"

He shook his head. "No. I haven't hated you or wanted to hate you in a long, long time."

She took a deep breath. "Can you get me some water?"

He was up in a second, pouring her a glass. She took a tentative sip and sighed, leaning back. After a few seconds she sat back up and reached over to sit the cup back down to her right.

That's when he saw it. It was on the back of her neck, smaller than his, but identical nonetheless. He gripped her bed as the room swayed, everything suddenly making so much sense: the way she always wore tops that covered the nape of her neck, the way she would powder the back of her neck sometimes, the way she wouldn't let him bend her over something if her wig wasn't in place….

Then he thought of everything else: the way he couldn't stay away from her, the way they _fitted_ together, the way he felt lost when she wasn't around. That unnatural _pull_ he'd always felt, the jealousy every time another man looked at her, the _possessiveness_ every time another man touched her. The way he'd wanted to _kill_ Crane for proposing to her.

Why she decided to take off her wig and makeup for him. " _If anyone deserves to see me like this, it's you_."

How he didn't feel _complete_ unless he was with her.

The way he had always wanted to claim her as _his_ , because she _was_.

"Effie," he finally whispered out, and she turned to him.

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. He slowly stood up and reached over and turned her head.

"Yes, I know. My hair is a mess. I never knew how much I liked my real hair until I did not have in anymore."

He ignored the statement and kept staring. Then, without his own consent, he bent down and his lips brushed the soulmark.

Effie jerked, as if she just remembered that it was there, and she probably did just remember. He kissed it again, and then he bought his face to hers and kissed her.

She tasted as amazing as he remembered.

"Why didn't you ever _say_ anything?" he asked in between kisses. If he wasn't so afraid that he'd hurt her he'd climb on top of her and inside of her. He _needed_ her, he had all this adrenaline, this _relief_ inside of him, and the thought that they had been _created_ for each other both confused and thrilled him.

"'All I need is a good bottle of liquor and I'm good. You can keep the love _shit_ , I don't believe in it.'" She repeated the words he had spoken to her so many years ago, and having them tossed back in his face made him he laugh.

"I haven't been that man in _years_ , Effie. I was an _idiot_. You should have said something."

"You had to figure it out on your own, if I had told you you'd have resented me. It would not have been your choice."

"I thought I was going mad," he confessed softly.

"I felt like I was. I felt very much alone most of the time." He cringed and she reached out for him. "It does not matter. It does not bother you?"

"No," whispered Haymitch. "Not at all."

Her eyes welled with tears. "I've waited fifteen years for you to tell me that."

"I'm done making you wait, Princess."

"Good. I have waited long enough."

He caressed her cheek. "I think subconsciously I've known all along."

"Of course you did. You didn't need to _see_ my mark to _feel_ it. You knew. I am sure I did not make it easy. I fell for you and I fell quite hard, it is hard to hide that, and you see everything. We are soulmates, Haymitch, and you didn't need a mark to tell you that. You weren't even surprised when you saw my soulmark. Did you notice that?"

She was right. He'd felt a lot of things, but surprise wasn't one of them.

"Our soulmarks are just something physical. That's all the mark of the soul is."

"I'd have chosen you regardless," Haymitch told her.

Effie flashed him a smile, and this one went all the way up to her eyes. "Me too."

He kissed her lips, marking her as his the same way their marks claimed their souls.

* * *

A/N: Absolutely my favorite Hayffie one shot EVER, you hear me!?


	258. Alone Together

Alone Together: Daley f/ Marsha Ambrosius. Listen to it. You're welcome.

 **ALONE TOGETHER**

 **Rated M**

 _A definite silence_ _  
_ _You're almost exactly what I need_ _  
_ _A definite maybe  
Is sure to entice my curiosity_ _  
_ _I can't help but think that this doesn't add up_ _  
_ _I'm trying to separate the facts from all the fiction_ _  
_ _We're living in a world of contradictions  
And if baby you're the truth then I'm lying next to you_

* * *

He must have stood there looking at her for about an hour before he finally moved aside and let her in the house. The silence was deafening, and he stood there debating for several moments, his mouth dry, his heart pounding.

He didn't _know_ this Effie, with her vacant eyes, plain dress, and insecure smile, but his curiosity was peaked.

Truthfully, they were a walking contradiction: the Victor and the Escort. It didn't make sense, it _never_ added up, there had been so many lies between them he had no clue was fact and fiction.

Still, when she came to him, in the middle of the night, he found a little bit of truth while she was lying next to him.

* * *

 _And you're the desert sand, I'll be your water_ _  
_ _And you're the perfect plan I never thought of_ _  
_ _I don't wanna do this on my own  
And you shouldn't have to be alone  
I would rather be alone together  
Be alone together_

* * *

She made Haymitch _miss_ things he never even knew were possible to miss. He _thirsted_ for her, more than water, more than liquor, more than _breathing_.

For all his thoughts and ideas and plans… she was the one he didn't plan for.

He felt stupid.

She showed him _loneliness_ , that life before her was miserable, that people were not made to be alone.

For years he had wanted to be alone.

Now? Now he thought they could be alone.

Together.

* * *

 _Well my heart's been racing, chasing after you_ _  
_ _You're the sweetest dream my incredible you_ _  
_ _You're the star so bright, you're eyes the lightest blue  
I can't help but stare at you_ _  
_ _So soft your lips, the wind blow in my hair, yeah_ _  
_ _Come closer let me whisper in your ear_ _  
_ _'cause what will be will be every chance you give to me  
You will see yeah yeah_

* * *

Effie's heartbeat sped up the first time he slipped into her. It had been eight months, three weeks, four days, and seventeen hours since she had been here, and finally, _finally_ she remembered the stuff dreams were made of.

He brightened her again, she had been dim for too long, she had been _invisible_ , until he filled her, until he brought her back and made her _feel_ again. She remembered the art of _color_ : his bright grey eyes, currently dim with lust – and maybe, perhaps, if she were not hallucinating, something more. Her eyes were shockingly blue against her skin, taking him all in, every inch, every piece.

She whispered his name in his ear, again, and again, happy – _grateful_ – that she was given another chance.

When she stuttered out, "I love you," he just whispered back,

"I know."

* * *

 _I always keep you safe in my arms_ _  
_ _I will guarantee that I will never break your heart_ _  
_ _I'll always put you first cause you deserve the world_ _  
_ _I wanna know you_ _  
_ _I wanna hold you baby_ _  
_ _I wanna show you_

* * *

She felt safest in his arms, and it wasn't all that difficult to admit that he felt safest in hers. They sought and found comfort in each other in ways nothing or no one else could give them, and they had _tried_ – her, with her little blue pills, him with his liquor. Neither had done anything for them, not like they did for each other.

He had broken her heart before, but he'd be damned if he ever did it again. He understood how fragile it was now, and after everything he'd put her through, he decided she deserved the world.

She deserved _much more_ than him, but he was who she chose.

He no longer took that for granted.

So when the nightmares plagued her he climbed into her bed, until one day his room became _their_ room.

He learned her.

He held her.

He _showed_ her.

He never cared about being alone.

As long as they were alone together.

* * *

A/N: Didn't seem to get much interest in the soulmark AU multi-chap fic I asked about last chapter, so I guess issa nah, but you guys really seemed to enjoy the one-shot. I loved writing it. Thanks for the support :)


	259. A Million Years Ago

A/N: Welp so my car was broken into last night -_- Nothing of great value was taken but still, it's a damn shame. I live in a suburban home, I don't keep anything valuable... what's the point? I'm more annoyed than anything smh. As usual, Hayffie makes me feel better.

* * *

 _Adele, A Million Years Ago. As usual, not a song fic, just inspiration._

 _I only wanted to have fun_

 _Learning to fly..._

 _Learning to run..._

 _I let my heart decide the way_

 _When I was young..._

 _Deep down I must have always known_

 _That this would be inevitable_

 _To earn my stripes I'd have to pay!_

 _And bear my soul_

 _I know I'm not the only one_

 _Who regrets the things they've done_

 _Sometimes I just feel it's only me_

 _Who can't stand the reflection that they see_

 _I wish I could live a little more_

 _Look up to the sky, not just the floor_

 _I feel like my life is flashing by  
And all I can do is watch and cry  
I miss the air, I miss my friends, I miss my mother  
I miss it when life was a party to be thrown  
But that was a million years ago_

 _When I walk around all of the streets  
Where I grew up and found my feet  
They can't look me in the eye  
It's like they're scared of me  
I try to think of things to say  
Like a joke or a memory  
But they don't recognize me now in the light of day_

 **MILLION YEARS AGO**

 **Rated T**

Effie wasn't sure if she blamed Haymitch for ruining her, or the Capitol itself. It was _easier_ to blame Haymitch. He had certainly had his hand, his part, in her destruction. But truth be told it wasn't completely his fault.

It took her nearly a million years to see it.

 _That_ wasn't particularly her fault. Those months in that cell had practically made her brain dead. She had _lost_ herself in that cell, it was the only way that she could cope, _especially_ when Johanna, Peeta, and Annie had been rescued and she had been left to _die_.

She had known she wouldn't be rescued. She had _known_. Because Haymitch, for _once_ , had put his faith in the Capitol, had convinced himself enough to almost have convinced her that she was safer in the Capitol, they all agreed that she had played her role well, no one could suspect her, she was Effie _Trinket_ , darling of the Capitol, and any doubts she had Haymitch had a way of kissing them away.

But in thinking she was safe with Capitol Haymitch would have never known she was missing, he would have never thought to look for her.

She had foolishly hoped that Johanna would tell Haymitch she was there, they shared a cell more often than not, Effie had thought they had grown somewhat close, but no one came for her, Effie thought perhaps Johanna still only saw her as an Escort, and after the guards had taunted her enough times with phrases like, " _You were only Haymitch's whore_ ," or " _You were just Haymitch's bitch_ ," she secretly started agree.

She believed them, and she believed it even when the world blew up behind her and she woke up a few days later in Plutarch's mansion, Haymitch by her side, a bottle in his hand.

It took a long time for her to believe that he was not a dream, but she was terrified to feel relief, she had known what _hope_ could do, and she was not looking forward to going down that rabbit hole again.

So she ignored the looks of remorse Haymitch sent, she never acknowledged his apologies, and when he told her he was to go back with Twelve she tried not to flinch at the thought that he was leaving her _again_.

When he asked her to come with him she slammed the door in his face.

She felt like an idiot when she hoped he'd barge back in, pick her up, and take her to the train. She stood there, at her front door, all night, still waiting for him.

When she realized she was alone again, like she had been all those months in that cell, she _finally_ broke down.

She wasn't sure how she began to pick up the pieces. She knew the first time Plutarch found her she was still lying near the door, and she had foolishly _hoped_ that it was Haymitch, only she had learned that Haymitch had already been back in Twelve for _days_.

She was nearly dehydrated and absolutely starved, so Plutarch helped nurse her back to health, for weeks apparently, though Effie hardly remembered them.

She asked about her parents, once, while Plutarch was trying to convince her to eat in the bed she never left, and the way Plutarch cringed showed all she needed to know.

Dead.

They were dead.

How lucky of them.

Johanna called once. Effie didn't say anything, even as the Victor explained how she had _told_ the Rebels to take her, they refused, and suddenly Effie remembered that: there was something about her not being on the list, they couldn't rescue everyone, and Johanna left cursing. Johanna said they'd drugged her, and the next few weeks were hazy with the Morphling in her system – the Morphling she had probably gotten addicted to, but Effie didn't say anything.

She didn't say anything at all.

"If it makes any difference Haymitch tried to kill me when he found out you'd been held captive and I hadn't said anything, but I was so fucked up, Trinket, you _have_ to believe me."

Silence.

"Haymitch _definitely_ killed the guards, though, all of them, if that'll make you feel any better."

 _Nothing_ could make her feel better, so she remained silent, until Johanna became defensive, and then snarky, claiming she was only going to apologize once. When Effie still hadn't said anything Johanna cursed and hung up.

Effie missed her voice as soon as it was gone.

She let the phone drop, remaining off the hook, and turned over, allowing sleep to consume her.

In her dreams she was always with Haymitch.

On her darkest days, she missed her innocence. She missed having fun, walking the Capitol and thinking she lived in the most perfect city. She missed her _privilege_. She missed being able to chase away the doubts of the Games, and even as she grew up and realized that one day she knew she would be stripped of that innocence, that it was inevitable, she just continued to party and have a good time, until she met Haymitch Abernathy and he'd taken that innocence from her without a single thought.

Effie wasn't sure when she stopped hating him for that. Sometime between the sixty-fifth and seventieth Hunger Game, it was all so hazy.

Like now. Now was hazy. She knew time was passing, she just didn't know how _much_ time.

When she went outside for the first time, she realized either only a few days had passed, or it had been a full year, because there was snow on the ground. She figured it'd been a year when she noticed the construction. They were rebuilding the city.

She wondered, if like the city, she could be rebuilt.

She doubted it.

Especially as people cowered away from her and got out of her way as she walked passed them.

She ran into Enobaria one day – literally ran into her. _She_ looked the same, for the most part, snarl and all, and it wasn't until Effie had gasped out a soft 'Sorry' that Enobaria seemed to recognize her. They stared at each other for a few moments, and Effie tried to think of something to say, some memory to latch on to where she might be able to calm the tension, but nothing came to mind.

That was okay. It didn't seem like Enobaria wanted to play nice.

Effie decided she didn't like the dark gleam in Enobaria's eyes, so she hastily made her way, grateful the streets were crowded, though Effie didn't know _why_.

It wasn't until she really started to look around that she noticed the Christmas decorations.

So it was business as usual in the Capitol, then. Panem would still go on, while she was _dying_ inside, alone, afraid, _unworthy_.

Unhappy.

Happiness seemed like a million years ago.

It still took another six months for her to look at herself properly. She'd long ago covered the mirrors in her apartment, but finally one day she removed the covers and looked at herself.

Her hair had grown back, but unevenly. Her eyes were haunted, vacant, and her skin was hallow and pale. She was still so tiny, too tiny, and she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten properly.

She had just finished cutting her hair when she heard her front door kick in.

Effie screamed, thinking of Peacekeepers and Rebels alike, and she was so disoriented that the only thing she could think of was to protect herself with her scissors.

 _Stupid_ of her not to be armed. She _knew_ better. Haymitch _always_ slept with his knife, he always had his knife on him, _how_ had she not done the same?

Her last coherent thought was of Haymitch.

When she was woke up it was dark. Effie gasped, attempting to sit up, but she was tied down.

Oh _no_. No, no, no, no. She was back in the cell. Had everything been a dream?

She was okay with that. If it was a dream then when she found Haymitch, she would go back to Twelve with him, it was the decision she should have _always_ made, she just had to get the _hell_ up out of here first.

"Effie, stop, _stop_!"

The voice had her freezing, and then she was looking into a familiar pair of grey eyes.

"You're okay, Princess."

"Haymitch," she breathed, and she felt the tears, they were hot down her cheek. "Please, _please_ get me out of here. I do _not_ want to be a prisoner anymore. I know I was bad, _I know_ , but _please_ , how much longer am I to be punished?"

"Sh, Princess. You're not in a cell anymore."

"P-People came to my _house_ , Haymitch," and now she was sobbing, "they came to my house to steal me away, but I do not _know_ anything, I kept telling them that, but they never believed me. I told them _nothing_ , I never said _anything_ , so _please_ , get me _out_ of here."

"I'm _trying_ , I've been here for three days, they won't let me release you, not without being your Power of Attorney, and it's taking some _time_." Effie continued to sob. "Please stop crying, Princess, I can't take it."

He looked away from her, and she noticed his hands shaking. "You're not in a cell. People _did_ come to your house…." His voice trailed and then he plummeted on. "You were being evicted, Princess. Your money's been tied up for about a year so you haven't been making any payments."

Effie blinked, realizing she didn't remember the last time she'd dealt with anything as common as money.

"At first Plutarch was helping you, but there was only so much he could do between your rent and his mortgage. He tried to reach out to me, but I don't have a phone, and I got his letters but why the _fuck_ would I read them? I had no clue—" Haymitch bit his tongue, a dark scowl on his face. "It doesn't matter. It's my fault, _again_ , and it wasn't until Plutarch _finally_ made his way to Twelve that he told me what was going on, he told me how those people barged into your home.

"They paid for that," he assured her darkly. "They had strict orders on how to approach you, they were supposed to wait for Plutarch, who got stuck in _traffic_ , so they went in and did what they always did, probably scared the _shit_ out of you. You… attacked one with a pair of scissors. Got him pretty good in the shoulder." Haymitch smiled proudly at that. "Then they stuck a needle in you and brought you to the hospital. You've been out of it for three days."

"Haymitch, I want to go _home_ ," whispered Effie.

"I'm working on that, too. I'm working on getting you your money back, Paylor herself is working on your behalf. Right now your apartment belongs to the Capitol, and there's a lot of red tape. My name alone isn't making this move any faster. For now, we can get you in a hotel—"

"I do not _want_ a hotel, I want to go _home_ ," she repeated.

"Princess—"

"I do not want to be here anymore. I _hate_ it here. _Please_ ask me to come back home with you again. _Please_." She was becoming hysterical again. "I _waited_ for you, I waited by my door for _three days_ for you to come and get me, did you not learn from the last time you left me in the Capitol? I do not _belong_ here, and if you had a single good bone left in your alcohol induced body you would take me back on the first train to Twelve, I do not _care_ if you hate me, I want to go _home_."

Haymitch stayed quiet for several moments. "Twelve is home?" He didn't quite hide the hope in his voice.

" _Yes_."

He didn't need to hear anything else. He didn't _want_ to hear anything else. He made a couple of phone calls, signed the necessary paperwork, and then he was taking Effie out of the hospital. There was a car waiting for them, and they made their way to the train station, both of them silent.

On the train, before it left, Haymitch reached out and touched her. "Are you sure?" She did not dignify that with a response, she just turned around and embraced him, and then she was all over him, and his question of if she was sure once again fell on deaf ears, and neither one of them were even fully naked before he was inside of her, and she rocked her hips into his, clawing at his back, needing him, _needing him_ like never before, and the way he was holding on to her was proof that he _never_ wanted to let her go.

She didn't want him to let her go.

"I don't hate you," he told her once he could breathe properly again. "And I'm sorry for leaving you behind, _twice_."

Effie turned to him. "I do not blame you," stated Effie softly. She reached out and touched his face, wanting to make sure he was real. "I am broken, Haymitch."

He snorted. "So am I."

"You are not broken. You are the strongest, bravest man I know."

He snorted again. "Brave? Princess, I lost my _shit_ when I found out you were missing. I thought it was over. I didn't care about _shit_ else. Even when Finnick and Prim died, I was just _numb_. I was _broken_ , Princess, in every sense of the word. I couldn't help Katniss. Peeta's done more for her in the six months that he'd been back than I did. I almost killed those men for the way they entered your apartment."

"I am glad it happened. I have no idea how much longer I would have stayed there, wasting away. I would have come home eventually. I know I would have. I just do not know how much more time I would have wasted."

Haymitch was silent for a few moments. "How long has it been since the Capitol's been your home?"

Effie thought back to the years between the sixty-fifth and seventieth Hunger Games. She'd fallen for him at some point, enough to have asked him once if he loved her, and he'd bolted from her room so fast half the time she thought she'd imagined the whole conversation, only he'd ignored her for the remaining trip. She'd gotten engaged to Seneca by the next year, the sixty-sixth Games, and Haymitch had had a _fit_ , she'd never seen him like that before, and then during the sixty-seventh Games he'd made her break up with Seneca, which she was all too happy to do because Haymitch had _ruined_ her for other men.

She couldn't tell him all that. He was still afraid of commitment, no matter what was transpiring with them at the moment. She could respond by saying as long as he'd loved her, or as long as she loved him, but that would probably scare him. She thought vague would be best.

She gave him a soft smile, her first smile in _months_ , and said, "At least a million years ago."

He took his answer for what it was, and found he couldn't quite hold in his own smile.


	260. Of Old Girlfriends and New Insecurities

**OF OLD GIRLFRIENDS AND NEW INSECURITIES**

 **Rated M**

Johanna was in a _funk_ , and had been all night. Nobody knew what was wrong but she was being quite the _bitch_ , even more so than usual, and that was saying something.

Effie assumed it had something to do with her being there.

Johanna had been a member of the crew for two years now, but she had never understood why a bunch of Victors asked how high every time an Escort said to jump. She particularly tended to make a big deal about Haymitch of all people catering to his Escort's every command and demand, he followed her orders like a lost puppy looking for approval from its master.

It was _sickening_ in Johanna's mind.

Tonight they were all attending the Capitol party, Effie had had to do _quite_ a few tricks last night to convince Haymitch to come, and he had kept his word because she had kept him satisfied – not that it was that hard, she was good in bed and worse, according to him, she knew she was.

She knew what he wanted, what he needed, and how to deliver it.

Normally at these kinds of parties she was off doing her thing and he was hanging with the Victors, but for some reason Chaff had asked her to have a few drinks with them, and Finnick's eyes had brightened at the suggestion.

Still, she looked at Haymitch, who just smirked, so she took that as her cue.

That had been three drinks ago, and she found she was having quite a good time, she was laughing at Chaff's jokes, Finnick kept attempting to make Haymitch jealous, and Haymitch had taken to rubbing his thumb against her leg, whether consciously or subconsciously Effie didn't know or care, she just knew she wanted him. As the night went on and Finnick kept making his jokes Haymitch's face got darker and his thumb went from caressing her to squeezing her thigh.

It made her quite _hot_.

Johanna seemed to be the only one who had an issue.

For the most part Effie ignored her crude comments and rude teasing, for the most part they _all_ did, they were having _fun_ tonight, and Effie hadn't had _fun_ in years. Haymitch's hand was getting _dangerously_ close to being in between her thighs and a part of her thought of how thrilling it'd be to have his finger inside of her at a party with so many people around.

He must have noticed the way her breathing had quickened because he whispered in her ear, "You wanna _fuck_ me, don't you?"

It was so _vulgar_ , so dirty, but it was so Haymitch.

She tried to play it cool. "I have no idea what you are talking about?"

He arched an eyebrow. "That lie will cost you."

She jutted out her chin. "How?"

"I _will_ make you beg for it, Princess, and won't touch you until you do."

He was good for the threat. Once upon a time she might have _thought_ she held all the power, but Haymitch Abernathy was a Quarter Quell Victor, he won by any means necessary. At different points in time one held the power over the other, she had certainly had _him_ begging before, but clearly right now he had the upper hand.

"You will be disappointed," stated Effie, her voice quivering more than she liked.

Haymitch had a response ready, she could practically hear it come out of his mouth when Johanna stood up suddenly.

"I can't _take_ this shit anymore," she snapped, glaring at them. "You're _eye fucking_ her right now."

Haymitch took a sip of his liquor, staring at Johanna. "Come on, Jo. Jealousy is not very becoming of you."

" _Fuck_ jealousy. This is your _Escort_. Sure, she's easy, _everybody's_ had a go at Trinket—"

"Not _everybody_ ," Chaff stated, earning a glare from Effie and a scowl from Haymitch. He winked at his best mate.

"But this is _sick_ ," continued Johanna as if Chaff hadn't spoken. "You're into her. You're _into_ your Escort."

"Well, not technically," Effie deadpanned.

Johanna snarled at her. "Shut the fuck up."

Effie stood up, straightening her dress. " _Nobody_ gets to talk to me that way."

"You are _pathetic_. You sit there _pining_ after a man who only fucks you because he wants to _literally_ fuck the Capitol. You are _nothing_ to him."

"And I _still_ rank higher than you on his list of important people."

" _Bitch_ ," Johanna said, low and cold.

"Jo," warned Haymitch, and it was like he saw something that Effie was missing. "Shut up."

Johanna ignored him. "You are _blind_ , Trinket. Haymitch doesn't give a _shit_ about you. He _hates_ the Capitol, and you're the epitome of a Capitol. If Haymitch _ever_ looks at you as anything other than a stupid Capitol bitch, it's because he's picturing his girl."

The silence was magnified.

 _Magnified._

"That's right. He's picturing Nova when he's inside of you."

The backhand Effie gave Johanna surprised everyone. The Victor fell to the floor and Finnick and Chaff were up before anyone. Finnick was the one who led her back to the Penthouse.

It took hours for Haymitch to come to her room.

He walked in on her packing.

"Goin' somewhere?" he asked.

"I am going home," declared Effie evenly, not looking at him.

"But the Games aren't over."

"They are for me." She placed the items in the bag as if they had done a great offense to her. Haymitch watched her for a few moments, silent as she turned towards her vanity. Effie _never_ left the Games before they over. He used to, before _them_ , he used to be out of the Capitol as fast as he could. In many cases he'd fucked her then left her without so much as a goodbye. Now? Now there was this ache inside of him whenever he was away from her.

"You are _nothing_ like her," Haymitch told her.

Effie froze, her eyes locking with him in the mirror.

"I know. I _know_." Her eyes welled with tears but she firmed up her face and refused to let them fall.

"That's not what I meant," sighed Haymitch. He was _shit_ at this. "I don't… I've never…." He felt his temper flaring. "For _fuck's_ sake, your name falls easily enough from my lips. I don't have to _make_ myself say your name, half the time I'm tellin' myself to stop but my brain does what it wants. You're different, okay? There's nothing to mistake. You are…." He searched for the right word, couldn't find it. "Well, she was…." Again his voice trailed.

"I cannot compete with a ghost. I _won't_."

"There is no competition," Haymitch snapped.

Effie cringed. She actually flinched.

"Effie, you're—"

"You whisper her name in your sleep."

"Yah?" snarled Haymitch. "How long ago?"

Effie blinked.

"Nova…" Haymitch let out a heavy sigh, his voice softer. "I haven't really thought about her in a while, okay? Not like I think about you. She is a part of past that I try not to think about."

"And I am a part of a future you _refuse_ to think about."

"Because if I think about it, you'll meet the same fate she did! What's so hard about getting that? Everything about me is a fucking death wish. I'm the walking dead. You think I don't think about it? About _you_? You think I don't wonder what my life would be if I was fucking normal? If Snow hadn't taken everything from me? It would be easy with you, don't you see that?"

Haymitch seemed to recognize what he said seconds too late.

He would run, Effie assumed, and he looked like he was about to, but instead, he headed to her bar cart, screwing the top off and drinking straight from the bottle.

Effie stayed where she was for a few minutes, unsure of what to do.

"How did this happen?" She wasn't sure Haymitch was talking to her. "How the _fuck_ did this happen?" He sat down heavily on her bed. Effie slowly made her way to him, kneeling down and resting between his legs. She waited until he met her gaze. His eyes were darks as he stared back at her. "Jo _lied_ ," he assured her. "She was wrong, okay? She was fucking wrong and she's a fucking _bitch_. She played off your insecurities, and I let it happen because I never thought you'd think that. I don't get it. _I don't get it_. Because they all know. Finnick was trying to make me jealous, Chaff just humors me but he knows. _Everybody_ knows. How could you _not_?"

Effie looked at him. "Know _what_?"

"Don't make me say it. For _fuck's_ sake don't make me say it. People I say it to _die_."

"Just tell me you feel the same way," she breathed.

He stared at her. "What the _fuck_ do you think I'm doing here?"

She pushed him down on the bed, really she _pinned_ him down, catching him off guard, her lips _scorching_ against his. He thought maybe he _might_ say the words after all, she was all over him and he realized he liked the feeling more than any other feeling, it was better than the best liquor.

He was blind with lust by the time she sunk down on him, and together they rocked out orgasm after orgasm, Haymitch calling her name louder and louder with every thrust.

It was the only name he _wanted_ to call.

He was done for, _ruined_.

They lay there panting for what felt like hours.

Eventually Effie felt Haymitch reach for her hand. He brushed her knuckles and Effie winced.

"You should get some ice on that. It'll be bruised in the morning."

"How lucky am I to be alive?" asked Effie.

"I wouldn't have let her touch you," Haymitch said. "I'd have killed her first."

"I do not know who was angrier, me or Finnick."

Haymitch paused. " _Me_." Effie remained silent. " _No one_ gets to talk about Nova. And _no one_ gets to fuck with you. Johanna did both tonight." Haymitch sat up on his elbows and looked at her. "But one good thing came from tonight." She arched an eyebrow. "I learned you have a mean right hook. Johanna's lip is swollen and there's a bruise on her cheek."

Effie smiled. "I am normally not violent, but I have to admit, it felt _good_."

"I had no idea you knew how to fight."

"You do not know _everything_ about me," she told him.

He smirked at her. "I know enough, Princess. I know enough."

* * *

A/N: I've been in a "Johanna is a bitch" mood lately, IDK why lol. I've written a few FF lately where she's extra cruel to Effie, and I have to admit, IDT Effie is violent but it's nice to see her defend herself this way lol. I also don't think she would have wanted to make a scene, but my imagination ran wild. Sorry if she's too OOC in this


	261. Toasting

" _If you haven't already done it I would REALLY love a Hayffie wedding. Whether it be a secret one long before THG or a sweet one after MJ...your choice. It's just the one thing I've never seen done, although I haven't read a lot of Hayffie. Thank you." -Queen Regent Of The North._

 **THE TOASTING**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch made his way back into his bedroom, the cool blue hue of the early morning highlighting the fact that Effie had scooted over to his side of the bed. That meant at some point she'd woken up and realized that he was gone.

He slipped out of his shoes and took off his pants and shirt and slid into bed next to her, gently scooting her over in the process. She moaned softly as he attempted to cover himself, and then he pulled her to him, inhaling deeply. Then his lips were in her hair, until he realized he _needed_ her, so he moved her blonde waves aside and pressed a kiss to her neck.

She sighed softly and turned around to face him, his mouth seeking hers almost immediately. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around him. He lowered his hand between them, maneuvering around until he could slip inside of her.

She gasped softly, throwing her head back, and then let out a low, slow moan that matched the rhythm of his strokes. She met his thrusts with lazy ones of her own, softly whimpering when the occasion called for it. He gripped her a little tighter at the waist, pulling her closer so that he could rest his head against her forehead.

He deepened the angle, just enough to make her cry out, and she slid one leg over his waist as he started pumping faster. He slid one hand underneath her shirt to grip her breasts and wrapped the other hand around her neck, forcing her mouth to his and kissed her until they both came.

She threw her head back, crying out into the morning, until their hips stilled.

Her breathing was deep, her eyes closed, her arms around his neck, when she whispered, "I am okay. I am alive."

"I know," he whispered back, but it didn't stop him from pulling her away from his body so he could look at her. She was _fine_ , it was just another _stupid_ nightmare, they'd probably never really go away. She was okay.

"Where'd you go?" asked Effie.

"Just for a walk."

"I missed you." He _had_ been gone long enough to miss, he mused. "Sometimes I am afraid you will not come back." The admission was soft, and her voice was laced with guilt, as if she were ashamed to admit such a thing.

"I know the feeling. I feel the same way when you go back to the Capitol."

"The Capitol is not my _home_ , Haymitch. I do not want to be there. I go there to visit my mother because she is sick, but when she passes on…." She let the sentence hang for a few seconds. "Twelve is _home_."

He buried his face in her neck and rolled them over. " _You_ are home," he told her. Her breath caught in her throat and his lips found hers again. "I want home forever."

She could feel her heart pounding and she gently pushed him away to look at him. She searched his eyes for several moments until he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna have to spell it out, huh?" Effie just blinked. "I'm askin' you to marry me, Princess."

She just laid there, frozen, her body stiff. "Are you being serious?"

"Yah, I suppose I am. But I don't mean a stupid _wedding_ like your people have in the Capitol. I mean a simple Toasting, in Twelve. I know it ain't what you're used to but it's all I need."

Effie continued to stare at him. "Are you sure? You are upset, you had a nightmare and—"

Haymitch sighed dramatically, rolled off of her, and got out of bed, pulling his boxers back up. He headed next to the door and reached underneath the dresser and pulled out a small object. Effie sat up, resting on her knees and stared at the black velvet box in Haymitch's hand.

"I've been hiding this for a few months," he admitted. "I woulda hid it _in_ the dresser, except you do the laundry and woulda found it." So no, she realized, this was not a heat of the moment decision.

"May I see the ring?"

"Hell no," he snorted, putting it down and walking towards the bed. She grabbed him and pulled him to her. Her kiss left him searing and wanting more. "Is that a yes then?"

Her eyes were bright and she blinked rapidly. "Of course it is," she whispered.

* * *

She made him wait a whole week while she ordered him a ring. He told her he didn't need one but she insisted – she had waited _years_ to claim him as hers, and the opportunity had finally presented itself to her.

They made their rounds and told their friends, and the only one who seemed genuinely surprised was Katniss. Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline and she let out a startled, " _What_?" Peeta snorted and told them that it was about time in a voice that had Haymitch narrowing his eyes at the boy.

Johanna stayed silent over the phone for a good two minutes before finally slowly stating, "You're marrying your Escort…. Fucking weird," and then she hung up on him.

Annie was over the moon and claimed she was coming down. Haymitch tried to talk her out of it – he didn't want a big fuss, this moment was _private_ , and the people who had mattered most to him wouldn't be able to share this moment with him, so what was the point? But Annie had reminded him that he had been there at her wedding, and that she wouldn't miss his. His argument was lost, because when she mentioned Finnick there was no going against that.

Someone at some point had alerted Plutarch, and he had called wanting to send Cressida to Twelve to document the whole thing. Haymitch was about to hang up on him when Effie, in a rude move that surprised the hell out of him, snatched the phone out of his hand and spoke in her clipped, Capitol accent.

"Absolutely not," she declared. "I have spent enough of my life parading around in front of the camera being the Capitol's puppet. If I see one camera in this District Paylor herself won't be able to stop my wrath. Haymitch and I are _not_ for sale and Districts have rights now. Do _not_ make me go back to school and become a lawyer, I will end up _owning_ Panem once I'm done, are we clear?" She didn't even wait for Plutarch to answer, she just hung up.

Haymitch blinked at her for a few moments, and then—

"I am so in love with you."

It was a quiet admission, the first of its kind; it was the only thing she'd ever gotten from him in twenty-seven years besides a marriage proposal.

He couldn't _say_ it, not on purpose, but he thought he might try harder with the way she pounced on him at his slip up. The fact that the door probably wasn't locked and that they were in the kitchen, in front of the window no less, didn't seem to register in Effie's mind, she had him naked and _begging_ in ten seconds and she let him take it how he wanted to: hard, hot, and heavy, on top of the table.

"I don't want everybody witnessing our Toasting," Effie told him breathlessly afterwards. "I don't mind a ceremony afterwards – I am done _hiding_ , we've spent enough time doing that – but I want something just for us other than sex."

He planted a kiss on her shoulder. "Couldn't have said it better myself, Princess."

* * *

She made him dress up – because she was _still_ Effie, through and through. He was actually okay with it, he understood that some things would never change. He even shaved for her.

Their house was new enough – she'd seen to that, she'd redecorated everything and they'd only barely finished a few months ago. The toasting was literally the last touch, they were practically married and had been for years, really.

They built the fire together and toasted the bread. Effie stared at Haymitch for a few seconds.

"I wrote something," she confessed.

Haymitch snorted. " 'Course you did."

"It's traditional to exchange vows in the Capitol. I'm not sure if they do that in the Districts but it's okay if you don't have any. The ring is enough of a promise for me. I just wanted you to know that I vow to love you in sickness and health, through good and bad, through thick and thin, until death do us part. Marriage _means_ something to me. It always has, and it always will. I am yours, forever."

"I _do_ have vows to say." Effie smiled and Haymitch looked away from her for a moment. "I'm not perfect, Effie. I've never been perfect. You and I… we've had our differences, for sure." Now he looked at her. "But you… you changed me. Everything that was taken from me, you gave back tenfold. I didn't want it… I didn't want _you_. But you're here now, you're apart of me now, and I wouldn't have it any other way. If I could do it all over again, I'd still choose you."

Effie cleared her throat, and forgetting all about rules and the way things worked she wrapped her arms around Haymitch, kissing him furiously.

He took the kiss until they were breathless, and then gently pushed her away. "I think that was outta order, Princess." He pulled the ring out of his pocket and Effie placed hers on her lap.

The ring she got him was simple, nothing flashy, and he knew it had probably taken her hours to find something so plain, but it was perfect for him with its gold hue. It was a simple band for a simple man.

There was nothing simple about her ring: it was silver, because the color was close to his eyes and he knew she'd love it. There was a sparkling diamond in the shape of a Mockingjay that had Effie gasping.

"I think this is the time where you get to kiss your bride," Effie told him softly.

He didn't need telling twice.


	262. Strip

" _I had a thought well, prompt (in my Effie voice)... a Effie doing a striptease for Haymitch story or something along those lines lol, since Valentines day is coming up I've been listening to some music, Skin by Rihanna, Shamless by The Weeknd, Good For You by Selena Gomez, etc. (ya know to surprise my husband) and as I was listening to them I thought of Hayffie and what a fun story that will be. And once again. I love your stories!" –Ayamichan34_

 _For some reason I kept hearing Chris Brown's 'Strip'. NOT A SONG FIC, not even an inspiration, really._

 **STRIP**

 **Rated T**

Girl I just wanna see you strip, right now 'cause it's late babe  
Girl I just wanna see you strip, girl take your time with it  
Girl I just wanna see you strip damn you're sexy (for me)  
God damn you're sexy! (baby) damn you're sexy!  
Girl I just wanna see you

Haymitch stared at her with heavily lidded eyes, his breath catching in his throat.

It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing her strip in front of him.

She was _hot_.

Sexy.

He wasn't sure when it'd come to this – how it had gone from angry hate-you sex to I'm-lonely-sex to anytime, any place sex… to I can't get enough of you sex.

It'd been _years_ since they actually need an argument to pounce on each other. It'd been a few years since she started teasing him like this.

He never thought he'd be into things like strip teases. Get right to it and finish as quickly as possible used to be his motto.

It was different now.

She was proof of that, dressed in a red corset and matching lace panties. She'd had on a dress at some point. He'd ripped it off, along with her wig, and had demanded that she strip for him. He'd meant her makeup, she took it a whole step farther by stepping out of the bathroom with nothing more than lingerie and a pair of heels on.

Now she was in front of him, slowly reaching up to unpin her real her. She shook her strawberry blonde curls loose and they fell to her shoulders.

He smiled as she started dancing to the music. It was a gentle sway, enough to get his mouth watering.

Her nimble fingers – dainty enough to hold him when he was suffering from a particularly bad hangover, but deadly enough to claw at his back – started untying the strings of her front-facing corset.

Haymitch was positive it was the sexiest thing she owned, save for the red dress that zipped in the front that she wore to the Reaping this year. He took her so hard and so fast he wondered if that moment had been a figment of his drunk imagination.

He was definitely sober enough to remember this.

It was their agreement – if he didn't get piss face drunk at tonight's party, she'd give him a treat. He hadn't expected a strip tease but he was _not_ complaining.

He wanted very desperately to rip her clothes off of her, but there was something entirely too erotic about watching her slowly take off her clothes, switching her hips side to side as she slid her underwear down her legs.

With a small smile she stood before, naked as the day she was born, save for the heels on her feet.

Walking the walk that only she could, she made her way to the bed.

* * *

A/N: I struggled with this one when I wrote it. Deff not my fave but I hope you guys still enjoyed it.

Also, this is the last week I'll be posting every day. I'd like to go back to posting twice a week, but I'd like to know what days work best for yall. If you could leave in a Review that'd be great.

Lastly: PROMPTS please! Yall have come up with some great ones. Anymore ideas floating around in that Hayffie brain?


	263. Turned On

_So I'm OBSESSED with Ava and Ash, and I wanted to be realistic. I'm not a mother yet but I know for a fact a lot of women don't immediately get their libido back after giving birth. Also I think there would be an imbalance between juggling children and husband. Haymitch and Effie would have missed this stage with Ash figuring Haymitch lived in 12 and Effie lived in the Capitol, so this'll be Haymitch's first time experiencing the fact that Effie didn't want him. I didn't want to get into too much detail about all that. I just thought I'd touch on when they'd finally reunite. =) Story references Chap 161 "Crawling into Cribs"_

 **TURNED ON**

 **Rated M for… sexual relations LOL. Pretty graphic, FYI**

"I finally got Ava off to sleep," Effie said, coming down the stairs.

"Good. Ash has been asleep for about twenty minutes now." He stood up. "Do you want some warm tea? I know you're probably tired."

She was approaching him rather quickly, with a certain gleam in her eyes that had him wondering if he'd done something wrong. Was she mad at him again? Not that she was mad, mad at him. She was just insanely tired _all the time_ and was quick to snap on him because _he_ was the one responsible for her exhaustion. He'd made the mistake once of reminding her that she was the one who suggested having another child and he'd slept on the couch for a week straight.

"I do not want any damn tea, Haymitch," she said, and then she pushed him onto the couch, reaching behind her. He nearly flinched—she was crazy, that one—but then her dress fell on to the floor, along with her underwear, and suddenly he understood everything a lot clearer.

He felt himself instantly grow hard, because he hadn't seen her naked in _months_ , and he was trying to be patient, he really was, but it was damned difficult because he had the most beautiful and sexually active wife in all the world yet she wouldn't fucking touch him….

"My libido is back," said Effie throatily, and she climbed on top of him, her lips hot and heavy. His hands instantly ran up and down her back as he responded back to the kiss, his pants tight. He had to get out of them now.

He shifted her so that he could remove his pants, but she wasn't exactly making it easy with the way she was kissing him on his neck. His hands were shaking as he unbuckled his pants. One would think he'd be a pro at this by now, but damn he wanted her so badly it hurt.

She sunk down onto him the second his pants were down, and he cursed, his vision blurring. She hissed as she sat on him, pulling him close. His head rested in between her breasts and he breathed deeply, trying not to cum, because it'd been _that long_.

"I am sorry it has taken me so long," she told him softly, gently starting to move. "I know you have missed me. And I have certainly missed you."

"Have you?" panted Haymitch.

"Yes. God yes. So much." She kissed him. "I need you to pull out, okay? I am still breast feeding so I am not back on birth control yet." He grunted, acknowledging her statement as he closed his eyes, trying to remember how to breathe. "Do you hate me?"

His eyes snapped open and he looked at her. "What?"

"For neglecting you these past few months." She sped up even more and he clutched her waist.

"I don't hate you." How could he when she was riding him like this?

"It's been hard, balancing between you and the kids, but… I love you. I love you so much." She wrapped her arms around him and he cursed again. He loved when she talked like this.

"I know," he was able to moan out.

"God you feel so good. I almost forgot how amazing you feel inside of me." Her voice was breathy and it wasn't bloody helping.

"What in the hell bought all this on?" He thought if maybe he kept talking he'd last longer, because he was so close.

"You did." He looked at her. "Seeing you with Ava…." Her eyes actually blurred with tears. She was still overly emotional, so he gripped her tighter. "I never got to experience it. You, with a baby. You are so natural, Haymitch. I cannot believe you did not want children. She adores you, you know. Every time you hold her or rock her to sleep. The other day when I saw you in the crib…." She buried her face in his neck. "Let me tell you, there is nothing sexier than seeing you be a father."

"I'll take on all the responsibilities, from here on out. You just stay in our bed, butt naked." Effie laughed, and then it turned into a groan when he gripped her breasts. "I've missed _these_."

Effie rolled her eyes. He'd certainly taken even more of an interest in her breasts lately. They were fuller, and she wasn't sure how much smaller they'd get again. When his tongue flicked her nipple she came.

"Fuck," he hissed out, and he immediately picked her up. He'd never had to pull out of her before, though he got the general idea. He started to stroke himself to finish.

"Let me," said Effie, and then she was removing his hand and her mouth was on him.

He was either dead or dreaming, but there was no way this was real life. Johanna had laughed until she couldn't breathe when he had told her Effie was pregnant and said, "Welp, there goes your sex life." But she was wrong. Clearly wrong.

He saw stars and he cursed. When he hit the back of her throat he released, and he could do absolutely nothing to stop himself from jerking as she kept her mouth around him, and didn't relent for several moments. He let out a string of curse words until she lifted her head with a faint _pop_.

"Shit. _Shit_ ," he stuttered out, trying to get his bearings. The world was shaking. He searched around for Effie—because he couldn't see her—until he felt her, and he pulled her to him. "You're fucking amazing."

She hummed, her heartbeat still quick. "I am not quite done with you yet," said Effie in his ear, and he jerked again. "I have quite a few months to make up for I think."

"Five months, three weeks, and four days." Haymitch kissed her shoulder as she grinned.

At that moment they heard a pair of feet. Haymitch cursed and Effie immediately climbed off of him, grabbing her dress. She slipped into it so fast that Haymitch still wasn't done buckling his pants by the time she had slipped back on her clothes.

He'd barely gotten redressed before Ash was downstairs.

" _Why_ aren't you sleep?" groaned Haymitch. "Your mother and I were enjoying each other." Effie slapped Haymitch playfully.

"I wanna enjoy you too!"

Haymitch sighed and Effie ruffled Ash's hair. "It's bedtime, Ash. You know better. You are a big brother now. You have to set a good example, it is only proper."

Haymitch watched as Effie led Ash back upstairs, a grin on his face. God he loved them. He loved them _all_. When something hit him in the face he blinked, and slowly grabbed Effie's panties.

He looked up just in time to see her wink, and then he was up. Maybe he needed to meet _her_ in the room, butt ass naked.

By the time she climbed into bed, fresh out the shower, he was ready for her. She didn't even bother to get dressed. She just climbed in and slid on top of him, gasping in surprise when she felt how hard he was.

Guess she wasn't the only one who was turned on.

* * *

A/N: This was super old. I may have miscounted how many "old" stories I have, but we are winding down. Funnily enough I'm still obsessed with Ash, Ava, and Ember.

Still asking for more prompts, and if yall can tell me which days work best for me to post twice a week, that'd be great. Leave em in a Review.


	264. Tennessee Whiskey

_Not a song fic, but this song is so Haymitch it's not even funny. KeKe Wyatt's cover inspired this one-shot, though the original is lovely. If you haven't heard it, enlighten yourself. : )_

 **TENNESSEE WHISKEY**

 **Rated T**

 _I used to spend my nights out in a barroom  
Liquor was the only love I've known  
But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom  
And brought me back from being too far gone_

 _You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey  
You're as sweet as strawberry wine  
You're as warm as a glass of brandy  
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time_

 _I've looked for love in all the same old places  
Found the bottom of a bottle always dry  
But when you poured out your heart I didn't waste it  
'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high_

Alcohol had always been his poison of choice. It was convenient, easy to access, and it numbed the pain.

And the pain could use a little bit of numbing.

It hadn't taken him all that long to start depending on the alcohol. By the time his Victory Tour had come around he'd developed a tolerance for the good stuff. It hadn't taken him long to realize that alcohol numbed the pain better than anything.

It helped him forget his Games.

The faces of the people he'd killed.

The faces of the people he'd _loved_.

His mom.

His brother.

His girl.

Haymitch wasn't sure how long it'd taken him to become _this_. This unrecognizable shell of a man with the hallow cheeks, dark eyes, and permanent scowl. It was gradual, and kind of hazy. One day it was just one drink, then it was one bottle, and then it was… this.

He _hated_ this man, but he didn't know who else to be and he didn't know _how_ else to be.

When it hit him that there was something – some _one_ – more addicting than his liquor, he used more liquor to cover it up, to convince himself that he hadn't let anyone in, because that would be _stupid_ , and Haymitch hadn't stayed alive all this time to be _stupid_.

He was cruel, and rude, and uncouth, because it was better than getting close. He kept himself detached even as his body became attached, he hurt her more often than not, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit, not that he was admitting _anything_.

Even when it went from once a year to once a week to once a day to _all the fucking time_.

Even when he had a choice between going to the bar cart of fucking her _one more time_. When he chose staying in as opposed to going out with Chaff, or Finnick, or Jo, or Seeder. When he could leave a bottle half empty so that he could fill her up instead.

And be filled in return.

Even when he could have gotten up, out of her bed, but didn't.

Couldn't.

 _Wouldn't_.

By the time he realized he was in deep shit, he was in way over his head, and by that time he was drinking all year to help pass the time before he'd meet up with her again.

When he couldn't remember the last time he'd really thought about his girl, when it hit him that it had had been _years_ before, years and years and years ago, when the first time he'd cautiously thought about his girl was in Thirteen when talking to Katniss Everdeen of all people, when every nightmare he had during Detox involved _Effie Trinket_ , Haymitch knew he'd done a piss poor job of not falling for her.

Like his liquor, he didn't even know how or when it'd even happened. She was just _there_ one day, etched into his brain, into his desires, into his _heart_ , and damn it all to hell if he didn't want to just end it all when he'd found her battered, broken, and bruised in the Capitol.

Another woman, destroyed, because of him.

He had never fought for himself this hard. He wasn't even sure he'd fought for Katniss this hard. He damn sure hadn't fought for Peeta this hard. He just knew he'd been up for hours and hours and Effie _still_ hadn't woken up, so he drank to numb the pain, only he figured he was probably _finally_ broken, beyond repair, utterly demolished.

Haymitch thought of Effie, the old Effie – _his_ old Effie, and wasn't it a bitch to finally think of her as his when she was so close to being gone?

Effie Trinket.

Smooth as Tennessee Whiskey, in the way she snuck up on him, seemingly out of the bloody blue.

Sweet as the strawberry wine she used to favor, before it all went to shit.

Warm as the darkest brandy.

And when she showed up on his doorstep, a year after the war, he didn't have as hard of a time as he thought he would, staying sober.

He stayed stoned on her love all of the time.


	265. Small Mercies

_Warning: this one's kind of dark. Date-rape drug like substance mentioned. Might be a trigger._

 **SMALL MERCIES**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch noticed the way the man quickly slid his arms around Effie's waist, his body jerking just enough for Haymitch to pay close attention.

He frowned when the man plastered on a smile, hugging Effie close and burying his face in her neck, planting a kiss along her throat.

He waited for it, waited for his Escort to slap the man away, whether it be for fun or if she was really irritated, forcing Haymitch to step in. She was flirty, his Escort, but she did _not_ do PDA, and certainly not during the Games when there were Sponsors around.

Effie _did_ move, she put her hand on his chest, but it was sluggish.

It was off, enough for Haymitch to narrow his eyes as he watched them.

The Capitol laughed, pulling away from her, his arm still around Effie's waist. They headed towards the exit.

Haymitch scowled, and then dread worked its way through his stomach as he noticed his Escort stumbling.

Effie didn't _stumble_.

He'd be very surprised if she was drunk. Effie normally left that to him, she didn't particularly care for hard alcohol, and it made her vulnerable. She was nowhere near as good as hiding herself when she was drunk, so Haymitch knew, he _knew_ something was wrong.

"Haymitch? What is it? You're tense." Haymitch didn't immediately answer Chaff. He just sat his drink down against the bar and watched. "What, you lookin' at Trinket?"

"What do you see?" asked Haymitch, never taking his eyes off of them.

Chaff shrugged, taking a drink. "Looks like your Escort's about to get laid." At the sound of that Finnick perked up, looking in the crowd for Effie.

Haymitch wouldn't look at Chaff, but he lowered his voice. "Look like a _Rebel_."

Chaff stared at Haymitch for a few seconds, his eyes sliding to Finnick, who shrugged, and then Chaff rested his eyes on Effie and the man with her. "Is she drunk?" Haymitch remained silent, afraid to influence his best friend. He waited until Chaff slowly put down his own drink, stiffening beside him.

That was all Haymitch needed.

"Haymitch, don't do anything stupid," hissed Chaff.

Haymitch ignored him.

He met them when they were a few feet away from the exit. He stepped in front of them, barely aware that Finnick and Chaff were next to him.

"Going somewhere?" snarled Haymitch.

The Capitol slid in front of Effie. "Miss Trinket and I were just about to have a nightcap," he said, his Capitol accent thick.

 _Old money_ , thought Haymitch.

"Effie and I still have a Sponsor to talk to," stated Haymitch.

The Capitol man smiled, and Haymitch felt his entire back go up. "Not anymore. Move aside, please."

Haymitch did move aside, passed him and to Effie. She took a few moments to look up at him, and when he did, his stomach lurched. Her eyes were glassy – not with drink but with something else, they were much too bright, her pupils large.

She swayed.

Haymitch caught her, forcing her to look up at him. "Princess? What did you take? What'd you have?"

She was confused, he could tell. Her head went sideways, her eyebrows drawing together. "Take?"

"Drugs. What drugs did you take?"

The Games had started off badly, their Tributes had died less than fifteen seconds in, but they had had worse. She had left the Penthouse upset, but not like she was about to do anything _stupid_. Her eyes were unfocused, her cheeks spotty, her neck red.

"Effie, what did you _take_?"

"I didn't take _anything_ ," she stated. She frowned, leaning into him. "Haymitch, I do not feel good."

Finnick was there a second later, and without even communicating with Haymitch, gently grabbed Effie away from him. Haymitch's first instinct was to protect, but Finnick shot him one look and Haymitch swallowed his retort.

"Effie, look at me."

It took a lot of effort but Effie finally looked at Finnick, swaying slightly. "Finni," she whispered, her words slurred.

"Effie, tell me what you're feeling?"

She licked her lips, her eyes rolling. "Hot. I am so _hot_. But I feel _really good_. My body is tingling." Her voice dropped a few octaves, and she giggled. "I feel… soft. _Alive_." She touched herself, her neck, her hands traveling down, and Finnick gently grabbed her arms. "What would you like to do?" She wrapped her arms around him. "I will do _anything_ for you."

"He gave her Exotica."

"What the _fuck_ is that?" Haymitch asked, his heart pounding.

"Think Ecstasy." Haymitch looked at Finnick. " _Trust me_ , I know the side effects."

Haymitch spun around, staring at the man. He seemed unbothered. "I have no idea what's wrong with her."

Haymitch didn't remember moving, nor did he remember palming the man's face and slamming him to the floor. Haymitch was pretty sure he'd cracked the man's skull. Haymitch stood over him, his fist connecting with the side of the man's face, over and over again.

He was unaware that it was Peacekeepers who dragged him away.

…

When Effie woke up she woke up to sunlight on her face. She had _never_ woken up to sunlight on her face during the Games before, so she understood it was later than usual.

She tried to sit up but she felt discombobulated.

"Easy there, Trinket," and Effie yelped, noticing Chaff sitting against the wall, a drink in his hand.

" _Chaff_! What are you doing in my bedroom?" The room spun as she sat up and she fought the wave of dizziness.

"I was put on guard duty," he explained, as if that explained _anything_.

" _What_ does that mean?"

Chaff sighed and stood up, and she realized how _bad_ he looked. "How're you feelin', Trinket?"

"How…." As soon as she made to ask snippets of last night flashed through her mind. "Last night… what happened last night?"

"Some asshole incompetent of getting laid on his own spiked your drink."

"Spiked my…." Effie saw flashes of it, and felt her heart speed up. She remembered Finnick. She vaguely remembered _coming on to him_. "Where is Finnick?" She started to get out of bed, mortified.

"He's on assignment," Chaff said, and Effie stilled, knowing what he meant. "He was here first, but he had to go early this morning. She's a regular. But no one wanted you to be alone, so you got me." He tried to give her his most charming smiled, but it came out as a weak grimace. For the first time she noted how _tired_ he looked.

"And Haymitch? Where is Haymitch?" She would have expected him over Finnick or Chaff.

"Haymitch is still in jail."

And then she remembered, Haymitch, standing over Julian, and she paled considerably.

" _Jail_?" She felt lightheaded. "For how long?"

"I don't know. They wouldn't let me bail him out. I told them they could have _all_ my Winnings, but they wouldn't let me bail him out." He took a large gulp of his drink. "Finnick even offered…." His voice trailed and he grimaced again, taking another mouthful.

"Did he kill him?" whispered Effie.

Chaff sighed heavily. "Last I heard he was in a coma. It serves the _bastard_ right." Effie started to head towards the door. "Where are you goin'?"

"If they think," Effie said, her voice filled with rage, "for _one second_ ," her voice was getting louder, "they can keep _my Mentor_ ," Chaff cringed at her voice, "in _jail_ , they have never felt the wrath of Effie Trinket."

"Calm down, Princess, I'm right here."

Effie gasped and _ran_ to him, engulfing him in a hug. It took him a few seconds but his arms slowly wrapped around him.

"Are you all right?" She pushed him away. "Did he hurt you? Did _they_ hurt you?" She was checking him for bruises, checking his face and his arms.

"I'm fine," he told her, but he wasn't really looking at her. "Where's Finnick?"

"He got a call," shrugged Chaff. "I took over for him." Haymitch nodded, and Chaff approached him. "Are you sure you're okay, Mate?" Haymitch rubbed his hands over his face.

"I'm good. Need a _fucking_ drink. And a shower. And to get the _fuck_ out of the Capitol. But I'm good."

The two shared a couple of secret code messages with their eyes, and then Chaff handed Haymitch his glass. Haymitch threw it back immediately, and then made his way to Effie's room.

She followed him, noting how tense he was. He immediately went to her bar, pouring himself another drink. He didn't say anything, but she could _feel_ the tension.

He finally turned to her, and he looked like he'd aged a million years over night. He slowly approached her, looking her over, his eyes taking in everything about her: the still crooked wig, the slightly red skin, the cracks in her face due to the day-old makeup.

He held the drink in his hand, but didn't take a drink.

She wasn't surprised, but she still flinched, when he threw the glass at the wall.

"I am all right," she told him.

"What if I hadn't been there? What if I hadn't gone to the party, or had decided to ditch it with Chaff and Finnick. I could have. We were talking about it. What would've happened then? I'd have come back here and you probably wouldn't have even _told_ me. You would have tried to keep it from me, because I _would_ have killed him. I _could_ have killed him. I _should_ have. They wouldn't release me because I _told_ them, I told them if they did I'd find him and kill him."

Effie paled. "Did you?"

"No. No, because you would never forgive me. You're _Capitol_ , so I can fucking kill kids in an Arena and it's okay, but doing so at a party is against the law."

She recoiled from him, and he saw her, he saw her sweep the room for a place to escape, saw when her eyes settled on the bathroom door, and made her way there, slamming it.

" _Fuck_ ," he spat. He made his way to the door. He could hear her sobs. He palmed the door, resting his head against it. "Effie…." He took a deep breath, sliding down the door.

She didn't come out for _hours_.

She gasped when she tripped over him, clearly not expecting him to be there and waking him up out of his slumber. He reached out and grabbed her, saving her from the fall, and noted she was dressed in her towel. When it was clear she wasn't about to break her neck he pulled her down so that she was on his lap.

"Haymitch I am not—"

"Shut up. I'd kiss you but I'm not sure that's a good thing right now. I'm pissed off, but not at you. I'm pissed 'cause I can't give that asshole what he _fucking_ deserves for putting his hands on you and _drugging_ you. I ain't mad at you. I'm mad at the whole system, that they're fighting for his life, but there's a kid that's gonna die of starvation in two days. For a _fucking_ television show."

"I know," she whispered.

"Tell me the truth, Effie: are you okay?"

Effie took a deep breath. "I am scared. I am scared because you might not have been here. I am scared that Julian will die, and it will come down on you. I am scared that you will forever think this is your fault, which is utterly ridiculous. But I am _not_ a damsel in distress. I will contact my Uncle, he is a big-time lawyer, he will handle this. This _will_ be handled."

"I wish _I_ could handle it," said Haymitch darkly. Effie remained quiet. "I _would_ kill him. If it wouldn't cost you your life… I'd slit his _fucking_ throat. Snow would not kill me, though. He'd take you. And I won't let that happen."

Effie sighed, resting her head against his chest. "Thank you," said Effie softly.

He didn't respond, just dug his nails into her hips. He _would_ have killed Julian, and he'd have deserved it. But she was safe. Effie was safe.

Haymitch thanked the God that he didn't believe in for small mercies.

* * *

A/N: GUYS! I'm going to see Janet Jackson tonight! I'M SO HYPED! :)


	266. Inspiration

Wale has this quote where he says, "Some women are for decoration, and some women are for inspiration." IDK why that reminded me of Effie.

 **INSPIRATION**

 **Rated T**

There was a faint beeping that finally lulled Effie awake. She slowly blinked open her eyes, astonished at how much it hurt. _Everything_ hurt. She thought it might be easier to succumb back under, where the pain didn't exist, where _she_ didn't exist.

The soft snore next to her had her turning her head and her heart stopping.

 _Haymitch_.

Haymitch, right next to her, his hand clasped in hers, his head facedown on the bed as if he'd finally just _dropped_.

She could smell alcohol.

Before Effie could say anything, a door opened. She stiffened at the person approaching her, her heartbeat speeding up, and she felt her breath becoming sporadic.

"Easy, Miss," whispered the woman. "You're safe now." Her voice was low, and had a hint of warmth in it that Effie hadn't remembered hearing in _months_. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, but I don't want you to overdo it. Your voice is probably a little damaged, and I don't want to wake your husband. He's been here every single day for the past week and hasn't left your side once."

 _Husband_? Effie glanced at Haymitch, her heart beating even faster.

"I just have a few questions for you," the woman continued. "Do you know your name?"

Effie opened her mouth but nothing came out. She gently cleared her throat and tried again. "Effie. Effie Trinket."

The woman smiled. "Good. Do you know where you are?"

Effie looked around, taking in the machines and the fact that she was in a bed. "The hospital?"

She nodded. "Good. That's good. I'm Nurse Jackie, but all my friends call me Jack." _That_ was a weird name if Effie ever heard one. "Would you like to be my friend?"

Effie wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of _anything_ anymore.

" _I_ would like for us to be friends," she said, marking some things off of her checklist. "But you have to get better first. I don't think your husband will take too kindly to you not making it out of here."

Effie's eyes went back to Haymitch's sleeping form. She wanted to reach out to him, feel him, touch him, hold him.

"I'm sure you want to talk to him, but he's out of it. He was awake for _days_. Plutarch Heavensbee asked me to slip some sleep syrup into his alcohol." Effie felt her heart constrict. "Not a lot," the nurse assured Effie, clearly seeing the panic on Effie's face. "But he wasn't well. He'll be fine by morning. Now I'm sure you're in a lot of pain, so let's get you some medicine."

Effie didn't want medicine. She didn't know this woman. It was probably a trick, it was all a trick, but Effie found she couldn't _move_.

She tried to scream when Nurse Jackie stuck her with a needle, but she couldn't. She was frozen, paralyzed, and soon, before long, the world went black again.

…

When she woke back up it was sunlight, and she could hear voices.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I _will_ kill you, Plutarch."

"It was the only option, Haymitch, the hospital said either you sleep, or you would get thrown out. You were talking crazy to the nurses, snapping at everybody—"

"I don't trust _anyone_ with Effie, not the Capitol, not the Rebels—"

"She is not your responsibility—"

"Like hell she isn't." The growl in Haymitch's throat had Effie wanting to reach out for him. She could barely make them out, they were both blobs near the door, but she could tell Haymitch was pissed.

"She isn't _only_ your responsibility," amended Plutarch. "Nurse Jackie is one of our top nurses, she's taking good care of Effie. But you weren't helping, you were belligerent, you were rude, you threatened the staff—"

"I don't give a _fuck_ , you had no right to slip me sleep syrup."

"Do you or do you not feel better?"

Effie waited until her eyes adjusted, and with the little strength she had, she called out for Haymitch. She wasn't sure she heard him, except he was next to her in a second.

" _Effie_." The way he said her name had tears springing to her eyes, only she wasn't one hundred percent sure why. She could just _feel_ the relief pouring out of him. "Hi, Princess."

His hands were in her hair and he was hovering over her, his eyes… _lost_.

"Haymitch."

"I'm here, Princess. I'm here." His lips were on her forehead, chapped but pleasurable nonetheless.

"Haymitch, the children?"

"Katniss and Peeta are alive," he told her. Then, a brief hesitation. Effie felt her heart slow down. "Prim and Finnick…."

Her heart beat traitorously in her chest, its beat speeding up even faster as proof that _she_ was alive when _Finnick_ …. She gripped Haymitch, tightly, as her throat closed.

She felt the tears but surprisingly they did not fall. They would come, she knew. The tears would come. Prim, so young, so innocent, and Finnick… _Finnick_.

"I know," whispered Haymitch, and he _would_ know. If anyone knew, it was him. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry we left you. You were supposed to be _safe_. You were supposed to be untouchable. You're _fucking_ Effie Trinket."

Neither of them noticed Plutarch leaving.

"No one is safe," she tells him. "I was too close to you."

"I _tried_ to stop this from happening. This was exactly why I tried not to—" He stopped and sighed. "I wasn't as clever as I thought I was. He knew. Snow _always_ knew."

Effie gripped his wrist and made him look at her. "I didn't tell them _anything_."

"You didn't know shit to tell."

"I knew enough," she stated. She licked her lips. "I knew enough about Thirteen… little bits and pieces that I would overhear. I told them _nothing_. Everyone was supposed to _live_. What was the point?"

Haymitch sighed. "I know it doesn't seem fair."

" _Nothing_ seems fair. It _hurts_. This was supposed to be _worth it_."

Haymitch placed another kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry."

She frowned at his apology. "I feel lost."

"Me too. You should have seen me when I found out you were missing. I lost my shit, Princess. I was _sick_. I vowed if I ever found you I'd ask you why. _Why_ did you put yourself in this situation? The tokens? The Mockingjay wig? _Falling_ for me?"

Effie did not respond for a long time. When she did, she spoke softly. "Growing up Mother used to have a saying: 'Some women are for decoration. And some women are for inspiration.' Mother thought being a decoration… being _pretty_ was enough. She _is_ the prettiest. Out of all the women my father could have had – and still has, despite his marriage – Cleara Trinket is the fairest of them all. Being some man's _prize_ was all my mother ever wanted for herself, or for her only daughter. I have never seen my mother happier than the day I became engaged to Seneca."

Effie let a low, bitter laugh that broke Haymitch's heart.

"I did not want to be some man's _trophy wife_ , Haymitch. I did not want to be _bought_ , I didn't want to be told what to eat, when to eat it, what to wear, how to wear it…. I had spent most of my life doing that, modeling, and pageants and competitions and award shows and red carpets…. I do not think my mother was ever more disappointed than the day I stopped modeling. But I wanted to make a _difference_. It was more than wanting fame, I wanted… I wanted to do _good_. I do not know if I thought being an Escort would help me get there…."

She shrugged, closing her eyes for a moment. "You… you showed me the _real_ world. The Capitol was everything I feared it was. When I found out about what happened to you…." Haymitch shifted, but she carried on. "It was _devastating_. You were a _Victor_ , you were supposed to live happily ever after…. And I started opening my eyes, and… Finnick." She felt her eyes burn with tears but she blinked them back. "Him, having to prostitute himself at eighteen, I…. A part of me was _so_ lost, I just wanted things to be different. And you, and Chaff, and Seeder, even Mags… you were not as conspicuous as you thought you were. So I started listening harder, and watching longer, because I wanted _in_. I did not want to be decoration. I wanted to be inspiration."

She looked at Haymitch, her eyes showing a fierceness she didn't feel. "When they kill me, tell them my story."

Haymitch stiffened. "They are _not_ going to kill you."

"They've already tried," smiled Effie ironically. "The Capitol hates me, the Rebels hate me…." She shrugged. "It is deserved. But they should know. They _should_ know. Promise me you will tell them."

"I'm not promising you _shit_ ," he snapped. "You can write your own fucking story, yah? You don't get to _die_ Princess. I didn't find you so you can just _die_. You'll come back to Twelve with me, you wanna write a book, _fine_ , but you're not dying, Princess. At least not for a long, long time, when we're both old and grey."

She didn't believe him, he could tell, but he believed himself.

Up until she refused to come back to Twelve with him.

When she finally made her way back to Twelve, and she'd stepped foot in his home, she looked around, her mouth open. Curtains, the same yellow as her hair. Walls, the same blue as her eyes. Cherry blossoms on the mantle, and on top of the coffee table. Mahogany floors.

There were geese honking outside when she arrived. He was feeding them, with what looked like bread.

His hair was longer than ever, he had a five o'clock shadow, the shirt he wore was old but not _terrible_.

He looked _good_.

The gold bangle, tattered and bruised, hung on his wrist.

The pink suitcase fell to the ground with a thud, startling him. He spun around and then his mouth sprung open. He took her in, looking over every inch of her with grey eyes that brightened with surprise.

"Well it took you long enough," he snapped, and then he turned back around and continued feeding the geese.

She felt herself smile, and at this point it was such a foreign feeling that her cheeks hurt. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying his face in his back. He smelled like alcohol, proof that he was still drinking, but he wasn't drunk.

"You changed the house," whispered Effie.

"Thought it could use some cleaning, for when you came back. I _knew_ you would come. You _had_ to come." He turned around, cupping her cheeks. "What took you so long?"

"I have no idea," she breathed, kissing him. "The house is beautiful."

" _You're_ beautiful," said Haymitch. "You were the inspiration. You're always the inspiration. You've _always_ inspired me."

Effie choked out a sob. "That's all I've ever wanted."

He kissed her again, and carried her home.

* * *

A/N: Wrote this a few weeks ago. I'd like to dedicate this to those souls brave enough to #takeaknee when it would be easier to be silent/quiet. Continue to fight injustices.


	267. A Hundred Lifetimes

" _I didn't know what your prompt status was, but I do have one for you._ _  
_ _I caught a rerun of the first movie the other night and I was struck by how Haymitch delivers the now famous line "You know, you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him." It seemed like he was speaking from a place of experience. So, I thought what if someone had said the same thing to him about Effie years ago? Perhaps that's what pushes him to acknowledge what their relationship really means as opposed to what he takes it for granted as." –karmicsamadi86_

Changed it to book!verse

 **A HUNDRED LIFETIMES**

 **Rated T**

Chaff found Haymitch at the bar, pouting, a drink in his hand. Without saying a word Chaff sat down next to his best friend and got the bartender's attention, ordering himself a double and two more doubles for his friend. Neither of them said anything until the bartender served them their drinks. Raising his glass to the bartender Chaff finished his off while Haymitch grabbed one of his and threw it back.

"You wanna talk about it?" asked Chaff.

"Ain't _shit_ to talk about," Haymitch snapped.

Chaff didn't comment. He just signaled for another drink, and the bartender appeared, almost immediately, handing Chaff another drink.

"Keep them coming," said Chaff, and the bartender nodded. After a few more minutes of silence Chaff turned back to Haymitch. "You know she'll never really marry Crane."

"Does it _fucking_ matter?"

"Seems like it does to you."

"Well, it doesn't."

"Why can't you just admit it?"

"Admit _what_ , exactly?" snarled Haymitch, taking another drink.

"You know what, mate."

"I don't have to admit anything." Haymitch threw back another drink, his hands shaking.

Chaff sighed and leaned closer to Haymitch. "Look, you can lie to me all you want, but stop lying to yourself. You're pissed that your Escort's engaged to another man because you've been screwing her brains out for the past several years, and at some point you've fallen for her. We all know it. No one even cares anymore. You two are old news."

"Well I guess everyone didn't get the memo."

"Can you really blame Trinket?" Haymitch glared at Chaff. "It's true. You treat her like shit. If you knew half the shit she does for you… for _us_ … maybe you'd have been a little nicer to her."

" _You're_ the one that gives me shit for screwing a Capitol."

"Effie's not exactly Capitol, Mate."

Haymitch snorted, throwing back another drink. "She's engaged to Seneca Crane. She's _definitely_ all Capitol."

"She was. And then she changed. You changed her, up until you threw your hissy fit last year."

Haymitch finally looked at Chaff. "You're sayin' this is my fault?"

"I'm saying you pushed her away by telling her she was at fault because she picked the names, that she was right up there with Snow, when we know damn well Effie is _different_. You were upset that your Tributes died, you had too much to drink, and you went and took out all your anger on Trinket, who didn't deserve it, because if it weren't for her your Tributes would have died two seconds in. _She_ got them Sponsors, _she_ does _your_ job, and without her… without her, Haymitch, you _fail_." Chaff stared at his best friend. "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve her, Haymitch, Capitol or not."

With those words Chaff stood up and disappeared, Haymitch following him with his eyes until he was gone.

Haymitch swallowed back another shot as he realized his best friend was right. He _could_ live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve someone like Effie.

He supposed he'd just have to live with that.


	268. Planting Flowers

**PLANTING FLOWERS**

 **Rated T**

Effie dug into the earth, the sun beaming on her back. The weather was perfect today, it was warm but there was a soft breeze that Effie found refreshing. She dug her hole, then planted the primroses inside and covered them up, moving on to the next row.

She was so caught up she didn't immediately notice the shadow over her until he called her name. She jumped slightly and turned around, then smiled.

"Peeta Mellark. To what do I owe such a pleasant surprise?"

"Hey, Effie," smiled Peeta. "Can I help?"

He wanted something, Effie thought.

She nodded and motioned for him to plant across from her. They worked in silence for several moments, the two of them developing a nice rhythm together. Peeta was good, he had clearly developed a rhythm from planting his own garden.

Effie had never had much of a green thumb, at least she didn't think she did. But she had found gardening to be therapeutic and relaxing. She might not be amazing but she wasn't terrible, and flowers helped her.

They _healed_.

She knew that better than anyone, now.

Effie wiped her brow, taking a deep breath. She liked gardening, but it could be hard work. She reached for her water bottle and took a swig, offering Peeta some. He shook his head, but she noted the way he took in her every move, his eyes taking in everything about her.

"So where's Haymitch?" asked Peeta.

"He is asleep on the couch," Effie told him. "He had a bad night, and when I came downstairs from cleaning upstairs, he was sound asleep. I was afraid to disturb him so I came out here to plant these primroses since I have been meaning to for a few weeks. The weather permitted me to do so, so here I am." She shrugged good-naturedly, a polite smile still on her face, but she noticed the way he continued to stare at her. "Is everything all right, Peeta?"

He shook his head and blushed, clearly embarrassed at being caught. "Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay."

"Why would I not be?"

Peeta shrugged, but she knew there was a reason he was asking. "I just… I mean you haven't been back that long, and I just wanted to make sure you were good. We haven't had a lot of time to talk since you've been back."

He wasn't wrong, she realized. She'd been back for about six months, and up until recently she had stayed in Haymitch's house, hiding not just from the kids but from civilization itself. She had more bad days than good days and Haymitch told the kids she was suffering from headaches to stop them from seeing her at her worst. The nightmares were horrible and most days she just stared at the wall, reliving those days in the cell.

Until recently, life had been pretty _bad_ , but she was getting better.

"I know I have been distant," admitted Effie quietly, choosing her words carefully. "I apologize for that."

"It's not just that," Peeta stated, and she could see the way he was hesitating. Effie tried her best to remain patient. "Katniss and I were talking the other day and we were just thinking – really, more so wondering – if maybe you wouldn't be more comfortable staying with us?"

Effie leaned back and studied Peeta. He was really growing into a handsome boy – young man, she had to remind herself. His hair was shockingly blonde, much like the dandelions that sprouted up around Victors Village. His eyes were as blue as hers, maybe a hair shade lighter. His skin was tan, his shoulders broader than she remembered.

He was an adult now, an adult capable of reaching his own conclusions and having his own concerns.

"Why would you two think that I should stay with you?"

Peeta sighed, dusting off his hands. "You aren't going to make this easy, are you?" Effie just stared at him. "Katniss and I can hear you two, you know. The way you two yell and scream and argue. Haymitch is…." Peeta's voice trailed, and then he sighed. "I just want to make sure you're okay enough to deal with everything Haymitch is."

Effie frowned, and found herself reaching for her water bottle just to give her something to do.

"Haymitch and I drive each other crazy," Effie admitted softly. "But he would never hurt me. You know that, right? Haymitch would _never_ hurt me."

"Maybe not physically…." Effie's eyebrows shot up. "Look, I was there, remember? I heard the names they called you in that cell." Effie's back went up. "They used Haymitch against you because you cared about him. I myself saw the way you used to look at him. You're talking to the boy who'd loved Katniss Everdeen since we were five years old. You think _I_ don't know what unrequited love looks like? Even worse, you think I don't recognize when someone _does_ love you, but they're too afraid to admit it?"

"Peeta—"

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Effie. Please, you have to understand." He cringed, and then looked away. "I still dream about your screams. Not often, but…. Johanna does too. You guys shared a cell, and she dreams about you all the time, she told me so. I just…" Peeta sighed heavily. "Haymitch isn't a bad person. I _know_ that. I guess I just would like some reassurance that you really _are_ okay."

Effie took a drink, this one longer than the last, before answering Peeta.

"I have known Haymitch for over twenty years now," Effie told Peeta softly. "I became his Escort during the 55th Hunger Game. I have never known any man longer. We have grown up together. I was but eighteen when I first became his Escort – and I assume you can do math, so I trust you will keep my _real_ age _quiet_." That got a soft smile out of Peeta. "Anyway, Haymitch and I have hated each other. We have hurt each other. We have hurt each other. We have tolerated each other. We have learned each other We have understood each other. We have even respected each other. And somewhere along the way, we have loved each other."

Effie sighed softly, running her fingers through her growing hair. "Our lives have been complicated, I will not deny that. There have been tears, there have bene lies, and there have been disagreements. We have grieved differently, we have coped differently, and we have healed differently. But I do not doubt for one minute that _this_ is where I belong."

Peeta started to interrupt but Effie continued on.

"It is not for _you_ to understand. Do you think you are the only one with questions? Hell, Johanna hates it. She _hates_ it, and she has _always_ hated it. She saw it way before Haymitch had. They _all_ did: Chaff, Finnick, Mags, Seeder. These were our _friends_ , people we cared for. Haymitch and I were the Capitol's biggest open secret, and despite the fact that we knew it was dangerous, we could not help ourselves. I certainly could not. I tried." Effie rolled her eyes. "It is _impossible_ to hide my feelings from that man. He knows me better than I know myself. It was difficult to come to grips with the fact that he was right when he asked me to come to Twelve. I should have come, I spent a year of my life _wasting away alone_ in the Capitol when I could have been _here_ , healing."

" _Are_ you healing, though?" asked Peeta. "If Katniss and I can hear you two arguing do you think we don't hear your screams when you have nightmares? Do you think _I_ don't recognize your screams? You've been here for six months and I can count on one hand the amount of times you've left the house, _including_ today."

Effie cringed. "That has been _my_ choice. Haymitch _wants_ me to leave, but I can _not_. I am not ready for _that_. Haymitch is being very patient—"

"What choice does he have when he's passed out drunk most of the time?"

Effie glared at Peeta. "You will _not_ talk about our Mentor like that."

The coldness of her voice had Peeta grimacing. "I didn't mean… I wasn't _judging_."

"Really? Because it certainly sounded like it."

"You aren't his Escort anymore," Peeta reminded her.

"He is my Mentor the same way he is yours. You are alive because of every sacrifice that man has made. _We_ are here because of _him_ , Peeta."

"I _know_ that," snapped Peeta. He sighed, rubbing his face. "This is coming out wrong. I love Haymitch, he's like a father to me, and since my own died in that bombing he's the only dad I have. But Haymitch… he's not _well_ , Effie, and he can't help you if he can't help himself."

"He is _trying_ , Peeta." He looked skeptical, so Effie closed her eyes and sighed. "Haymitch had a bad night because he is going through withdrawals."

Peeta stared at Effie, stunned. "I… I didn't know."

"He didn't want to tell you and Katniss because he does not want you two be disappointed. But he _is_ trying. He _is_. I am so _proud_ of him. And really all he wants is for you two to be proud of him, too."

"We are. Katniss and I—"

"I understand your concern for me. I can understand how it might look. Haymitch and I _do_ fight about everything. We always have, and we always will."

It was what made the sex so good, she was sure of it. They had so much passion between them, both good and bad. They were both hot-headed, and always thought they were right, they were pig-headed and stubborn, but lately… _finally_ it was _working_.

"It is the way we communicate. But we are adults and we have both made it very clear on where we stand with each other. I _do_ love him. Very much. And I am here because he loves me too."

Peeta didn't look entirely convinced, so Effie sighed, standing up. She motioned for Peeta to follow her, so he stood up as well, brushing the dirt off of his pants. They made their way to the backyard, opening the gate.

"When is the last time you have been back here?" asked Effie.

"Katniss and I try to avoid it," Peeta admitted. "Ever since he got the geese…."

"You two hate them as well?"

"Well, they smell. And they're _loud_. Katniss swears she wants to eat them."

Effie laughed as she rounded the corner, and she felt Peeta jerk beside her.

"It is quite a sight, right?" asked Effie quietly.

The two looked out at the transformed backyard. Aside from the newly painted pin for the geese, the entire background was full of flowers. All types of flowers, of every color imaginable, all of them blossoming proudly. Just rows and rows of flowers, the scent perfuming the air.

"Wow," Peeta said. "You did this?"

"No," responded Effie. Peeta looked at her. "Haymitch did." Peeta breathed in, deeply. "I do not even know when. I spent most of my time locked inside my own head…." Effie's voice trailed off. "Haymitch is taking care of me. He takes _great_ care of me."

Not just with sex. That was recent. But he let her stay in his room, when she was plagued with nightmares. He stayed in what used to be her room sometimes. He bathed her when she couldn't get out of bed. He washed her hair. _Brushed_ her hair. One hundred times, to be exact. He made her eat.

And then she had a really, _really_ bad week. At the time she hadn't known a week had passed, but finally Haymitch had helped her shower, gotten her dressed, and brought her to the backyard.

"You know there is a correlation between flowers and curing depression? Certain flowers emit a heady scent that makes people feel good about themselves. Flowers like lavender." She pointed to the row of lavender flowers. "Wild roses. Gentiana. Peach flower. Sunflower. Willow. I know it might sound ridiculous, I imagine Haymitch must have been desperate. He would have had to research, and Haymitch would have wanted to be sure before trying it out, because he wants me better. He would have had to order the right seeds from the Capitol, and I imagine it would not have been easy."

Effie walked towards the opposite end of the backyard, Peeta following behind her.

"He planted a cherry blossom tree here, and even though they only bloom for a few short weeks, give or take another week due to the weather, he knows how much I love their scent. And _he_ planted it, for _me_. I got better once these were planted. The very same day these flowers bloomed. Haymitch sat me down, on that swing he built, and we just rocked back and forth for hours."

She had cried that day. A _lot_. And he had held her, his lips in her hair, his voice soft in her ear, whispering both sweet nothing and harsh truths, because he was _done_ lying to her.

As always, he had known what she had needed.

"I am far from healed, of course, but I am where I am supposed to be."

Peeta looked at Effie, his face already apologetic. "I suppose I owe you an apology."

"No." Effie shook her head. "I would just ask you to think twice about what you _think_ you know about Haymitch. He is the most selfless man I know. He is also the rudest. If he did not want me here, I would not be here. We have been toxic for each other, but I do not doubt how he feels. And he does not have to hide it any longer. We are good. _I_ am good."

"Johanna said that I should leave it alone…. When I called her earlier last week, I was trying to see if the screams of you I kept hearing in my dreams were real or not. Then I told her how I was worried about you, and she told me to let it go, that you two knew what you were doing, that even though it baffled her, you two worked. She said Haymitch would probably kill himself when he realized how much he loved you, but if anyone deserved second chances, it was you two. I suppose I should have listened."

"I am not surprised you did not. You would not have known how close we all were. You _would_ have. You _and_ Katniss. Chaff would have recruited you two on your Victory Tour, the same way he had recruited Haymitch. If things had died down like Snow wanted… if Katniss had not been our Mockingjay, you would have gotten to know Chaff, Seeder, Mags, Finnick, and Johanna. You would have gotten to know me, and Haymitch. You would have understood us more. But since you did not get that chance, next time I think you should listen when an older Victor tells you something. _Especially_ Johanna. She is the last one left of the group, aside from Haymitch."

"You won't… tell him, will you?"

"I will not." She paused, staring at Peeta. "If I know Haymitch, he has been listening for most of the conversation. He has an uncanny ability to hear me whenever I am defending him."

And as if to prove her point, Haymitch stood at the back door, a cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes were narrowed at Peeta, and it took all of the young boy's courage to keep eye contact.

"Haymitch, I—"

"Go home to your own girl, boy," Haymitch snarled.

Peeta grimaced and disappeared, and Effie sighed, walking up to him. "Do not be too upset with him. He was just concerned. He reminds me of Finnick, in that way." Haymitch just turned and headed inside, Effie behind him. "You cannot be mad at him. You and I had the exact same conversation a few weeks ago."

" _We_ needed to set ground rules," mumbled Haymitch. "I have to build up your trust again, your faith in me."

Effie gently touched his arm. "Don't you think you have to do the same thing for Peeta?" Her voice was gentle as she continued on. "I was not the only one left behind in the Capitol." Haymitch cringed, and started to pull away from her. She pulled him back to her. "He was just protecting me."

" _From me_."

Effie cupped his face. "You are not used to other people caring about me. You are under the assumption that we are still in the Games, or worse, there are Rebels around who still want me executed. Peeta is my Tribute, and I suspect in the same way you are like a father to him, I am like a mother. I protected him in that cell, as best as I could. Before he came back to Twelve, we saw each other every single day. I think I owe you an apology more than Peeta does. I have asked you to lie for me, believing the children to still be children when honestly they are not. They are concerned and I should have been honest with them. _You_ told me that from the beginning."

"I think I'm right a lot more than you are," Haymitch finally said after a few moments of silence.

Effie laughed, and she felt the tension leave her body. "Peeta knows now, which means Katniss knows."

"I think he's been spending too much time with Katniss. He talked all that _shit_ about seeing how much _you_ loved me, but didn't say shit about the looks _I_ gave."

"You were good at hiding," Effie reminded him. "You have an excellent poker face. I have known you for years and only have just now convinced myself you _do_ love me."

He would always have a problem with the words, she knew. She had prepared herself for that. But he showed it well enough, especially in the way he cupped her face and gently kissed her.

Effie deepened the kiss until Haymitch moaned, deep from his throat.

"Princess," he whispered, his eyes dark.

"Make love to me," requested Effie softly. She could say that now, and not be afraid that he would push her away. And he could so without any fears or regrets.

He tugged her hand and led her upstairs, where he obliged.

* * *

A/N: This idea of Peeta and Effie talking about Haymitch's feelings/ Effie getting better/not getting better while planting flowers came out of nowhere, and in the strange way that life sometimes imitates art, I was scrolling through Instagram one day where I saw a post about a man who had planted a backyard full of plants to help cure his blind wife's depression.

As someone who studies psychology, I was very curious about this, so naturally, I researched it, and found the results fascinating. It also made me think about maybe having Haymitch plant a backyard full of flowers to help Effie. I thought it was a really sweet gesture.

With that said, let me take a moment to talk about depression: though I believe in the power of prayer, and there are clearly instances where flowers have helped… I implore anyone suffers from depression, mild or severe, to seek the proper help, especially in this day and age and current climate. It is tough to be a Black person in this America, so to anyone who feels like things are becoming too much, don't be afraid to reach out. Much love.


	269. Good News, Bad News

_Part 1 of Prom Night, though both stories can stand-alone. I had a guest ask me for a prom prompt and I wrote this a few weeks before they asked. I love how sometimes us Hayffie fans are so in tune with each other._

 **GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS**

 **Rated T**

Effie sighed into Haymitch's mouth, her hands working on his tee shirt. His hands were already under her shirt, his hands gripping her breasts over her bra. She moaned softly, her nails scraping his chest.

"Mom? Dad? I'm home!"

Effie gasped. "Oh my God! Ash is here. He's early!" And before Haymitch could blink Effie was gone. He stood there for a few minutes, wondering what exactly had just happened. He scowled and straightened himself inside his pants, trying to remember that he _loved_ his son. He was the only boy, the only person to carry on his name. He should definitely _not_ kill him for interrupting him and his mother.

But the boy had an uncanny ability to always show up at the wrong time. He'd been the same way when he was a toddler. Sometimes Haymitch wondered how he was able to get Effie pregnant two more times with Ash breaking into their room every other night.

Sighing Haymitch made his way downstairs, and when he saw his son all his anger deflated. He was such a good lad. Handsome, too. Nearly an exact replica of Haymitch, and it scared him sometimes, how much they were alike, aside from his eyes.

His posture, demeanor, mind, thoughts… all Haymitch's. He was an arrogant son of a bitch, too.

Though he was much kinder, like his mother.

"Hey, Dad," Ash said, walking up to him and giving him a hug. The two of them had had a rocky summer last year, but since then, everything had been better than ever.

"Why are you early?" asked Haymitch rather gruffly.

" _Honestly_ , Haymitch!" Effie scolded. She turned back to Ash. "You couldn't get here fast enough for me. Look at you! And I like the goatee."

"Oh, thanks. People kept thinking I was Dad, so I had to do _something_." Haymitch smirked. "What are you guys up to?"

"We were about to start getting ready for prom. You know your father and I are chaperoning tonight. I got us the most _amazing_ outfits."

"I don't remember you guys going through all this trouble for me."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "That's because you're a guy, and you're simple."

" _And_ I remember what happened on _my_ prom night," Effie stated, "and I will not let that happen to Ava and Willow."

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at her. "Who'd you go to prom with, _Seneca_?"

"Do not ask questions that you don't want the answer to, Darling." Effie turned back to Ash. "Are you hungry? Why don't you go put your things upstairs and I'll make you a snack?"

"Okay. Where are Ava and Ember?"

"Ember's at Katniss' watching Willow and Ava get ready. You know they're borrowing some of Katniss' old dresses that Cinna made. They'll be here in a few minutes so I can do their makeup since Katniss is hopeless at that kind of thing."

When Ash was upstairs Haymitch turned to her. "You slept with your prom date on prom night?"

"I slept with my _boyfriend_ , whom I loved, on prom night. We were together all four years of high school. If the Districts had had prom, you'd have been doing the exact same thing."

Haymitch frowned. "No I wouldn't have." She arched an eyebrow. "Okay maybe. So what happened to the guy you were with?"

Effie shrugged. "He went off to college and I became an Escort." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"I do love that you can still get jealous after all this time." She walked up to him, softly kissing his lips.

"I'd kill Ava if—"

"I know. But she doesn't even care about her date that way."

"I don't care if she did."

"That's why we're chaperoning, Darling. And that's why the after party is taking place at Katniss and Peeta's. We won't have any repeats of Ash's prom night."

"My prom night was _epic_ ," Ash said, coming back down the stairs.

Effie arched an eyebrow. "You stayed out all night and nearly gave your father and I a heart attack."

"Look, you two smothered me my whole life," sighed Ash. "And I understand why," he stated quickly at their looks. "I just wanted to be _normal_ for one night. So when the guys asked if I wanted to stay over, I took them up on their offer. I was old enough to make my own decisions."

"You were seventeen years old, and a cocky little shit," Haymitch said, trying to keep the pride out of his voice. "You had no business staying out all night. We could have killed you."

Ash grinned, because in retrospect it was quite amusing. At the time he thought he'd never be allowed to leave the house again. They'd humiliated him and walked him to and from school for the rest of the year. He'd been allowed a graduation party, but he didn't get to enjoy his last summer. He spent the majority of the time staring at the four walls of his room.

"I was grounded for _forever_. I think I'm _still_ grounded, in fact."

"Darling, your _children_ are grounded for that stunt you pulled prom night. You're to set an example for your sisters." Effie shook her head and walked towards the kitchen to start making him a snack.

"You're the reason," Haymitch accused, "that I have to dress up in this _stupid_ suit and _babysit_ a bunch of horny teenagers tonight."

Effie shot him an amused glance.

Before Ash could respond the front door swung open, and in walked Ember, Ava, and Willow, who squealed when she saw Ash and somehow beat both Ember and Ava to him.

She was in his arms in seconds, and Ash, as strong as an ox at his age, easily picked her up and spun her around a few times. He put her down just as Rye, Katniss and Peeta walked in.

Effie watched as Ash slowly backed away from Willow. "Wow. You look… you look…." He blinked rapidly, staring at her hunter green prom dress. "You look… perfect," he finally finished, and Effie and Peeta locked eyes and grinned at each other.

"Thank you," said Willow softly, a faint blush on her cheeks. "You're home early. Why didn't you say you were here? I wasn't expecting you for another hour or so."

"I know. I caught an earlier train because I've got some exciting news to share, _after_ I see my little munchkins." Ash embraced Ember and Ava, who weren't so little anymore, stepping back to look at his middle sister. "You look beautiful, Ava."

"Thanks, bro," Ava beamed. "We've missed you. Now what's your news?"

He didn't immediately answer. Instead he had a kiss on the cheek for Katniss and a handshake for Rye and Peeta. By this time Effie had a plate full of cake that Peeta had made yesterday. She rested it on top of the table and grabbed plates, forks, and knives.

"So what's your big news?" asked Effie as they all sat around the table and on the counters.

"Well I've got good news, and bad news."

Effie glanced at Haymitch. "What's the bad news?" Haymitch asked.

"I got offered a fulltime job offer at an aviation center." Everybody stayed silent for a few seconds, until Effie said,

"Oh my God! Oh my God, Ash, that's _wonderful_ news! Why would you say that's bad news?"

"Because it's…."

"In the Capitol," said Willow softly. Ash's blue eyes rested on Willow's grey ones.

He nodded. "Yah. I'll have to move there permanently."

Again, silence. He'd been coming back home every summer while he was in undergrad, and continued to do so during graduate school. Now that he was about to graduate again they knew what was coming.

"That's not bad news, Ash," Effie finally said, blinking rapidly.

"No, it's not," agreed Haymitch. "That's wonderful news. You're brilliant. We always knew it'd be a possibility."

"But I know how you all feel about the Capitol," Ash said quietly.

"Do _not_ be ridiculous," scolded Effie. "The Capitol isn't what it used to be. It's _nothing_ like it used to be. This is what we fought for, so that people can leave the District and make a better life."

"Sons and daughters leave the nest. That's… the circle of life," Haymitch said.

"I'm not," declared Ember. "I'm staying right here in Twelve." She would, thought Effie. If anyone did, it'd be Ember. She'd been dating a boy from the Seam for the past year. She was definitely Effie's child. Not to mention she'd taken quite an interest in photography, and declared that she could travel to different Districts to take pictures, but she would live here forever. Haymitch and Effie had bought her a camera as quickly as possible to show their support.

"So you're not mad?" Ash asked.

"Mad?" asked Effie. "Of course not. You'll just have to visit. A lot. Like every weekend." Her voice started shaking and her eyes welled with tears.

"Mom, please don't cry. I won't take the job, okay?"

"Don't be silly. These are _happy_ tears." And then she was in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Haymitch rolled his eyes and walked up to her.

"Calm down, Princess. Let the boy breathe." He smirked at his son, who smirked back. "So what'll you be doing?"

"They want me as a junior director—get this: to _help build a rocket_ that'll travel up to space. It's been done before, of course, pre-Apocalypse. It's a big time job, with a big time title. I'll have over a hundred men—and women—under me."

Peeta whistled.

"That's impressive," Katniss said. "Congrats, Ash."

"Thanks." He smiled all of them, his eyes resting on Willow.

"So what's the good news?" asked Willow.

"Well… the good news is that for the past year I've been visiting Uncle Beetee in Two. I haven't said anything in case things didn't work out, and I didn't want you guys to be disappointed. You know he's over construction now. He's the one who recommended me for the position. But before I can officially start, I need experience. He's been trying to get me to oversee a new airport facility. It'll just be for a year, until they can find someone permanent to take over. But that year will give me experience under my belt. It was officially approved today. Uncle Beetee sent me the email." He looked at them all. "Twelve is getting an airport, and I'm in charge of it for the next year."

Again, silence.

"So… you're moving back home?" Effie whispered softly.

"I am," nodded Ash. "But only for a year." It was important to stress that.

 _That_ had Haymitch's throat clogging up, but he wasn't about to let anyone know that. "That's great, Son," was all he said. "Your mother's missed having you around."

Ash grinned. "Oh, just Mom?" Haymitch smirked.

"Well I have news, too," stated Willow, never to be out done. "I didn't wanna say anything until I told Mom and Dad, but since everyone's here and up for sharing…." She cleared her throat. "I got into Design School. I got my acceptance letter last week."

Peeta and Katniss both just stared.

And then—

"Oh my God." And Katniss burst into tears, running to Willow, Peeta behind her. "I'm so happy for you. I know how badly you wanted to go there."

"That is simply _wonderful_ ," Effie exclaimed happily.

"Which school?" asked Ash, much too casually.

"University of Panem," Willow responded, her eyes bright as she hugged her father. "I'm in an advanced course. The Director loved my portfolio so much she said I didn't even have to test into my major and minor." Willow smiled at Effie. "I'm sure having a letter of recommendation from one of the Capitol's most elite helped as well." Effie smiled at Willow.

"What will you major in?" asked Haymitch.

She cleared her throat. "I'm majoring in Cinna, and minoring in Effie. I always felt like fashion was more so my thing, but modeling and fashion go hand in hand."

Effie stilled. "What do you mean you're minoring in Effie?"

"Well it used to be a class that you had to take," said Willow. "Now it's an actual degree. It's so competitive. If you graduate with a 4.0 you're automatically guaranteed a one-year contract from a major modeling agency. I figure it's a foolproof backup plan if things don't go well with Design, though I don't see why it wouldn't. If I graduate top of my class I can choose which Designer I want to work for. Some of the hottest stylists of our time graduated from the School of Cinna."

"You two are so inspiring," sighed Ember. "Which designer would you choose?"

"I'm sort of obsessed with Victoria's Secret right now."

" _What_?!" Haymitch's mouth dropped open.

"Not just for design. I'd love to model for them too."

"Are you _insane_?" asked Haymitch. "No almost-granddaughter of mine will be working anywhere _near_ that place."

"Honestly Haymitch! It's quite a respectable job," argued Effie.

"Princess, we _shop_ at Victoria's Secret. There's _nothing_ respectable about it."

" _That_ is _quite_ enough of that talk," Ash said, paling, and Ember and Ava shouted in agreement. "Do not _ever_ say things like that again." He frowned down at his cake. "I'm not even hungry anymore."

"Oh grow up," snapped Effie, but she had a faint smile on her face.

"I'm with Ash," Katniss said. "That's gross. You two are _way_ too old for that."

" _That_ is certainly not true," smiled Haymitch.

"We're still talking about it!" Ash said.

Haymitch snorted. " _You_ better hope you can keep up when you're my age, boy. You're the only one allowed to carry on the tradition. I'm locking your sisters up, because if they're anything like their mother—"

"Stop talking _now_ ," Ember demanded.

"See? Much too much like Effie already."

"Makeup. _Now_." Willow stood up. "And absolutely no talk like that again."

"We'll keep our sex life private if you promise not to step foot _in_ a Victoria's Secret, let alone _work_ for one."

"Deal. Deal. Just… God, _stop it_. I'll be in Ava's room."

"I'm right behind you," Ava said, and Ember followed behind the two other girls.

"I guess I'll go up there and start on their makeup," sighed Effie.

"I can't believe they're going to prom," Ash said. "Seems like just yesterday Ava and Willow were born."

"I know the feeling," said Effie softly. She smiled fondly at Ash and he smiled back at her, and then she made her way upstairs.


	270. Of Jealousy, Insecurities, &First Kisses

**OF JEALOUSY, INSECURITIES, AND FIRST KISSES**

 **Rated M**

Effie looked around and shook her head. "Okay," sighed Effie. "I owe you one." She continued to look around, taking in the party. It was boring, to say the least, and she was rather disappointed. She had attended several parties of the same kind and they'd been quite a blast. _This_ one was seriously lacking in the good time department. Despite the crowd and the fact that the music was playing nobody was dancing, and everyone was in cliques, whispering in groups of two or three. The food was good, the drinks flowing, but no one was really having a good time. "Or two," Effie said as an after thought.

"You actually owe me three," Haymitch stated, his arms around her waist, but he was grinning.

Effie kept her frown firmly in place, though. "Out of _all_ the times for Prudance to have a dull party, she waits until you're actually in town." Effie sighed. "I suppose I should have just bought Leto with me like I normally do instead of dragging you all the way from Twelve."

Haymitch stiffened slightly. " _Leto_? Who's that?"

"My plus one," Effie said absentmindedly, looking around. Anybody who was anyone was here, so Effie couldn't quite figure out what was lacking from the party. She caught Plutarch's eye and he raised his glass to her. She gave him a polite smile and turned back to Haymitch, who had dropped his arms to his side.

"You bring other men with you to Capitol parties?"

Effie looked at him. "Don't be ridiculous. I bring _Leto_. He's my designated plus one."

"I'm sorry, I didn't get the memo that we were allowed another plus one if the other person wasn't available." His voice started taking a tone she didn't exactly like. "I suppose I could have invited Hazelle to be my plus one, then, when Gale got married in Two?"

Effie stiffened. "That's different. Hazelle's attracted to you."

"And how do I bloody hell know this Leto isn't attracted to _you_?"

"Because he is gay and wouldn't look twice at me, or at anyone like me."

Haymitch inhaled sharply and took a step back. " _Fuck_ , Effie," he spat.

" _Language_ , Haymitch," snapped Effie. She looked around; making sure no one heard them. "Do you honestly think I'd step out on you? After _everything_ we've been through?"

"Well _look_ at you," he hissed back. "Who else can make blind men see and gay men straight but Effie Trinket? You should hear the way the clowns at this party are talking about you. They all want a piece." They'd made it _abundantly_ clear what they wanted to do to Effie Trinket, so much so that Haymitch felt his temper boil over, until he remembered that _he'd_ be the one leaving with her, and would get to take off the hot little sky blue dress that showed every inch of her long legs and every curve of her hips.

"And _you're_ Haymitch Abernathy, former Quarter Quell Victor. Every woman in here has wet panties every time you make your way passed them. I'm Effie Trinket, I was a model, and current socialite, and people are _still_ wondering when you're going to dump me for someone ten times younger and twenty times hotter." She huffed at that, and turned away from him, walking off.

"Where are you going?"

"To powder my nose," Effie called.

" _What_?" Haymitch approached her. "I thought you were done with all the makeup and powder."

Effie's shoulder sagged in a rare display of improper defeat. "Nose powdering is a code word females use because it's not _proper_ to state aloud that you're going to the bathroom."

Haymitch stopped. "Oh. Right. I'll be right here, then."

She shook her head at him, with pity in her eyes no less, and stalked off.

She was pissed, he could tell, and a little bit hurt, and he figured he'd made an ass out of himself again. He should be used to it, and so should she, especially when he was out here. He had no idea the correlation between the Capitol and him becoming a blundering idiot, but it was something that happened often.

He thought about all those Capitol Games, and the way he'd pin her up against the wall.

He made his way to the bathroom, knocking gently. "Effie? It's me."

"Haymitch?" The door swung open. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing that can't be fixed," grinned Haymitch, stepping into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, locking it. He immediately grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. "I don't want anyone younger or hotter. _You're_ young and hot enough." He nibbled on her ear, happy to elicit a soft moan from her. "You're the only one that makes my body act like this." He pressed himself against her, causing her to gasp.

"Haymitch Abernathy, we are _not_ about to have _sex_ in my friend's bathroom."

He bit her throat and pushed her against the sink, his lips on hers. "Wanna bet?" He turned her neck so that he was kissing that tender spot between her neck and ear that always gave him what he wanted.

"You are a cheater," she stated, and then her hands were on his belt buckle. He lifted her up on the vanity and several things fell, some onto the floor, some into the sink. Effie figured somewhere deep inside she was supposed to feel bad, but she didn't. She lowered her head to him, using her mouth to please him, until he pulled her hair.

Haymitch spun her around, bending her over, and lifted the skintight dress of her flesh. He wrapped his arms around her waist, planting kisses on the back of her neck and her shoulder blade, his teeth sinking into her visible flesh. She arched against him and he felt himself throbbing.

He used the mirror for balance, palming the glass, and he jammed himself into her. She cried out, also using the mirror in order to push back against him. His hips jerked rapidly into hers, their flesh slapping, and he grunted out her name, their eyes locking in the mirror. His thrusts were rough and relentless, and hard enough for her breasts to fall out the top of her dress.

He nearly came at the sight of them.

The first orgasm made her lose her balance, and she bent down, gripping the sink. More things fell but the pleasure was too much and she didn't care. She gripped his hands, and he sped up, his breath hot on her neck. She arched her back, granting him deeper access. His hand slithered down her front, cupping her center, forcing her to cum again.

He wouldn't last much longer if he kept up like this, so he pulled out and turned her back around. He sat her back on the vanity, entering her almost immediately, and she gripped his hips, forcing him deeper into her. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, the two of them fighting for control. A lot had changed between them over the years, but this wasn't one of them. He preferred being in control, but he tended to lose control when it came to her.

"Haymitch," she moaned out, and he sped up even more. She gasped, and then whimpered. He knew her, so he kissed her, trying to keep her quiet, only she didn't exactly _do_ quiet, at least not _well_.

When the final orgasm rolled through her he covered her mouth with her hand as she came, loudly. The music in the background was no match for her string of yesses. Her cries of pleasure didn't die down until he finally stopped thrusting, every drop spent.

He kissed her, slowly pulling out of her, his heart racing. He rested his forehead against her. "I love that even after all these years, we can still make each other jealous."

"Yes, I still hate the thought of you with another woman."

"And I hate the thought of you with another man."

"I don't _want_ any other man. I haven't wanted another man since the first time you kissed me."

He snorted, zipping his pants back up. " _You_ kissed _me_ , Princess."

" _Ha_! I did no such thing." She straightened up her dress. "Men were throwing themselves at me. I did not _need_ to kiss you."

"Nope, you just _wanted_ to."

" _You_ made the first move," she reminded him.

"That makes _you_ the lucky one. You could still be alone and miserable."

"And so could you."

"But I was okay with alone and miserable," said Haymitch. "You? Not so much."

"Oh, well thank you for putting me out of my misery," Effie deadpanned, looking at herself. She looked like she'd been doing _exactly_ what she'd been doing. She wondered if there was a back door to sneak out of.

Haymitch wrapped his arms around her, his chin propped on her shoulder. "I'm not okay with alone and miserable anymore. You saw to that."

She smiled at him. "I love you."

He smirked. "You better." He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "You complete me. You know that, right?"

She turned around and kissed him properly, wondering if she was starting a round two. "I do," she stated.

 _I do_ , he thought to himself.

He thought it had a pretty nice ring to it.

 _Prequel to Of New Years and Newlyweds, Chapter 155._


	271. Another Night Out

_"Ok that went left real quick. Can we get a one shot where ef actually has a good time?" –Guest is referring to chapter 39._

 **ANOTHER NIGHT OUT**

 **Rated M**

Effie allowed Cinna to make her up, humming quietly as he applied her eyelashes.

"Remember, not too long," Effie stated.

Cinna grinned. "Yes, I'm well aware that Haymitch likes you to look natural."

Effie's eyes fluttered open. "Do _not_ be ridiculous," said Effie. "This has _nothing_ to do with Haymitch, I do not—"

"Have to lie to me," Cinna finished smoothly. "You nor Haymitch are blind, it is rather obvious how you two feel about each other."

Effie sighed, deflating. "He feels _nothing_."

Cinna arched an eyebrow. "Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?" Effie didn't respond. "Your secret is safe with me."

"How did you even know? We are careful."

"I am your stylist, and Portia is his. We've compared notes. I don't find it mere coincidence when you have love marks along your neck Haymitch also has scratches on his back."

"It is just sex. Sex is a necessity."

"Well you'll get no argument from me there. But it's definitely more than sex, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"There's _everything_ wrong with that."

Cinna stopped applying Effie's make up and stared at her. "There are many things wrong in the world right now. Love is _not_ one of them." Cinna stepped back, admiring his work. "As usual, you are perfect Effie Trinket, a crowned jewel. If – _if_ – Haymitch does not know what he has in you… show him tonight."

…

Effie was the last to be ready, it was a strange thing to be rushing _her_ for once, but if she didn't come along then the bar he favored would be closed. At this rate there would be no point in even going out.

"Effie Trinket, if you don't get out of here in the next minute I'm coming in there after you."

"I'd like to see you try," called back Effie, and Haymitch sulked as Johanna, Finnick, and Chaff laughed. Only Seeder sent him a sympathetic smile.

He always had liked her best.

Haymitch was serious though, it was getting _late_ , and if he had to go in there and march Effie out, then so be it.

He was two seconds away from doing so when he heard her heels clicking against the wooden floors.

"Well it's about bloody time," Haymitch started to snap, only his retort caught in his throat when he saw her. He took in her blonde wig, mild by her normal standards, got stuck looking into those bright blue eyes, eyes that he could read better than anyone, and was finally able to break eye contact and continue looking her over: a skintight red dress that had _no_ business on her body, yet Haymitch couldn't help but wonder if it would be _torture_ peeling it off of her tonight.

He marched up to her, dragging her back towards the bedroom.

"Haymitch _what_ are you doing?" demanded Effie.

"You're _not_ wearing that," Haymitch told her darkly.

Effie arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Absolutely not. _You_ dressed in a dress like _that_ shouldn't see the light of day."

"Well good thing it's dark then," Effie deadpanned.

Haymitch growled – _growled_ – and pushed her against the wall. "I suggested you coming out with all of us tonight because I don't wanna let you outta my sight. There's already too much attention on us, you're in bad enough company as it is because you're the Escort for Twelve and all of us _surely_ have a fucking death sentence hanging over our heads. Why the _hell_ would you wear something like this, when every eye in the Capitol will be on you?"

Effie sighed. "Cinna picked the dress, _he_ said you would like it."

"This isn't about that," Haymitch said. "You're in this too deep, I told you that when you got me this _stupid_ bracelet." They both glanced at the bangle on his arm, the bangle he had yet take off even though he'd fought her tooth and nail on it. "You're pledging your allegiance, Princess, and it's dangerous."

"Haymitch I am not in the mood to have this same argument with you. We have been discussing this since the Victory Tour. Sing a new tune. And for someone who was so keen on me being on time _two minutes_ ago you are certainly making us even later. We are going to a Capitol bar, trust and believe I am dressed like everyone else will be. Now I _really_ just want to have _one night_ where I get to have a good time before all of Panem goes to hell, so can we just pretend like we argued, and, as usual, I won, and we get on with it?"

Haymitch scowled at her, but let her be. If she ended up going down with them it'd be _her_ fault. He'd warned her, hadn't he? He'd done his part.

Still, he couldn't quite help himself as they went out. He got drunker than he should have, but he kept her in his line of sight all night, if anything happened he was ready, he was _always_ ready, and a few hours into it he had enough liquor in his system to _enjoy_ the night for what it was, just him and his friends – and _yes_ , that included Effie, though in all honesty she was much more than a friend, though _that_ was a can of worms he wasn't ready to open yet – and they danced together and laughed together and when he got her home he ripped that dress off of her and had her moving against him for the rest of the night.

Convincing her to write a note giving Katniss and Peeta a free day was much easier than he thought it'd be, and like they had enjoyed a night together in the Capitol, they enjoyed a day together in bed.

At least when things went to shit he'd have this memory.


	272. Before the Tour

**BEFORE THE TOUR**

 **Rated T**

Effie took a deep breath and then opened the door, walking inside and immediately taking in the familiar sights: the outdated furniture, the bottles of liquor, the dusty curtains. It seemed a little cleaner than usual, but the major difference this year was that the fireplace was burning.

This was the first time she'd been here in the wintertime, and she welcomed the warmth with open arms.

Haymitch sat next to the fireplace, something else that was new. In the summertime he favored the same wooden rocking chair, though it was never near the fireplace, and it damn sure wasn't the only place he could be. She'd found him on the couch, face down on the floor, on the _stairs_ – she'd given him _hell_ that year, she hadn't let him touch her at all that year, giving him the silent treatment _and_ the cold shoulder.

He was rarely sober. When she'd first become his Escort he wasn't _completely_ dependent on the drink, but it hadn't taken long for him to succumb to the addiction, and she had to watch it happen before her eyes, watching him wither away into a shell of the man she had hoped to know.

It wasn't until she saw his Games for his ten-year anniversary that she understood.

He watched her out of bloodshot eyes, but he wasn't as drunk as he normally was. As drunk as he _could_ be.

"I take it you've heard?" asked Haymitch, bringing the bottle to his lips.

"Of course I have," Effie responded, walking towards him.

"Come to say goodbye?"

Effie discarded her coat, tossing it on to the couch. "What does it say that I mourned more for losing you as my Mentor than I did for Seneca?"

Haymitch snorted. "You'll miss the _sex_ more than me."

It wasn't the truth, they both knew it at this point, but their entire relationship was based on things neither one of them were able or willing to admit.

"Peeta and Katniss will be good Mentors, yes?"

Haymitch shrugged, refusing to voice his fears aloud. Both Peeta and Katniss were attractive, and Haymitch knew what happened to attractive Tributes. Even with Peeta's leg, he was more than sure there were a few Capitol women – and _men_ – who had strange _kinks_ and shit and wouldn't mind taking advantage of the boy, who was quickly turning into a man. Cinna might have dressed Katniss like a little girl after they'd won, but in reality the girl was sixteen and she'd be eighteen before any of them could blink. They both would.

"Will you teach them everything you know? Coach them during the Off Season?"

Haymitch snorted again. "Teach them what? To lift with your knees when you bring the coffin home?"

Effie stopped walking .

"I didn't mean that." Haymitch sighed and sat the bottle down, standing up. He walked towards her, and Effie made her way to him. "I thought I'd feel relieved. I'd never have to fucking go back to the Capitol again."

"Yes. I already figured you would not be like some of the other former Mentors who come down for the Games, not even to visit old friends."

He heard it, the underlying hope, and the silent question: was _she_ worth coming back to the Capitol for?

"There is _nothing_ worth me going back there for, Princess." She kept her face masked, the only thing giving her away was the rapid way she started blinking. "But _you'll_ still be their Escort, which means you'll come every year for the Reaping—"

"Oh, great, I can see you for one day out of the year as opposed to _three weeks_. I guess you finally made a proper Escort out of me, I can finally look forward to the Reapings." He could tell at once she regretted the words, it was too much of an admission, and they didn't make admissions, admissions were dangerous.

"You can think of something," Haymitch stated reluctantly.

"Traveling between Districts is illegal, Haymitch," sighed Effie.

"Even for Escort Extraordinaire Effie Trinket?"

He was teasing her, and she felt the reluctant smile tugging at her lips. When his hands rested on her hips she leaned into him.

"I am not very good at goodbye's," she whispered.

"At least I get to _say_ goodbye this time." That admission was out of his mouth before he realized it, and Effie was wise enough to not mention it. She would never mention it.

"We don't have to think about it for a few more weeks. We still have to get through the Tour, so… are you all packed?"

"Of course not," scoffed Haymitch. "You're only gonna go through everything and talk about how outdated it is."

"Well you are not wrong there."

"I'm never wrong."

The chuckle she let out was silenced by his lips.

It felt good to laugh, even for a moment. Neither of them were sure how many laughs they would have left.


	273. Forever a TEAM

_Because the fact that Everlark's and Hayffie's last name initials spell TEAM is currently my obsession_.

 **FOREVER A TEAM**

 **Rated M**

Effie sighed softly, enjoying the familiar taste of Haymitch lips on hers. Everything felt magnified, like it was her first time all over again. She was acutely aware of every touch: his callused hands, firm on her breast; his tongue, sliding in between her lips; his teeth, scraping against hers; his breath on her neck; the feel of her body melting into the new memory foam mattress; and _him_ , his body, on top of hers, his length resting on her stomach.

She felt _free_.

What was supposed to be a gentle whisper of his name came out much louder than she anticipated, but it seemed like every sound was amplified: she could hear him both inhale and exhale; she heard the way he cursed as he slid into her; she would swear that she could hear her fingernails marking his back.

It was like being on drugs.

 _He_ was her drug.

It had been _years_ : three years in the Capitol, and two years here, in Twelve, them getting to know each other again, growing back together, and a year and a half of being nice and walking on eggshells and nightmares and drunken stupors, until Effie had declared she was going back to the Capitol, because it was obvious she was inconveniencing him, and finally they had their first _real_ fight since she'd been back, and it was _amazing_.

 _This_ night had been in the making for _months_ now. With the angry fights came kisses, and with the kisses came the desire, and finally, _finally_ they had fallen back into bed together.

She had _missed_ him, like she missed laughing. Like she missed spa days. Like she missed _happiness_.

He was her happiness.

She moaned out his name again, her body remembering exactly how it felt to have Haymitch as a lover. He _knew_ her, he knew her body better than she did, he had learned it, studied it like he had everything else, and become an expert.

It was different right now. He was definitely taking his time, appreciating her. He was being tender and gentle, and she had only experienced that one other time, the night he disappeared onto that hovercraft to Thirteen, leaving her behind.

The roughness would come, but it would no longer be hate sex, it would just be _rough_ and _hard_ , and everything Effie wanted and needed.

 _Not_ that she was complaining about this: he was certainly hard enough tonight.

She bit his shoulder as her first orgasm whipped out of her body. Haymitch stilled, letting her cum, and Effie understood how difficult it must be for him to allow her pleasure right now.

She loved him even more.

Haymitch pulled out, his eyes dark, and kissed her. "Turn around, Princess," he mumbled in her ear. She didn't hesitate, she turned on her back, Haymitch's hands immediately gripping her waist. He pulled her up so that her back was against his chest, and she locked eyes with him in the vanity mirror located across from the bed.

He moved her hair to the other shoulder – she had grown her hair out, it was longer than it had ever been – and Haymitch inhaled sharply. She flinched, worried he'd found a particularly ugly scar – another reason this had taken so long, it had taken herself _months_ to convince herself she would be ready for his criticism.

"Effie," whispered Haymitch, and then he brushed her shoulder blade. "When did you get this?"

And suddenly she realized he was talking about her tattoo. It read _TEAM_ in a cursive script.

"A few years ago," she admitted quietly, staring at him in the mirror. "I was covering a particular embarrassing scar. It was still too dangerous to just get _Mockingjay_ , or something of the sort, and really I was missing all of you terribly."

"Why does the _A_ have a heart around it?"

Now she blushed, looking down. "Do you know what TEAM stands for?"

Haymitch looked down at it. "It's us, yah? Me and the kids? You wanted us to be a team."

"Yes, but…." Effie sighed, and then turned around so that she was facing him. In her desire to get to this moment she'd forgotten about the tattoo, forgetting that she would have to explain it. "You ever realize our initials spell out the word?" Haymitch just blinked at her. " _T_ for Trinket, _E_ for Everdeen…." She stopped there, blushing again, no longer brave enough to meet to his eye.

" _A_ for Abernathy. But the heart's around _my_ name. You have a heart around the letter for _my name_."

Effie cringed, her shoulders drooping. She turned away, suddenly desperate to get out of here.

She never used to run. _He_ was the one that had always run away.

He snaked his arms around her before she could leave the bed, pulling her back to him.

"Effie… tell me why there's a heart around my initial."

"Are you that _stupid_?" she finally snapped. "You were much smarter before, you saw it before, and ran away enough times for me to know you knew. I am _sorry_ okay? I missed you, and I do not know how to stop loving you. I have _tried_. I wanted to hate you. I _wanted_ to hate you. Hating you would be easier, and it would certainly hurt less."

She took a deep breath, while Haymitch just sat there. She could feel the way his heart was pounding in his chest, its speed rapid.

"It is all right." Her voiced was quiet after her outburst. "I am used to you not loving me. It does not change anything. I _tried_ to hide it." She shrugged, going for indifferent. "It will be just like old times."

"I don't want it like old times." The admission was soft. "I thought… I _hoped_ … _fuck_ I'm shit at this." He took a shaky breath. "I haven't hated you for a long time. At least since Seneca and you were engaged, but I suspect it was before that figuring the way I reacted. It was just… _different_ then. _Dangerous_. You _had_ to know, Princess, I mean _everybody_ knew."

She stilled.

"Chaff and Finnick used to give me so much _shit_. And Johanna? Johanna _hated_ it. I denied it. I denied it for as long as I could, and it did no good, because you were still taken. You were missing and it _destroyed_ me, Effie, I…." Haymitch paused, his thumb stroking her stomach. "It was like I was sixteen all over again, except it was _worse_. I didn't know it could hurt worse."

Effie turned and faced him, and Haymitch looked away from her, no longer meeting her eye.

"You have gotten _really_ good at hiding your feelings, Princess. We could have done this _months_ ago, but I was trying to brace myself for falling for you all over again, only I thought it was too late. I _finally_ felt like I was in a position to have something _good_ , and I was too late. I've spent my entire life being too late." Now he looked at her. "I ain't askin' you why my initial is in a heart so I can runway again, Princess. I'm asking because I need to hear you say it. And it ain't fair of me to ask, 'cause I'll never be able to say it back. I want _to_. I'd _love_ to. But people who hear that word from me… they _die_ , Effie."

Effie cupped his cheeks, her own heart damn near pounding of her chest. "Not anymore." She kissed him, hard. "I love you. _I love you_." She kissed him again. "I love you." She wrapped her legs around him, sitting on his lap. She felt him harden again. "I have waited about fifteen years to tell you." She sunk onto him, her eyes squeezing shut at the pleasure. "I will tell you I love you every single day, I have _years_ to make up for." He snorted, burying his face in between her chest, and then moaned as she sped up.

Afterwards they lay where they dropped, absolutely spent.

"You'll move into the bedroom now, yah?" asked Haymitch.

"Of course. I did not redecorate it for you to enjoy the space alone. Why else do you think I ordered a California King?"

"Beats the _shit_ outta me, Princess, you sleep under me, you always have."

"Well, it is for when you undoubtedly make me mad and I do not want you touching me. There is no sense in making you sleep on the couch, though as your wife I have that right, but we both sleep better with each other, so."

"Wife?"

"Yes. We have a common law marriage now. Do try and keep up, will you?"

He stayed silent for several moments. "We could have a toasting," he told her softly, his heart pounding harder than he would like.

Effie got very still.

"It's nothin' fancy in comparison to the Capitol's standards, but it's just this tradition we have in Twelve—"

"Yes," she breathed. "Absolutely yes."

Haymitch let out an audible breath.

They toasted the next day, just the two of them, waiting until dinner to tell the kids. Peeta just smirked while Katniss stared at them for ten minutes, spoon midair, her grey eyes filled with confusion.

They never got rings. He didn't need one, and she was content with the fact that they had a marriage license to hang on their wall.

Haymitch _did_ get a tattoo, though. He came back with it one weekend after visiting Johanna in Two, about a year after they'd been married. He got _TEAM_ , in block letters on his forearm. He would _never_ get a heart around the _T_ , and Effie would have never expected him to.

What he did get, was a crown, above the _T_ , no frills or thrills, but it was a crown, nonetheless.

He had claimed to have been drunk when he got it, but he hadn't been _drunk_ in months. She didn't make a big deal about it, because he still freaked out sometimes, but it pleased her nonetheless.

One day the kids showed up with one, Katniss' on her shoulder, a dandelion at the end of the _M_. Peeta had three bowstrings to make up the _E_ on his bicep.

They were a _team_. They would _always_ be a team.

Permanently, and indefinitely.

Forever.

* * *

A/N: So I am obviously heartbroken over the events in Vegas last night. When I went to bed only two had been injured, so I had assumed that - Vegas - someone had gotten drunk, got into with someone else, and people were killed. The fact that I prefer that to the alternative... To wake up and see that 50 concert goers have been killed, and that ISIS has claimed responsibility... I am just sick. I wonder what trump will do now for this travel band, and how badly this will affect innocent lives. I'm sad I can't concentrate solely on the victims who lost their lives because I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop with what trump's gonna do... I'm am truly sad. Everyone, stay safe. More love, less hate.


	274. Broken Strings

_So there's been an HP, Divergent and even a Giver crossover that I've come across in the HG fic world. All those stories have the commonality of people being chosen for a specific role/profession etc. In almost every Hayffie story, it's pointed out that Effie is always different from all the other escorts. Not just because she's Haymitch's, but because she sees what the others don't. So it occurred to me that perhaps unlike the others, maybe Effie was forced to become an escort?_ __

 _With the Games being such a fundamental aspect of Panem, couldn't we assume that even Capital families would have to give up a child to it? Especially those with multiple children of the same gender? While the Districts have to submit the actual victims, Capital residents have to submit a child to fill in the other roles. It would be a bit like in old days when a family with multiple sons would have to send one to the army and the other to the church. Maybe Effie displays early signs of dislike towards the Games and so that incentivizes her parents to send her off to be trained to try and protect her. So she smiles and pretends, but deep down she despises it all and it's not until she meets Haymitch that she finds someone who does as well." –Pari B_

 **BROKEN STRINGS**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch felt Effie swoon and his arms automatically wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her to him. He rested his forehead against hers, the two of them breathing deeply.

"Haymitch," she whispered.

"I know, Princess." He cupped her cheek, tempted to kiss her, it wouldn't be the first time, but he resisted.

"Haymitch," whispered Effie again, and it was something about the way he said her name that had him looking at her. "The berries."

He jerked, violently. For a moment, for the briefest of seconds, he had forgotten. All he could think about was that he had not one but _two_ Victors. There would be no coffins to take home this time.

But the _berries_ ….

And the fact that it was _Effie Trinket_ of all people reminding him….

She was clever, more clever than he gave her credit for, but the thought that she _really_ knew what those berries meant was worrisome.

"What are we going to do?" asked Effie.

 _We_?

"You must get in touch with Beetee. He has to run interference with the train now. Your phones are most likely going to be tapped, though I figure you already knew that since you ripped your phone out _years_ ago. But Katniss and Peeta have no idea what is about to happen."

Haymitch just blinked at her.

She was different, that much he knew. Chaff had said that a million times, as had Mags. How many times had he told Johanna that? Hell she bought time with Finnick since he'd fallen for Annie, and _that_ had hit Haymitch in the gut, it'd made him respect her in ways he never thought imaginable, even more so than the fact that she refused to sleep with Haymitch when he was too drunk.

But he had been very, very careful at trying to stay detached.

Whether or not it worked was not a discussion he was ready to have with himself.

"Listen to me," Effie said urgently. "There will be hell to pay for this, you and I both know what happens to people who defy the Capitol. You sell the Star-Crossed Lovers story until there is nothing left. She is young, she is in love, the thought of being without Peeta was unbearable. Do you understand?"

Haymitch just continued to stare at her.

"Don't look so surprised," snapped out Effie. "I mean surely after twenty years you have recognized _something_."

Haymitch stayed quiet, until the only thing he could think about finally escaped from his mouth. "You're supposed to be a Capitol puppet!"

Effie stared at him for several moments, and for the first time ever he noted pity there as she stared back at him. "You really have no clue, what goes on here, do you? For all your talk of Capitols being blind puppets, did you ever do your own research on this city? Marriages that produce more than one child are put into a pool of… opportunities, if you will. The oldest is your birth right. They are safe. But anyone after that is free game. We are put through a series of tests at age twelve. That age should seem familiar to you, yes? These tests are designed to place us in certain categories: Gamemakers, Gamekeepers, Announcers, Peacekeepers. Not everyone volunteers for their duties, you know.

"When I was a child I _hated_ the Games. I thought they were barbaric and _completely_ ridiculous. My father _freaked_ , he put me in early training to learn how to act, smile, _pretend_ , so that by the time I was twelve, what else would Effie Trinket make but a perfect Escort?

"Oh, I had fooled them all. All except one Plutarch Heavensbee, who at the time was only the President in Training for Categories – that was the name of the system that tested you so you could be properly placed – he approached me and told me I scored exceptionally well in my cunning skills. Plutarch always seemed to have a knack for picking people who would become Rebels. Cinna and Portia are not _only_ fashion designers, surely you have figured that out by now."

She knew about Cinna and Portia….

"Yes, I know about them. Who the hell do you think has been training them?" Haymitch said nothing. "I am no Capitol puppet, Haymitch. If I am a puppet, then my strings are long broken."

She walked up to him, grabbing his face this time. "It is time to stop pretending. The berries change everything. We are a team now, Haymitch. Now let's go get our Victors."

There were so many emotions he was feeling, more than he was comfortable admitting. Emotions from desire to awe to happiness to shock to _relief_.

And anger.

Anger because what she was doing was _dangerous_ , and it could mean destruction and death he could _not_ deal with that.

He would have Plutarch's head for involving his Escort in anything rebellious. He would _kill_ him, in fact.

His Escort was a Rebel, not a puppet.

 _His Escort was a Rebel, not a puppet_.

Yah, he thought as he followed his Escort out of the Penthouse, Plutarch was _dead_.


	275. Wedding Day

A/N: To the Guest Reviewer who is asking for Hayffie pregnancy-related prompts: I hope you see this. If you keep reading, I think you'll find that you've already gotten what you're looking for :) The prompt you requested about morning sickness has not been done yet, so I will be happy to do that, but please keep in mind that there are several prompts ahead of you. You seem to be very into Hayffie pregnancy, but the prompts you requested have been done, so just keep reading, just keep reading, just keep reading, reading, reading (in my Dory voice). LOL.

Also, if I may, and this is for every "guest reviewer" even if you don't have an account, please put a Guest name so I can address you directly. I hate just saying "Guest." Like you're a whole person, you totally deserve a name LOL.

 **WEDDING DAY**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch softly knocked on the door, and then entered the space, almost immediately locking eyes with the man of the hour. He paused as he got a good look at the boy. For the briefest of moments Haymitch was taken back, to another time, another wedding, that had taken place nearly twenty-three years ago, with a man who looked ridiculously identical to the man who was getting married today.

Peeta cleared his throat and Haymitch continued to move, forgetting that Peeta had been behind him, and together the two of them made their way to the groom.

He smiled brilliantly at them. It was the only proof that he was his mother's child – he had his mother's smile but his father's everything else: perfect blond hair, bright sea-green eyes, bronze colored skin, and the same broad shoulders.

Finn O'dair.

He was dressed _perfectly_ in his white tuxedo, one of Cinna's many designs, and Haymitch couldn't help but smirk at the fact that Finn wasn't wearing a dress shirt underneath his tuxedo jacket.

It was so utterly _Finnick_ that Haymitch felt his mouth upturn.

Finn walked up to Haymitch and Peeta, hugging them both. He didn't look the least bit worried, in fact he looked excited, which was more than Haymitch could say when he had finally married Effie, and they had had a simple toasting.

Finn was much more like Peeta had been, and figuring their stories were so similar it made sense. They had both fallen in love with their bride-to-be's at an early age.

From the minute Finn had met Jay Mellark Stenberg he was a goner, Peeta had recognized the look, the same look he'd given Katniss when he'd first met her, and Finn and Mellie had been inseparable ever since. They were the same age, both of them conceived  
around the same time during the War.

Both of them had lost people important to them, Finn in his father, Finnick, and Mellie in the sister she'd never met, Rue.

They had met at the five-year anniversary of the Second War, and really, there was no one else for Finn, or no one else for Mellie.

Haymitch stood back to get a good look at Finn, trying to reel his emotions back in. He was old now, and somehow he'd grown somewhat sentimental in his old age. It seemed like just yesterday Finn was graduating from high school and going off to the Capitol  
for school.

Now he was getting married, to the woman of his dreams, before opening his psychology practice in Four. Mellie would be opening her own aquarium, and it was all just happening so _fast_.

Ash was in his last year of graduate school, Willow and Ava were finishing up their senior year, and Ember was starting to find boys interesting, she was dating, but she was the only who had vowed to stay in Twelve forever and ever, which Haymitch was  
fine with, because he never wanted to leave.

Though Effie had been hinting at moving to Four to "retire" for a few years now, and it _did_ make sense, Four was closer to the Capitol, they were here every other month, and Ava was dead set on becoming a marine biologist. But Haymitch couldn't  
imagine leaving Katniss and Peeta, and as long as Ember wanted to stay in Twelve they would be staying put.

Still, Haymitch had agreed to look at a vacation home out here, because Effie was Effie and she would always get her way.

This place would always be home, Finn had made sure of that, they had many memories here, including the wedding that was taking place in Finn's own backyard.

The same backyard that Haymitch had surprised Effie with a vow-renewal ceremony for their ten-year anniversary.

"You look good," Haymitch told Finn, looking him over in his all white tuxedo. "I woulda worn a shirt, but…." Haymitch shrugged as the room full of groomsmen laughed. He locked eyes with Ash. "Please, son, when you get married, wear a shirt." Ash snorted.

"You good?" asked Peeta, and Finn nodded.

"I am. I'm ready. Though… I'm a little nervous." Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Not nervous, nervous. I guess... I could always use some advice? You two have been married forever. I know marriage is hard work, but... what do I _do_?" Finn's bright  
green eyes bored into Haymitch's.

Haymitch didn't immediately respond. He wouldn't consider himself a love expert by any means, he had hurt people that he loved more than he cared to admit, if anything he was a consistent screw up, and didn't deserve the people that stayed by his side.

"Always remember you're the lucky one," Haymitch finally stated. "You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve her."

Finn nodded and then looked at Peeta. "I won't even ask the Star-Crossed lovers for any advice. Everyone can't be Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

"The girl you're marrying was named after both me and Katniss," Peeta reminded Finn. "Jay for Mockingjay and Mellark for me. I don't have any real advice, but… good luck." Haymitch snorted and Finn laughed. "You'll be fine."

Haymitch and Peeta left a short while later, this time to check on Mellie, who was crowded with bridesmaids and Katniss.

The bride was _stunning_ to say the least. Her normal wild curls were in braids and they were all tied up on top of her head, a gold tiara atop her head.

The white dress she had on was perfect for her, and highlighted the golden tones of her brown skin. Her makeup was minimal, gold eyeshadow and eyeliner bringing out her light brown eyes.

Effie was applying her nude colored lipstick.

"I would _kill_ for your cheekbones," Effie stated quietly, softly applying blush. She stepped back to look over her work. "You, Jay Mellark, are a crowned jewel. You are _perfect_."

Haymitch agreed. She was naturally one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, an exact replica of Rue in the same way that Finn resembled his father. Effie had tried to convince the girl to model, but her heart was with sea, though it hadn't stopped  
Ember from turning her camera on Mellie, nor had it stopped Willow from using Mellie in her designs.

The dress Mellie was wearing wasn't a Cinna design, but a Willow Mellark original. Mellie had asked Willow to make the dress, and Willow had been honored.

Willow looked beautiful as well, dressed in her bridesmaid dress, as did Ava. The three of them had become quite close over the years, all of them were close enough in age, and they were the three musketeers.

No one could say Finn and Ash were troublemakers in comparison to Mellie, Willow, and Ava. The three of them were thick as thieves, Haymitch was finally getting payback for all the trouble he'd caused with Chaff, Finnick, Seeder, and Johanna.

It got to the point that Mellie and Finn were not allowed to visit at the same time. There were a couple of holidays where all the families got together: Mellie and Finn would come to Twelve, and then add Ash, Willow, and Ava to the mix then it was a _hurricane_.  
Ember and Rye, the _only_ calm ones out of the group, couldn't help calm the five of them down.

Add Johanssen and Abigale to the mix and it was all too much. They only planned one yearly trip for all of them get together, normally in Four, and they took all year to prepare themselves.

Finn and Mellie's wedding was this year's trip, and all hands were on deck.

"Are you ready?" Effie asked Mellie. She nodded, biting her lip nervously. "What is it, Dear?"

"I don't know," sighed Mellie. "I guess it's just a lot of pressure, living up to you two, and the Star-Crossed Lovers, _and_ my own parents…."

Peeta smiled. "Finn just basically said the same thing."

"Any advice?"

Effie knelt down so that she was eyelevel with Mellie. "Create your own love story. Understand that there is _no_ such thing as a perfect relationship. There will be good and bad, but you're promising each other for better or for worse. At its core, love is a _choice_ , Mellie. You have to choose Finn, every single day. Take it one day at a time. Understand that love is about sacrifice, but for both of you. Plan vacations. Spend time together. Don't ever be too busy for each other. And have  
fun. Travel. Be silly. Go dancing."

"Dancing?" laughed Mellie. "Trust me when I say I'm the only one in the relationship who has rhythm."

"Really? Finnick was quite the dancer in his day."

Mellie stared at her. "You used to dance with Finn's dad?"

"All the time. He had quite the crush on me." Effie smiled at the memory. "He nearly gave Haymitch a run for his money."

Mellie's head whipped towards him. " _You_ dance?"

He smirked. "I could teach you a thing or two, girl."

"I will surely take you up on that offer."

"It's your day, Mel-Belle."

She beamed at the nickname he'd given her many years ago, and then stood up, the lace dress accenting the woman she'd turned into. At that moment the door opened and in walked Sage and her husband.

"You guys better go take your seats," Sage stated with a smile. "The backyard is filling up quite quickly. Besides… we would like a moment alone with our daughter."

Haymitch nodded and he, Peeta, Katniss, and Effie all walked outside, followed by the bridesmaids, who waited by the door.

On their way to their seats Effie slipped her hand in Haymitch's. He thought of a time when he would have cowered away from such displays of affections, but now he clung to her fingers like the lifeline they were.

He found himself pulling her to him, and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss atop her head.

"That was some pretty good advice you gave Mellie," he told her.

She gave him a brilliant smile. "Love _is_ a choice, and I have _always_ chosen you."

He remained quiet, but he gave her another kiss, this time on the lips. He hadn't had _any_ choice in the matter, he thought to himself. She had kicked her way into his heart without so much as a question leaving her lips. She had _demanded_ that he let her in, had pretty much blackmailed her way into his life with her engagement to Seneca, and even then he hadn't realized how much he'd cared for her, not until he was in Thirteen and _miserable_ without her.

And then finding her in that cell… he _still_ had nightmares about that, he still had yet to fully forgive himself for that mistake, but he had spent the rest of his pathetic life making it up to her.

Haymitch had no doubt that she had chosen him. _He'd_ have continued to choose the bottle, and the solitude, until he didn't have a choice left, he had to have _her_.

She had taken away his choice, but Haymitch was okay with that now.

And thinking back over his life, and the decisions he had made, whether he was forced to or not, he would always choose her.

"If we were just starting out and getting married, what advice would you give us?" Haymitch allowed her to take her seat, and then sat down next to her.

"Knowing what we know now?" asked Effie. Haymitch nodded, and she gazed away from him for a moment, her eyes taking in the view of the ocean. She remained silent for several moments and then turned to look at him again. "I would say to forgive each other. To let the past be the past, and learn to move on from it."

Haymitch felt his heart speed up, and it floored him how she still had the ability to do that to him.

"I love you." He still had a hard time saying it. He would _always_ have a hard time saying it. But sometimes, he could say the words.

She smiled and leaned into him, making herself comfortable before the wedding. "You better."

Haymitch snorted. _Choices my ass_ , he thought with a smile.

And he still would never have it any other way.

A/N: Just a reminder, Mellie is a character from my story Rise From the Ashes. She's the sister of Rue, and I'm obsessed with her lol. Her and Finn live happily ever after, forever and ever. The end.


	276. Hiking in the Capitol

**HIKING IN THE CAPITOL**

 **Rated T+**

Effie wiped her brow, frowning. She was going to _kill_ her trainer, he swore she was in great shape, but this hike was _killing_ her. The winter day was wonderful, another perfect day orchestrated by the Capitol, but she was sweating more than she would have liked.

"Portia, slow down," Effie said, struggling to breathe. "I am not as young as I used to be."

The dark-skinned girl turned and stopped, her lips splitting into an easy smile. "Or maybe it's just been a few months since you've had any real extracurricular fun."

Effie arched an eyebrow as she finally caught up with the stylist. "I am sure I do not know what you mean."

Portia laughed. "You know _exactly_ what I mean. Why do you think I asked you on this hike? I want all the juicy details on you and Haymitch."

" _Who_?" asked Effie, plowing ahead of Portia.

"Don't _who_ me," Portia laughed. "Every time I try and ask about you and Haymitch you find a way to change the subject or disappear. You will do neither up here."

She wasn't wrong, Effie realized. Portia and Cinna were entirely too curious about her and Haymitch, they had been bombarding her with questions ever since last year's Games had ended.

Effie slit her eyes at Portia. "I will tell you about Haymitch and I if _you_ tell me about you and Cinna."

"Me and Cinna?" Portia's eyes brightened, as did her smile. "There's not much to tell. He's my soulmate," she shrugged casually.

"Well, can I get some details? Where did you meet? How long have you two been dating?"

Portia sighed softly but didn't immediately answer. Instead they continued on, climbing higher in silence for a few more minutes until they reached the top.

The view was _gorgeous_ and well worth the early rise, the sweat, and the pain she was sure would come tomorrow. She took a sip of water, letting it cool her down. She took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart, enjoying the view.

After a few moments Portia motioned for Effie to sit down. She frowned, noting that Portia's feet were dangling on the edge.

"Oh, relax," laughed Portia. "You aren't in your heels, the chances of you falling are slim to none. I'll help you." Portia held out her hand and Effie allowed her to help her sit down. "I love this place. It's so surreal, and peaceful. And void of bugs…."

Effie arched an eyebrow and Portia winked at her.

"You asked about me and Cinna…." She smiled again, taking a short sip of her own water. "We met over ten years ago, back when we were freshmen in college. We were in the same design school, and had most of the same classes. The first semester of our freshman year we had the hardest professor of all the subjects. This class would make or break you. Either you survived it, or you didn't, there was no in between. Cinna and I were paired together for a major group project that we would have to present at the end of the year."

Portia took a deep breath, a faraway look in her eyes. "Cinna and I together…. We just got each other from day one. He would have an idea and I would understand it without him even finishing. We play so well off of each other. I mean, you've seen us together. It has _always_ been like that. We worked _tirelessly_ on this project, all semester long, learning each other, and ultimately becoming fast friends. There were many late nights and early morning.

"Though we were nothing more than friends first, I fell for him, almost immediately. Cinna is still, to this day, one of the most brilliant men I have ever known. Not just in fashion, but period. And he could make me laugh like no one else. He's witty, and his sense of humor is insane. Oh, and his _body_ …. You think he's handsome now?" Portia bit her lip. "Back then Cinna had 'locs. Long, luscious dreadlocs that always smelled like coconut oil. He could make a tee-shirt and jeans look good. He was dark, and edgy. He had a nose piercing, and tattoos, and this casual I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude that made my heart skip a beat."

Effie wondered if Portia could hear how soft her voice had gotten.

"I just felt… _complete_ with him. He was a piece of a puzzle I never even knew was missing. One night, a few weeks before our assignment was due, we were up late putting the finishing touches on our project, and one thing led to another…. I still don't know how it happened, if we were just tired, stressed out, or both, but that man showed me things I never knew were possible. I promise I couldn't walk straight for a week. That man kept me up _all night long_. It was _incredible_ , Effie. _Life changing_."

Effie giggled.

"I'm not trying to talk Cinna up, but even now, that man…." Portia shook her head. "Anyway, afterwards…." Portia cringed. "He was distant. Not cold, necessarily, but… I was hurt. We had an amazing night and he just… shut down on me. Everything was completely professional, and he was very careful about us being alone together after that night. I was confused, and devastated, because I couldn't figure out what happened. It was _magical_ , Effie, but Cinna just…. I could see this… _longing_ , this desire, but he'd just snuff it out. I felt like I'd not only lost a lover but a friend. " Portia shrugged. "Fast forward to the day our professor emailed us our grades for our project. We got, not only an A, but an A+, which is damn near impossible with this professor. Cinna and I were the first people to get an A+ in her class in seventeen years."

Even now Effie could hear the pride in Portia's voice.

"Well, naturally, I went to Cinna's, ecstatic, banging on his door for a good twenty minutes. He was in the zone, I found out, painting and designing and he had his music blasting. I was like, 'Yah, who cares, have you checked your email?'" Portia laughed. "I pushed him aside, ran into his apartment, and grabbed his computer, which was in the kitchen, and told him to login. He stood there in silence for a good five minutes, Effie, and then he was screaming, and I was screaming and… one touch. That was all it took, and that man took me right there on his kitchen table…." Portia bit her lip again.

She took another sip of water, her legs swinging.

"I stayed over that night, and the next morning he woke me up, told me to get dressed, and he brought me up here, sat me down, and told me we couldn't be together. He wouldn't say _why_ , just that it was complicated, and honestly that didn't mean _shit_ to me. He just asked for my forgiveness, he apologized about a million times, told me how much he wanted to be with me, how much he'd _love_ to be with me, but he was adamant about us not being together. He would not budge. Later on I found out it was because he was worried. It was dangerous, of course it's dangerous, if he were ever caught, it was my life that would be affected and in danger. But he couldn't tell me any of those things, then, he just looked at me with those brown eyes and told me that no matter what, it wasn't happening. _We_ weren't happening."

Effie frowned as Portia frowned too.

"Cinna took me home, left me with a kiss of a lifetime, and I made it up all fifty-seven stairs to my apartment before finally breaking down. I cried for _hours_ , and I have _never_ cried over a boy in my life. I just didn't get it….

"Well I went through the normal things we women go through…. I was depressed, ate a bunch of ice cream, and cursed men's name, vowing to either become a lesbian or single for the rest of my life."

Effie laughed, because she had _certainly_ been there before.

"Anyway, when the spring semester started, Cinna was nowhere to be found. I found out he had asked to be transferred."

Effie gasped.

"I was _furious_ , Effie. Absolutely livid. I left class early and marched to his apartment. I knocked, but when no one answered, I…." Portia cringed. "I broke in, I'm not going to lie. He had this fire escape that connected with his bedroom window, so I used it."

Effie decided in that moment that she loved Portia.

"I could hear voices in the living room, so I marched down the stairs, and who else would Cinna be meeting with except with Plutarch Heavensbee? There was no reason for me to know him, he wasn't as famous as he is now, but of course I knew him. He was the man who recruited me. So I straightened my shoulders and said, 'Good afternoon, Mr. Heavensbee.' And I think he was so shocked at seeing me that he just said my name, and looked from me to Cinna. Naturally he wanted to know how Cinna and I knew each other, and I wanted to know how he knew Cinna. Cinna, of course, wanted to know how I knew Plutarch. Plutarch told Cinna he recruited me, and then told me he had recruited Cinna. And then Plutarch wanted to know how we knew each other, and Cinna said, and I quote, 'This is the woman I'm in love with.'" Portia clutched her chest. "I almost died."

Effie smiled. It all sounded so sweet. "But how did Plutrach not know you two went to school together?"

"Plutarch was just a recruiter then. He'd interview prospects and then periodically check in with us. It was Plutarch who said dating each other was fine, it might even prove as an excellent cover story, it would look less suspicious if we were a couple. We literally couldn't _wait_ for Plutarch to leave, I don't even think the door was all the way closed before we were all over each other. We've been inseparable ever since." She ended her story with a shrug, and then turned to Effie, her eyebrows raised. " _So_. Now that you know about Cinna and I, spill on you and Haymitch." Her dark eyes glittered and Effie sighed.

"There's not much _to_ much to tell," Effie said.

Portia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Some of the best sex Cinna and I have had recently is because of you and Haymitch. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife. The way he looks at you…." Portia smirked.

Effie gave a reluctant smile. "We have sex, Portia. Really, really, _truly_ good, mind-blowing sex. _A lot_." Even as she spoke flashes of their last time flashed through her mind: him, on top of her, his weight _perfect_ , the way he whispered her name in her ear as he pounded into her, the way his callused hands gripped her breasts, the way his finger curled inside of her, and the way he pulled her close after they were finished, his nose buried in her blonde hair. "It is really amazing sex," continued Effie. "But that is all it is."

Portia blinked at her, and then looked away, taking in the mountains and trees. "Wow. I just poured my heart out to you, and you can't even be _honest_ with me."

"I _am_ being honest with you, Portia, Haymitch and I… our relationship is complicated. As complicated as it gets."

Portia stared at her, coffee colored eyes against bright blue. "Haymitch is in love with you, Effie. You _know_ he is. _He_ knows he is, he's just afraid to admit it." Effie shook her head. "Didn't he tell you to break up with Seneca?"

Effie cringed. "How did you hear about that?"

"Rebels gossip too, Effie," laughed Portia. "When Cinna and I were finally assigned to Twelve, we wanted all the intel we could get on you and Haymitch. Most people were a lot more forthcoming about Haymitch. I mean he's well-known when it comes to the Rebellion. He's the brains, right? You they tried to keep quiet about. They said your involvement was minimal, but they did mention you buying time with Finnick. They made it clear that we should not listen to idle gossip about you two, which, naturally, peaked our curiosity even more. Two minutes with you two and it was _so_ obvious that you two were in love with each other."

Effie let out a long sigh. "It is easier to tell myself he does not love me. The berries… the berries change _everything_. I thought he would push me away, I thought for sure we were over, but he has hardly left my side. It does not make what is to come easy. Not in the least."

Effie stared off into the distance, finally stating aloud what she had been refusing to admit in her head.

"I am pretty sure Haymitch will no longer be Twelve's Mentor."

Portia blinked, already frowning.

"Katniss and Peeta are young, so _maybe_ we have a couple more years together, but honestly… even if Haymitch has to stay on for a couple more years until Katniss and Peeta are of age, the chances of me remaining Twelve's Escort…. I am _old_ , Portia, and the only reason I have lasted this long is because I am the only one who can control Haymitch. I am convinced the Victory Tour coming up next week will be our last moments together."

Portia reached out and clutched Effie's hand. "I'm so sorry," the designer whispered.

"I love him. I _love_ him, more than anything or anyone, but we always knew this would end in tragedy. We tried so hard. Him, more than me. I _did_ try to break away once, when I got engaged to Seneca, and I think I forced Haymitch to love me by doing that. Or at least made him take a look in the mirror and realize how he felt. He _did_ make me break it off with Seneca. He was so furious at me…." She smiled softly at the memory. "Haymitch and I… the things that man can do to me…. He is not who I would have picked for myself, I don't think. He is rude, uncouth, his behavior can be atrocious, he is a slob, and he drives me _crazy_. But he is also sweet, and selfless, and kindhearted, and giving. He can be rough, and mean, and unpredictable, and that is just with sex." Portia laughed. "That man can do things that make me forget my own name. But I do not know where we go from here, and it _hurts_. Not to mention things are certainly tense with the District Uprisings…." Effie shrugged delicately.

Effie did not know then what would happen: that the Quarter Quell would keep her and Haymitch together as Mentor and Escort, that she would be forced to draw Haymitch's name, that the Victory Tour would give them nothing but hell, that Haymitch would come to her room every single night and make love to her for two weeks straight, that she and Cinna would design a dress that would ultimately get the designer killed, that Haymitch would prove he loved her the same night he left for Thirteen, that Effie would be kidnapped and tortured in the Capitol, or that Portia would be blown up on national television.

She didn't know that it would take her a couple of years to find her way to Twelve, and forgive Haymitch for leaving her behind. She had no clue that it would take another year before Haymitch began the long process to sobriety, and it would take Effie that same year to start sleeping through the night. They would have to learn each other again, but they _would_ learn each other, they would make love, he would still make her toes curl. Her scars would eventually fade for the most part, and he would make her feel _beautiful_ again.

She would find home, and peace in Twelve, and she would get many more years with Haymitch. They would make friends with Annie, and Finn, and become God-parents to Willow and Rye. Effie would make Haymitch's house a home, their home would be the place people would come for holidays: Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Beetee, Annie, Plutarch, and even Paylor when the occasion called for it.

They would still have bad days, but they had each other to work through them.

Without knowing any of this, though, Effie sighed, her hand still locked with Portia's. She would think about this moment, two years after the War, and it would ultimately lead her to Twelve.

"I do not know what comes next. But I certainly wish that whatever it was, Haymitch and I could face it together."

A/N: This was more a Cinna/Portia story cus I'm obsessed with them and was curious about how they had met.


	277. Effie Undercover

_Prompt—"Mags is so wise I had always wanted to read more about her in the books. I have a prompt which is a different version of how H finds out about E buying time for Finnick ... what if H is snoping on E and comes across a box of forged IDs with a few bank statements. H thinks E is going to run away and wants an explanation... What do you think?" -nkneeshaw_

Loved this prompt, but didn't think Haymitch would snoop, snoop persay, so I thought of something else.

 **EFFIE UNDERCOVER**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch rummaged under her bed, finding nothing, nothing remotely close to what he was looking for. Cursing he got on his knees, checking under the mattress.

Still no liquor.

He'd checked all over her bedroom, had even checked her bathroom, and where a person would hide a bottle of liquor in there was beyond him, but she was tricky, and clever, and every time she did this, she found better and better hiding places to make it more and more difficult.

He _supposed_ he deserved it this time, he _had_ gotten particularly drunk and _might_ have gotten into a fight with a Capitol puppet who couldn't keep his _fucking_ hands off his Escort, and how the _hell_ was Haymitch supposed to know that his painted nails meant he was _gay_? Portia had painted Peeta's nails and _he_ was straight as an arrow.

It was _not_ Haymitch's fault that he made a scene, the bloke was all over Effie, and she knew damn well that wasn't allowed, he'd proven that after her engagement to Seneca, he'd been _very_ clear on that.

Okay, he'd made a complete ass of himself, and he hadn't been able to talk his way out of it, nor _fuck_ his way out of it, she refused to be amused or see reason. She hadn't screamed or shouted, she hadn't said a word, and when he'd woken up the next morning _all the liquor was gone_ , and he had _no idea_ what she did to convince _every bartender within a twenty mile radius_ not to serve him, but they all turned him down.

Which is why he was here, currently crawling around his Escort's room, looking for what he _knew_ had to be at least _one_ bottle of liquor. She never got rid of all the liquor, doing so would most likely kill him.

The last place he had to look was her closet, so he left the mattress alone and walked into the closet, filled to the brim with ridiculous dresses and even more ridiculous wigs. He pushed dresses aside, tossed shoes in the air, knocked wigs down, could feel himself close to panicking, when he grabbed a wig that didn't immediately budge. His heart soaring he pulled at the wig, but frowned when he didn't find a bottle of liquor but what looked like a security box.

It was black and inconspicuous, which Haymitch felt like was by design, so naturally his curiosity was peaked. He left the closet and made his way to the bed, sitting down and toying with the thing, attempting to get it open.

There was no code, just a lock, which Haymitch found even _more_ suspicious.

Codes you could guess. Keys? Not so much.

He wasn't sure why he was so transfixed by the box, he just felt like it would have answers for him, like why his Escort was so different, and why did even Chaff like her? Effie, who had gotten under his skin even though he _swore_ he hated her.

Haymitch tried tugging on the lock, which was stupid, of course it wouldn't budge, and right when he was about to give up he remembered his knife. He looked at the lock and thought, yah, the point of the knife might just be able to fit in it, and sure enough, it did. It took some tinkering but he finally got the lock to _click_.

Holding his breath, he opened the box.

If he thought it would hold answers for him, he was wrong.

Just questions.

Lots and lots of questions.

There were different identities in there. She looked different in every picture, but he _knew_ her, did he not? Even with the red wig, or the black wig, or the brunette wig, he knew her face, even if she looked drastically different.

He was so intrigued – not to mention confused – that he forgot the number rule when it came to sneaking: keeping your ears open. It wasn't until he heard the suppressed rage of, " _What_ do you think you are doing Haymitch Abernathy?" that Haymitch realized he was fucked.

He started at the sound of her voice, but all he could blurt out was the one thing he had been thinking: "Who _are_ you?"

Her blue eyes were flashing and she stalked into her room, slamming the door behind her. Despite the fact that she was tiny in frame she had a way of putting the fear of God into him, and he swallowed hard as she approached him. Still, he stood his ground, because he was Haymitch Abernathy, a former Quarter Quell Victor, and he'd be _damned_ if he let Effie Trinket intimidate him.

When she reached above his head and turned on the radio his heart dropped.

" _Why_ are you going through my things?"

"I was looking for some liquor," he told her honestly, "and then I found this…." He looked down at the false identities, and then looked back up at her. "What the hell _is_ this?"

She snatched the contents out of his hand and put them back in her box, slamming the lid shut.

"These are the different women I have to pretend to be, in order to buy Finnick. Effie Trinket cannot do so, but these other women can."

Haymitch gaped. "You _buy_ _Finnick_?"

"I buy _time_ with him," snapped Effie. "So he won't have to prostitute himself as much, especially since he has found Annie now, he is clearly smitten with her and hates having to cheat on her."

"But… but that's _illegal_ ," Haymitch finally stated.

"Well nothing certainly ever gets passed you." Effie reached up to her wig and started undoing it.

"Effie… what you're doing is dangerous. If Snow ever found out…." His voice trailed off as he realized how badly he would lose his shit if Snow ever got wind of this. Haymitch literally felt his knees go weak the room start to spin.

"It is no more dangerous than you and Chaff attempting to capitalize on the Urprisings in Eleven, or getting Beetee in here to run interference in our Penthouse."

Now Haymitch sat.

"They'll kill you."

Effie looked at him in the mirror, and then turned around to face him, kneeling down so that she rested in between his legs. "You have known me for twenty years, Haymitch, and hardly expected this. I am playing my part well. I do not want you to worry about me. This is why we did not tell you, because I know how protective you are."

"People I care about end up _dead_ ," he snapped.

"Well it is a good thing you do not care about me then." She got up and he grabbed her wrist, a little harder than he intended to. She cringed.

"Don't _fuck_ with me, Effie." There was a warning in his voice that Effie was afraid to argue with. "I don't take too kindly to my feelings being tossed like a child going into the Arena."

Effie sighed. "I am not brushing aside your feelings." She sat on his lap and his arms made their way around her waist. "But you are not changing my mind. I am who I am, and I have been involved much longer than you. You will either accept it, or you will not. But your decision will not change anything."

"So my opinion means nothing?"

"Your opinion means everything, Haymitch. Your decision to accept what is fact, is up to you. Now either we can be a team, and work together, or you can hate that I am involved and get over it. Either way, it will change nothing. It is not your choice to make. You and I both have a role in this Rebellion. I am just a little more covert, a little more undercover, than you are."

"This is so stupid," he whispered against her neck.

"Well there is no doubt about that. Any advice?"

Haymitch didn't have to think about it. He didn't have to ponder it. He _knew_ his answer. "Stay alive, Princess."


	278. Blood Doesn't Always Mean Family

**BLOOD DOESN'T ALWAYS MEAN FAMILY**

 **Rated M**

The phone ringing had Effie sighing in frustration.

"Let it ring," Haymitch demanded, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. By the time the phone stopped ringing Haymitch had Effie on her back, her head resting on the arm of the couch, her neck exposed. His hands were under her shirt and he was about to take it off of her when the phone started ringing again.

This time Haymitch cursed.

"It could be an emergency," Effie said, and he nodded. It could be one of the kids. Haymitch untangled himself from her, glancing at the clock and realizing that if the phone call was quick, he _might_ still be able to get that quickie from Effie before Ember came home from school.

Maybe it was Ember calling to say she was going to study at one of her friend's house after school. He was so desperate for his wife he'd be okay with Ember studying at her _boyfriend's_ house, if it meant he got to sleep with his wife.

They had been _busy_ this past couple of weeks. School had just started, and as it was Ava's first year of college they had all made their way to Four to make sure she was settled in. On top of that Finn and Mellie had just announced that they were expecting _again_ , even though she had just had Finneas earlier this year. Ash's new job had started in Twelve and they were preparing for that. And last but not least, Ember was starting her senior year, so they spent the weekend getting last minute things together for school.

Haymitch thought come Monday they'd be all over each other, only Peeta and Katniss had to go to the Capitol for Willow who was now starting her freshman year of college, so Peeta had asked Effie to run the bakery.

Effie hadn't _touched_ him, and now here it was, the second Monday of school, Peeta and Katniss were back, Ember was at school, and really he had expected to spend the _entire_ day screwing his wife's brains out, only she had to go grocery shopping, and the office needed cleaning, and she might as well change their bedroom around since fall would be here any day now.

Finally, with a little less than an hour left before school was out, Haymitch had demanded that Effie make a little bit of time for him because doing it _alone_ was nowhere near as satisfying.

They'd been _so close_ , and now the _bloody phone_ wouldn't stop ringing.

"Hello, Ava, how was the Capitol?" asked Effie. "Did you make it back to Four safely? You were supposed to call when you got home." Haymitch rolled his eyes. They could chat later, they did not need to discuss the fact that Willow, in her first week in the Capitol, already had connects, and had invited Ava down for the weekend so that they could attend a movie premiere together.

He was _horny_.

"Wait, slow down. What are you saying exactly?" Haymitch could hear the frown in Effie's voice and he looked up from the couch. Effie had frown lines on her face, so Haymitch took that as his cue. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen and stood next to Effie. "You are bringing somebody _here_?"

Haymitch grabbed the phone, ignoring the scowl on Effie's face. "Angel? It's Dad. What's goin' on?"

"Dad, I'm still in the Capitol and I've met someone. I'm bringing them home."

Haymitch just blinked. "What do you mean you _met_ someone?"

"It's too hard to explain over the phone," Ava stated. "We're on our way now. Daddy, I want you and Mom to be open minded, okay? Can you call Caius and make sure nobody freaks out?"

"You want me to call my Chief of Security?"

"To make sure no one freaks out," repeated Ava. And then –"You guys know I would never hurt you, right? That anything I do is because I love you?"

Haymitch felt his throat go dry. "Ava—"

"Listen, the reception is starting to get bad, but we'll be there in a few hours. I'll see you guys soon, okay? And remember, keep an open mind. I love you. Tell Mom bye."

And then she hung up.

Haymitch placed the phone back on the receiver, frowning. He stared at his wife, as if Effie held all the answers. Ava was the unpredictable one. Where Ash was focused and Ember was grounded, Ava had always been the wild card. She was all over the place, the perfect blend of Haymitch and Effie. Ash was Haymitch, Ember was Effie, but Ava was as unpredictable as both Haymitch and Effie combined.

"What do you think she means by it?" asked Effie.

"Don't know, do I?" Haymitch went to the fridge and grabbed a water, still frowning. It felt off. The whole thing felt off. "She wants me to call Caius to make sure no one freaks out. That's a red flag right there."

"Maybe she met a celebrity," Effie thought, more so to herself than Haymitch.

Haymitch thought about that. Calling Caius because she had met a celebrity would make sense….

When the phone rang again Haymitch snatched it off the receiver, only this time it was Ember.

"Hey, we got assigned a book report at school, is it okay if I go over Fanta's for a couple of hours?"

"Yah," Haymitch said. He preferred it actually, though now it was for a different reason other than getting his wife naked. Fanta was Ember's best friend, they'd grown up together and had been attached at the hip since kindergarten. "Call us when you get there, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Ember. They hung up, and Haymitch felt better for having Ember at Fanta's for a few hours.

"Do you think we should tell the children?" Effie asked, her voice slightly worried. Haymitch thought about it. Despite the fact that they still referred to Katniss and Peeta as children, the two of them were very much capable of handling themselves, and with Willow being away at school, Haymitch didn't feel too bad about talking to them.

"If they can find somewhere safe for Rye, then yah. If I can't call Caius I'd rather have them." Haymitch picked up the phone, calling Katniss, who picked up after a couple of rings. "Hey, Sweetheart, listen, don't panic, okay? Is there a place Rye can go to after school?" He glanced at his wife. "Effie and I might have a situation."

…

When Ava opened the door, she couldn't say she was all that surprised to see Uncle Peeta and Aunt Katniss, both of them with their weapons visible. She _was_ annoyed to see Blanco, the Junior Chief of Staff, as opposed to Caius.

Ava saw the relief on both of her parent's faces when Ash walked in behind her.

"Ava," breathed Effie, approaching her and embracing her. Both Haymitch and Effie looked her over, noted she didn't look any different than when they'd dropped her off in Four.

Haymitch looked at his son. "You know what's going on?"

He nodded, looking a little grimmer than Haymitch liked. "She called me and asked me to come down."

Effie whirled on Ash. "You left to the Capitol?"

He nodded. "Last night. It's been a _long_ night." He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know how you two are going to react." He looked up and saw Katniss and Peeta. "How _any_ of you are going to react."

"React to _what_?" snarled Haymitch.

Ash didn't answer, he just sighed and moved aside.

Haymitch and Effie just stared.

For a very, very long time, without saying a word.

Effie grabbed Haymitch's hand, her grip tight.

"Tell me what you wanna do, Princess. It's up to you. It's your call."

Effie took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I… I think I would like to sit down. I think I _should_ sit down." Haymitch slid his arms around her waist, helping her to the kitchen table. She was paler than he liked, and she was shaking.

"Tell me what you want," murmured Haymitch, cupping her cheek and keeping a close eye on her. The last thing he wanted was for her to have a panic attack.

She looked at him, her eyes pained, and she took another deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed. "Let them come in," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"No," snorted Effie, "but I have you to pick up the pieces. You _always_ pick up the pieces." He placed a kiss to her wrists, and then her lips.

Haymitch stood up, looking at the people who were about to be their guests. It could be for a few seconds, or a few days, Effie would be the judge.

With a simple wave of his hand Katniss, Peeta, and Blanco finally moved, heading towards the door.

"Blanco, you stay," Haymitch said, keeping his eyes on the people in front of him. Blanco stilled, his gun visible. "Katniss and Peeta, I want you two on the porch until I tell you it's okay." They nodded, Peeta and Katniss making their exits, their faces pretty much unreadable.

Haymitch motioned to the table, keeping his emotions in check. Ash stood next to Effie, and Ava took the seat across from her mother. Their two guests slowly made their way to the table, and then sat down.

Haymitch looked at his daughter, his unpredictable wild child, his eyes dark. "Spill," was all he said, and taking a deep breath, Ava started talking.

…

Cleara Trinket still looked very much like the Capitol woman Haymitch remembered. She was still fucking ridiculous. Her hair was lavender, with diamonds and pearls intertwined. From what Haymitch could tell she hadn't really aged in the twenty-five years since the War ended. He could also tell she hadn't aged because she had had work done, she was much too plastic to be real.

Treadmont looked like he might have had a little work done, but nothing in comparison to his wife. Men were not judged nearly as harshly as women were. His hair was salt-and-pepper, but with hints of lavender, as if he had let his natural color grow out while Cleara had continued to dye hers. His beard was trimmed neatly, his mustache perfect.

They were both dressed like they still had more money than God, and Haymitch figured they did. Some Capitol citizens would always be untouchable, that was the way it worked.

Cleara looked at Haymitch with quiet disdain, her shocking blue eyes the same shade as Effie, but the comparison stopped there. Effie's eyes could turn to the iciest blue when she was furious, but for the most part her eyes were warm, and kind, and looked at him with adoration she not only refused to hide from him but no longer had to.

Her father's eyes were darker than Cleara's, but definitely held a little bit of warmth. He didn't stare at Haymitch with disgust or disdain, but quiet indifference.

Haymitch wasn't sure which one was worse.

"As you both know, I attended a movie premiere with Willow this past weekend," Ava started. "We had a blast, really, it was so much fun." Haymitch folded his arms across his chest. "Anyway, at the end of the night, right when the movie had ended, these two approached me." Haymitch felt his fingers twitch, itching for the knife he _still_ kept behind him, even if he did lock it away at night. "They looked at me like I was the bloody ghost of Christmas past."

"We thought she _was_ a ghost." Cleara Trinket cleared her throat, and locked eyes with her daughter. "She looks _so_ much like you, Euphemia. _So much like you_. We thought… for the briefest moment, we thought it _was_ you. We _hoped_ …." Her voice trailed, and Treadmont picked up the story.

"We walked up to her, and naturally we called your name, Euphemia."

Ava cleared her own throat. "When I didn't answer, he reached out and touched me, and I turned around. They just _stood_ there, and I did too, because I _knew_ the face looking back at me."

Haymitch stared at his daughter. He understood how the older couple might have mistaken Ava for their daughter. She was a spitting image of Effie, from the blonde hair to the blue eyes and long legs. There was no trace of Haymitch in her, save for her attitude and smirk. All of his kids had inherited his signature smirk.

How or why Ava would recognize Cleara Trinket was beyond him.

"Effie looks _nothing_ like her," Haymitch stated coldly.

"Haymitch." The warning was quiet, and had Haymitch glancing at Effie. She stared straight ahead, though, and didn't look at him.

"You look _nothing_ like her. You are _nothing_ like her."

"She is more like me than she is like you." The words spoken from Cleara's mouth had Haymitch snarling.

"Wanna bet?"

"What are you two doing here?" Effie still hadn't raised her voice, but all the attention turned to her.

"What are we _doing_ here?" asked an affronted Cleara. "Euphemia all this time we thought you were _dead_. We thought you were _dead_! One minute everything was great, the next that Arena explodes and _nothing_ has been the same since. You disappeared for _months_ without telling _anybody_ where you were—"

"She was kidnapped and tortured," Haymitch spat.

"Do not interrupt me when I am speaking," snapped Cleara.

"Wait," Ava interrupted, noticing her father's face darkening. "Let's not fight."

"We are not trying to be disagreeable," said Treadmont, clearly trying to be the voice of reason. Haymitch snorted and Treadmont shot him a look. "We just want answers." He stared at his daughter. "We didn't know what happened to you, Effie. All this time…." He took a deep breath, and Haymitch saw it, the flicker of love there. "You _did_ disappear. We had no idea that you were being tortured, we had no reason to suspect…. When you came back…." Again, his voice trailed. "When we were alerted of your return, we came to you, but you were _different_. You pushed us away."

"Didn't think to push back? You didn't think to _help_ her?" Haymitch could feel his anger spiraling, knew he would lose it soon.

"We _tried_ ," said Cleara, clearly offended of being accused of not caring about her daughter.

"They are right," Effie said, _finally_ looking at Haymitch. "I _did_ push them away. I did not want their help. Nobody could help me. Nobody but you. You were the _only_ person whose help I wanted or needed."

Haymitch reached for her and she gripped him, pulling him near.

"They looked for you," proclaimed Ava quietly, staring at her mother.

"We did. We even hired a private detective," Treadmont explained. "He searched for you for a year, and we never found you. We even looked in other Districts, but we…." He glanced at Haymitch and looked away.

"You never imagined that your daughter would fall for the barbaric, District _drunk_ ," mocked Haymitch.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, _yes_ ," Cleara hissed.

Treadmont flinched. "Effie's attraction to you was a school-girl crush." His blue eyes rested on the wedding rings they both wore. "Or so we thought."

Effie took a shuddering breath. "I will ask only one more time: what are you doing here?"

"They've been worried," Ava answered.

Effie shook her head. "No. That is not right."

"It _is_ ," insisted Treadmont.

"Perhaps you _were_ worried, but that worry only came recently. Before, you were fine."

"Before we thought you were _dead_."

"You were worried I was being held here against my will. You thought you would show up, pretend to play the hero, and catch me, what? Miserable? Did you fancy you would come to Twelve and assume I have been held prisoner for the past twenty-five years?"

Their silence was confirmation.

"Did you think the barbaric District Victor _raped_ me?"

Ava gasped.

"What, did it take seeing our son for you to get it?"

Treadmont looked stressed. "I admit, seeing him was a shock. When Ava mentioned inviting her brother down…. _One_ Abernathy could mean… but two?" He shrugged, delicately. "I mean it is possible, of course, but nowhere near as likely."

"You thought my father _raped_ my mother?" Ash's voice was shaking with rage. "Are you fucking _stupid_?"

Ash was the best thing that had ever happened to him, Haymitch decided in that moment.

Cleara turned to Effie. "You would let him talk to us like that?"

"Do you really believe the things coming out of your mouth?"

"Do not be so shocked. If we had met him first, we would have been sure of it," said Cleara. She looked at Ash. "Euphemia never wanted children, she had made that quite clear for _years_ , and for you to be twenty-five, that meant you would have been born right at the start of the War. The thought of our precious daughter ever—"

"Watch it." Effie had never raised her voice, but Cleara Trinket looked like she'd been slapped. "Haymitch _never_ forced me into _anything_. _Capitol_ men certainly wanted to, and a few of them tried. But Haymitch? If anything, I forced myself on him. I fell for him, and quite hard, too, and I tend to get what I want. He hardly had any say in the matter."

Haymitch could tell it was quite a shock, hearing her talk like that.

"Effie, why did you just _leave_? Can you _blame_ us for assuming the worst when all this time we thought you were dead, and then we see an exact replica of you walking around?" Treadmont implored his daughter to see reason. "Why did you not call, or write? Something? _Anything_? You _literally_ disappeared one day, and never to return. If you had asked us to leave you be, we would have. But twenty-five years of not knowing… it can _destroy_ a man, Effie."

"I know the feeling," muttered Haymitch, and all eyes fell on him. "Your Capitol kidnapped her, and she was missing for _months_. I didn't know, I had no clue. I was in Thirteen, and even when I finally got the news that she was missing it was still _weeks_ before I found her. When I did, I…." Effie gripped his hand, hard. "That was only a few weeks. I couldn't imagine…." He glanced at Effie, searching her eyes, and she dropped her hand.

"I let everyone assume you were dead," Effie admitted, and Cleara leaned back in her chair, her eyes wide with shock. "It was easier that way," and she was speaking to Haymitch, not her parents. "I wasn't the daughter they wanted, and they were not the people I needed to help me."

"What the bloody hell do you mean you were not the daughter we wanted? Effie—"

"I was a Rebel," stated Effie matter-of-factly.

They both just stared at her, like they had no idea who she was, which Haymitch found to be the saddest part of this whole thing.

"For how long?" Cleara whispered.

"Since I was sixteen." And as if she anticipated her mother, Effie added, "Long before I met Haymitch."

Cleara had paled considerably since they had gotten there. She looked at her husband, who seemed to only have eyes for his daughter.

"I am not even all that surprised," said Treadmont, his smile strained.

But he could not hide the disappointment in his voice.

"That you would willingly be involved in the downfall of not just the Capitol, but your mother and I—"

"And you would willingly be involved in the downfall of innocent lives…." Effie shrugged, indifferently.

Treadmont gave her a slow, sad smile. "Our coming here changes nothing, will it?"

"There is nothing _to_ change. I am who I am, the same way you two are who you are."

Treadmont nodded and stood. "Come along, Cleara." She stood up, staring at Effie with something close to pity. They both made their way to the door, no one saying anything.

Before exiting, Cleara turned around. "There is no room for a _Rebel_ in our house. But there is _always_ room for our daughter."

Effie stood. "I made my decision on who I wanted to be when I left without a goodbye. You will not get one now. You know that I am alive. You know that I am happy. Let that be enough."

At that moment the front door opened, and in walked Ember, her backpack swung over one shoulder. She stopped and stared at the two strangers, and then her eyes searched for her parents.

"Aunt Kantiss said you guys didn't say I couldn't come in," she said. She glanced back at the two people in their ridiculous clothes and her eyes darted to her mother's. "What's going on?"

Haymitch didn't even know where to begin to start.

"You look just like your mother, Dear," Cleara sighed. She glanced at Ava again, and then looked at Ember.

"Except for the eyes. I got my father's eyes."

"Pity," said Cleara, and Haymitch jerked, a scowl on his face.

Ember frowned. "They are the best thing about me. At least that's what everyone tells me. My sister and I get mistaken for twins all the time, but people know I'm me because of my eyes."

"Blue is a much better color," Cleara said.

"Do _not_ criticize my daughter the same way you used to criticize _me_!" _Now_ Effie raised her voice. Ember's eyes widened, and she stared at the woman with the purple hair and her own mother. "Get the _hell_ out, and do _not_ come back. If either of you ever step foot in this District again, I will have you arrested."

Treadmont's mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't."

" _Try me_."

The two of them left then, and Blanco exited behind them, making sure they got on the train back to the Capitol, per Haymitch's request. Katniss and Peeta came back inside, and everyone crowded around Effie.

"I am _so_ sorry," whispered Ava. "I thought I was helping." Her eyes welled with tears. "They are family." She paused. "At least they were supposed to be."

"Blood doesn't always mean family," Haymitch muttered.

Later, much later, when Ash had left back to his apartment in Town, when Ava was back on a train to Four, and when Ember was finally in bed, after Peeta had called nearly a dozen times to make sure Effie was okay, Effie and Haymitch made their way to their own room.

The minute their bedroom door was closed Haymitch pinned her against the wall, his mouth on top of hers before she could even properly draw a breath. His hands immediately started fumbling with his fly.

"Haymitch, I do not want—"

"Yah? Well that's too _fucking_ bad, because I need it." Haymitch had his hand cupped to her center, her body jerking, when his words hit him. "That probably sounded a lot like _rape_ , huh?"

Effie froze and pushed him back, looking at him. His breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking. "I was not about to say no. I was about to say I did not want you against our bedroom door, but on top of me." She walked to him, pushing him to the bed. "Do _not_ let them do this. This is our _home_."

Her mouth was around him before he could say anything, and they spent the next _several_ hours comforting each other with their bodies, Haymitch's hand around her mouth as to not wake their daughter, though they weren't sure they quite succeeded.

Afterwards, Effie lay on top of him, emotionally and physically spent.

"They are _not_ my family," she whispered into the night. "They are _not_. I have _chosen_ my family." She looked at him. "I love you. I _love_ you. I have _no_ regrets. There is _nothing_ appealing about them, or their life, or their stupid citizenship."

Haymitch stared at him. "I don't doubt it, Princess."

"There is _nothing_ I would not have done for you. Being an Escort… picking all those names. I did so under Plutarch's orders, I was _assigned_ to it, and it _killed_ me. Every year, it killed me. I feel like a piece of my soul went with those children, every year."

"I know." He kissed her, hard.

"I _chose_ you," Effie said, climbing back on top of him. "I chose you."

And he was damned glad for it, too.

Blood _didn't_ always mean family.

He thought of Katniss and Peeta, the way Katniss had gripped Effie's shoulder in comfort, the way Peeta had rummaged around the kitchen for tea. He thought of how pissed Jo was when they told her, how Annie had insisted on coming down for a few days, and would be here next weekend, with Ava in tow.

No, blood didn't always mean family. But family didn't always mean blood, either.

They were living proof of that.

* * *

A/N: Do NOT ask me why but this is easily in my top five of all time. MAYBE my top two. Also, this takes place about a year after "Twenty-Five Million" (Chap 109).


	279. Quarter Quell Viewing

_Prompt— "_ _May I prompt? I know that in the film they don't show the part when Peeta and Katniss watch Haymitch's Quarter Quell, but it's in the books. Haymitch watches from behind without them knowing and then he speaks to them, acting less affected than the kids had expected. Could you please write a one-shot where Effie and Haymitch watch his Quarter Quell together before to find out a way to help the children? Or perhaps you could rewrite the scene to have both Effie and Haymitch watching the Second Quarter Quell with Katniss and Peeta? Comfort, sudden understanding towards Haymitch and stuff. :) THANKS!" -_ _NicoleCollard_

 **QUARTER QUELL VIEWING**

 **Rated T**

Effie had just put the tape in and walked back to the couch when Haymitch stumbled in. Six pairs of eyes followed him as he made his way next to Effie, sitting next to her, a bottle in his hand.

" _What_?" he snarled at their looks.

"We didn't expect you is all," stated Effie softly.

He sighed and sat back. "I'm the only one who hasn't watched their Games yet. Chaff has watched his. Finnick has watched his. Seeder and Johanna watched theirs."

"You don't have to," Cinna said. "We'll take thorough notes, and between the three of us, we can help Katniss and Peeta."

Haymitch shook his head. "I have to do this. I _should_ do this. What we have planned for the Quarter Quell is damn near gonna be impossible, and if watching my Games will help…." Haymitch shrugged, going for indifferent, but Effie saw the way his hands shook when he lifted the bottle to his lips.

He wasn't supposed to be drinking, but Effie didn't think now was the time to remind him.

"I think you're very brave," stated Portia, reaching over and grabbing his hand. He didn't cower away from her, though it was tempting.

"Okay, that's enough touching," Cinna said, and Haymitch smirked at Cinna.

"Right. Like you don't see Effie naked every other second."

Cinna shrugged. "No more than you do, I'm sure," the designer stated smoothly, taking a sip of his own wine.

Haymitch lifted his bottle, nearly a full smile forming on his lips.

It was gone the minute his Games started. They all took notes, sometimes pausing the Game to discuss something.

"The Arena is a weapon," said Effie thoughtfully as the end neared. "The Arena is a weapon…." She started going through her notes, chewing on her lip.

"What are you thinking, Princess?"

"I do not know yet," Effie stated. "Give me a minute." She continued rummaging through her notebook. "Beetee and Wiress used the Arena to their advantage, correct?"

"Yah…." Haymitch glanced at Cinna, who shrugged. Effie jotted down, ' _Forcefield_ ' in her pretty script, and then continued watching the footage, frowning.

Haymitch didn't take any notes, he kept it all in his head, but he noticed Effie, Portia, and Cinna writing down periodically.

When it got to him finding Maysilee, he took that as his cue and got up.

"Where's her token?" Haymitch heard Portia ask.

"It was removed, years ago," Effie responded absentmindedly.

"What?" asked Cinna. "When?"

"I am not one hundred percent sure," Effie admitted. "I remember for the ten-year anniversary of Haymitch's Games that it was still there. But I also know last year you had to sneak the pin on Katniss. I know Haymitch's Games have been playing since the Quarter Quell announcement, and I do not recall seeing it then."

Cinna sat back, clearly thoughtful. "Did anyone say anything about your Mockingjay wig?"

"Besides you and Haymitch?" asked Effie dryly. "No. Mockingjays are _in_."

"So why was Maysilee's token removed?" Portia asked.

"Because it's a symbol that now represents Katniss," stated Haymitch. "Which is _why_ that wig you wore better be burned." His eyes bore into hers and she averted her eyes, not yet ready to hear another lecture from him.

This time it was Cinna writing furiously in his own notebook, looking way too thoughtful for Haymitch's tastes. He made his exit, not too keen on watching Maysilee die – he saw that enough in his dreams as it was, thank you very much – and he could feel Effie's eyes on him as he left.

She would find him later on. She always did.

For now, he had had enough.


	280. Ash's Halloween Party

A/N: My new posting schedule is Mondays and Thursdays, but it's Friday the 13th LOL. It only makes sense that I start to put you in the mood for Halloween. :)

* * *

 **ASH'S HALLOWEEN PARTY**

 **Rated T**

Effie and Peeta were chatting away when the front door opened. Ash didn't make it all the way inside before he had stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth open as he took in the sight before him.

Effie imagined they looked quite ridiculous.

There was stuff _everywhere_ , Effie was dressed in one of Haymitch's shirts and a pair of his sweats, her hair in a messy bun, and her glasses rested on top of her head. Peeta looked equally ridiculous, he had paint on his face and his shirt, and he had a pumpkin in his lap.

Ash recovered rather quickly, closing the door behind him and dropping his backpack next to the door.

"You guys look busy," he said, his voice deep. It still shocked Effie sometimes, that her son was a _man_ now, seventeen going on eighteen. He was in his last year of high school, he would be going off to college soon, and she and Haymitch had accepted that that college would probably end up being in the Capitol.

"We have had quite the day," admitted Effie, offering Ash her cheek so she could kiss it. "Your father and Katniss are watching the kids at their house. You can help yourself to a snack, and then you can start on your homework."

"It's Friday," he reminded her.

"Yes, and tomorrow we are having your Halloween party, and Sunday you will be cleaning up your Halloween party."

Ash sighed but nodded, heading to the kitchen to grab a snack.

He had practically _begged_ Effie and Haymitch for the Halloween party, he said it was his last year of high school, he _had_ to go out with a bang, and would they please, please, _please_ just grant him this _one_ request? Effie and Haymitch had discussed it, and after realizing Ash had never given them any trouble and was a straight A student, they thought they would allow him to have his party.

The first person he invited was Finn.

It was at that moment Haymitch threatened to divorce her, and she couldn't blame him.

The good news was that having Finn in town meant Annie would be here, and they would need _plenty_ of supervision on deck with horny teenagers. Haymitch and Effie had two ground rules: no booze, and no drugs, they would be firm on that.

"And don't think I don't know every trick there is about hiding booze, I've done them _all_ ," Haymitch had grumbled, and Ash had rolled his eyes.

"Relax, I don't hang out with anybody who does that sort of thing. Now _I_ have one request," stated Ash, and both Effie and Haymitch had stared at the oldest son like he was crazy for trying to make demands. "No kids allowed."

They had agreed, but it had caused the blow up of a _century_ between Willow and Ash, she was furious to be excluded, but they were in a strange place right now: Willow was only twelve and Ash was about to be eighteen, they were at an awkward stage in their friendship. She had been giving him the silent treatment for _weeks_ , proof that she was the daughter of Katniss Everdeen. Effie thought Willow would come around by the time of the party, but it was _tomorrow_ , and the girl didn't seem like she would budge.

"How's my costume coming along?" asked Ash, taking a bite of yogurt.

"It will be finished in time for tomorrow," Effie stated distractedly.

"You sure?"

At that moment Haymitch walked inside, looking slightly harassed. He didn't say a word to anybody, he didn't even close the door, he just marched up to Effie, yanked her to him, and kissed her, hard. Peeta covered his eyes and Ash groaned.

"Would you two get a _grip_?" snapped Ash once he heard his mother moan.

Haymitch held up a finger, asking for another moment, and then he pulled away. Effie felt lightheaded, and like she could drag Haymitch to the nearest broom closet and have her way with him.

"Is it over?" Peeta practically whined.

"Yah," smirked Haymitch. "At least for right now."

"I'm outta here," Peeta said.

Haymitch snorted.

"What was that for?" asked Effie, looking at Haymitch.

"Sorry, Princess. It was either you, or a bottle. The kids are _crazy_."

Effie cringed. "I am sorry. We have about another couple of hours, but we can take a break?" She looked at Peeta and he nodded.

"I just need a few minutes," Haymitch said. "How are things going here?"

"We're just painting the pumpkins right now so they can dry. Then we want to start on the lights."

"And what about Ash's costume?"

Effie rolled her eyes. "He just asked me the same thing. The Iron Man Suit will be finished by tomorrow." Superheroes had come back into style like never before, and Ash, with his love of flying, had absolutely lost his mind over a superhero that could fly. Why he hadn't picked Superman or any _other_ flying superhero was beyond her, until she had asked him why Iron Man of _all_ heroes, and Ash, his blue eyes twinkling said,

"Come on, doesn't Robert Downey, Jr's Tony Stark _somewhat_ remind you of Dad?"

Ash had been on her about this suit for _months_ , it was ridiculous.

"I do not even know why you are so worried, Jewel will like you no matter what you wear."

" _Mom_ ," blushed Ash. "For the _thousandth_ time, Jewel and I are just friends."

"But you _like_ her, at least a lot more than the other girls you are juggling." Effie narrowed her eyes, and he knew what was coming next. "I do not know _why_ you cannot be more like your father, he did not feel the need to play the field."

Ash gave Effie his most charming smile. "C'mon. Dad didn't date because of everything that happened to him, but dad _still_ gets action. You should see the women who throw themselves at him whenever we're in Town."

"Excuse me?" asked Effie.

"Oh, don't worry Mom. Dad _never_ notices. But dad would have been a heart breaker in another life. You should have heard the girls when we watched his Games in class last year." Ash rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure most of the girls who date me do so 'cause of Dad."

Effie shot Haymitch a _look_.

"I've literally don't _nothing_ except try to escape my kids for a few minutes. I came in here and gave you the kiss of a lifetime instead of heading to the nearest bar, and I'm _still_ about to get in trouble? How is that fair?"

"Mom it's not like _you_ can talk. Rumor has it I get my player ways from you."

Effie stilled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Were you not engaged to a man by the name of Samspon or something? Some _ugly_ man with a funny beard? I'm pretty sure you got engaged to him while you were dating Dad." He smiled smugly.

"First of all, his name was _Seneca_ , and he was _not_ ugly." Haymitch glared at her. "Second of all, your father and I had never made each other any promises at the time, and he was not in the right mindset to support me emotionally. _Third_ of all, I only got engaged to Seneca to make your father jealous, and it worked." This time she smiled smugly while Haymitch scowled.

"Anyway, if all the girls date me 'cause of Dad, then all my guy friends are my friends 'cause of you. They _all_ have crushes on you."

"They're idiots. All of them. Every single one of them." Haymitch folded his arms across his chest, his face dark. Ash and Effie laughed, Effie walking up to him.

"I love that even after all this time, you are jealous." She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Okay enough of that talk," Ash said, waving it away. "Can we go over the menu?"

They all turned to Peeta, who stood up, wiping the paint of his pants.

"I'm making chocolate cupcakes, shaped like spiders. We'll also have vanilla cupcakes with orange frostings, dressed like pumpkins. There will also be s'more cupcakes, with the marshmallows masquerading as cobwebs. We'll have plenty of candy, including bark with ghost shapes, mint chocolate bat bites with Oreos, and slow-cooked Halloween hot chocolate."

"And how's Aunt Katniss doing with the music?"

"I think she found a good mix of things."

Ash smiled. "You guys are the best, seriously." He grabbed his bag by the door. "I'm gonna get started on my homework. I'll be down to help as soon as I'm done."

When Ash was upstairs Peeta looked at Effie and Haymitch. "You guys ready for this?"

Haymitch sighed. "Not at all."

He couldn't for the life of him figure out what was so _happy_ about Halloween.

* * *

A/N: Will probably be a part 2 showing the party.


	281. True Love's First Kiss

A/N: DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THE NEW TRAILER FOR BLACK PANTHER?! OMG OMG OMG OMG ERRR MYYY GODDD! #LongLiveTheKing. My body is READY for February 16, 2018 hunty.

* * *

" _After they start sleeping together, the first time they share a kiss?" –Guest_

 **TRUE LOVE'S FIRST KISS**

 **Rated T**

They were no strangers to kissing, it happened, and it happened _a lot_.

Haymitch remember the first _real_ kiss they shared, though.

Not the kiss-you-to-shut-you-up kiss, or the heat-of-the-moment kiss, or the let's-fuck-each-other-senseless kiss, but _the_ kiss, the kiss that rocked his world and pulled the rug from under him and made him stare at her until he couldn't anymore, until he'd retreated to his room and drank until the room was spinning.

It was the 71st Hunger Games, nothing much was different. It wasn't something out of some _stupid_ Disney fairytale, Effie didn't round a corner and suddenly look different; she actually looked just as ridiculous as ever, this year the Capitol seemed to favor _ruffles_ , and it did _nothing_ for Effie's figure, and that was quite difficult figuring his Escort was quite _hot_.

He was at the same lame Capitol party with the same lame ass Capitol puppets, and as usual, Haymitch was bored to tears and ready to ditch the party and head to a bar where he could get shit faced drunk, only they had to wait for Finnick and Effie to stop _flirting_.

"Stop sulking," teased Chaff, a glass in his hand. "You know your Escort only has eyes for you."

"She's not _my_ Escort," Haymitch muttered. It was an age-old argument that held absolutely no heat anymore, not since she'd gotten engaged to Seneca a few years ago and he had thrown a _fit_ , he was pretty sure all of the Capitol knew he'd made them break up, but most of him didn't even _care_. "Why does Finnick have to dance so close?"

Chaff barked out a laugh. "They are discussing something important, Mate, have I taught you nothing over the years?" Haymitch frowned and looked at Finnick and Effie, dancing together in the middle of the dancefloor. Haymitch noted the way Finnick's mouth was near Effie's ear.

"It's a good thing his girl isn't here to see the way he fawns over Effie," muttered Haymitch. "One could get the wrong idea."

"Annie can't travel, you know that, and if she could she would know that Finnick is not hers, but the Capitol's, and has been since he turned eighteen a few years ago. That's probably what Finnick and Effie are talking about now."

Haymitch jerked, spilling some of the liquor in the glass he had.

" _What_?" snapped Haymitch.

"What, didn't you know?"

"Know _what_?" Haymitch growled.

Chaff blinked, and then frowned. "I thought for sure Finnick would have told you."

"What, that he's _fucking_ my Escort?"

Chaff gaped. "That he's _what_? Haymitch are you crazy?" Chaff stepped closer to Haymitch. "Of course Finnick isn't screwing Effie. I don't know who'd be more devastated that you thought that, even for a second. Yah, there are Escorts here who would probably jump at the chance to sleep with Finnick. You _know_ your Escort's different. Effie doesn't _sleep_ with Finnick. She buys time with him so he _doesn't_ have to prostitute himself every time he comes to the Capitol."

Haymitch replayed that sentence in his mind for the rest of the night, so much so that he didn't even bother going out with Seeder, Chaff, and Finnick, he just went back to the Penthouse so he could take a moment and _think_.

His _Escort_ was buying time with Finnick so he _wouldn't_ have to sleep with other women.

He'd never heard of anyone doing such a thing, but he knew it was dangerous, he knew without a doubt that it was _stupid_ and would get her killed if Snow – if _anyone_ – ever found out.

He heard her come in earlier than she would have – probably checking up on him because he'd left early, and not to go to the bar like normal.

She stepped off the elevator, stopping when she saw him on the couch.

"Are you all right?" she asked, and he saw her cringe. They didn't ask each other questions like that, because it wasn't supposed to matter, never mind that it _did_.

Haymitch shrugged, standing up and walking towards her. If she was going to ask, then so was he. "Are you sure you know what you're doin'?"

Effie arched an eyebrow. "In regards to what, exactly?"

He pulled her to him, brushing his lips against her ear. "Buying time with Finnick."

Effie stiffened in his arms, pushing him back. "He told you?"

"Nah. Chaff did. My real question is, why didn't I hear it from you?"

"I was afraid you would try to stop me," she confided honestly.

Haymitch shrugged. "It _is_ dangerous, and I can't say I like it. But it's also incredibly brave. _Stupid_ , sure, but brave, too." Effie remained silent. "Why'd you do it?"

"I got tired of watching the Capitol destroy people I care about."

Haymitch reached out and caressed her cheek, wishing he could wipe some of the makeup off of her. It was a mask, nothing but a mask, and it was time he admitted that.

"You are not mad?" asked Effie carefully.

He leaned down and kissed her, his lips seeking answers to questions he didn't even know he was asking. It took all of three seconds to know he was in deep _shit_ , and would probably never get out of it, and he wasn't even sure he _wanted_ to get out of it at this point. They tasted familiar, warm, _inviting_ , but what she was inviting him he wasn't sure, nor did he think it was a good idea to try and find out.

He backed away from her, staring at her for several moments, and she couldn't quite mask the emotions in her eyes.

She had never been able to hide from him.

He wouldn't address the feelings she had – or he had, for that matter –he _couldn't_ , so he turned away and headed back to his bedroom, drinking until he'd convinced himself he wouldn't remember this, because it wasn't something he should remember, only things were never really the same after that night.

 _Fuck_ he was in deep _shit_.


	282. Secret Among Lovers

_Consider this a missing moment in my AU soulmate fiction (Chap 257). I wanted to address Cinna finding out that Hayffie were soulmates._

 **SECRET AMONG LOVERS**

 **Rated K**

Cinna knocked on Haymitch's door and waited for the rough "Come in." Cinna did as he was told and entered Haymitch's room to find him nearly dressed.

"I have your shirt," Cinna stated, handing it to Haymitch.

The older man grumbled out a thank you and grabbed his shirt. Cinna glanced at the mark on Haymitch's arm and nearly jerked. Not a lot caught him off guard, but this certainly did.

"Is that your soulmark?" asked Cinna as casually as he could, taking in the details and the shape.

Haymitch absentmindedly glanced at his arm and shrugged. "Yah."

"It's interesting," commented Cinna. "May I see it?"

Haymitch stared at him suspiciously. "If you tell me you have the same one on your body somewhere, I _will_ kill you."

Cinna laughed. "Don't worry, we are not soulmates, Haymitch."

" _Good_. I like you and all, but not like _that_."

"The feeling is mutual; besides I think Portia would kill us both."

"Is she your soulmate?"

"By choice, yes. By mark? No. I don't put too much faith in those kind of things. At least… not always." Something about the way he said it had the hairs on the back of Haymitch's neck standing up, but he was distracted when Cinna started studying his arm.

"It's nothin' special. It's five dots in the shape of a cross."

"Do you know what it means?"

Haymitch cut his eyes at Cinna. "Do I _look_ like I fucking know what it means?"

Cinna smiled softly. "Crosses symbolize spirituality and healing. They are seen as the meeting place of divine energies." Cinna caressed the four points of Haymitch's cross. "The four points of a cross represent self, nature, wisdom, and higher power or being. Crosses suggest transition, balance, faith, unity, temperance, hope, and life. They _also_ represent relationships and synthesis and a need for connection to something, whether that something is group, individual, self, or project related."

Haymitch glared at Cinna. "It _sounds_ like _female_ shit."

Cinna stared at Haymitch. "I think your soulmark describe you perfectly."

Haymitch snorted. "I don't think you really know me."

Cinna stayed quiet for a little while. "Let's just agree to disagree," the designer finally said.

"Are you sure you we don't have the same symbol?" Cinna started unbuttoning his shirt and Haymitch stepped back. "I will kill you, Cinna."

Cinna gave Haymitch a smile. "Relax. I'm just showing you that we aren't a match to ease your mind."

"I get that I'm a catch," Haymitch said, and Cinna just shook his head, his eyes twinkling. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, pointing to the mark on his rib that was definitely _not_ identical to Haymitch's.

"See? Mine looks more like the sun." It was a circular spiral shape with four flames around it.

Haymitch stared at it, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What's yours symbolize?"

"Spirals are expressions of creativity and suggest the process of growth and evolutions. They also convey birth, death, expansion, and transformation. They are cycles of time, life, and seasons. They represent returning to the same point on life's journey with levels of understanding, along with trust during change and the ability to remain flexible through transformation. The fact that my spirals are counterclockwise represent the fulfilling of intentions."

Haymitch snorted. "You believe in all that shit?"

Cinna shrugged. "I believe I am my own soulmate. I believe my mark tells me more about myself than the woman I am supposed to love. What does your soulmark tell you?"

"It doesn't tell me anything. I don't believe in it. I find it hard to believe that every person will find their soulmate."

"And sometimes they will find each other."

"Well keep me clear of mine," Haymitch muttered, putting on his shirt.

"Do you say that because you already found someone?"

On the surface Haymitch barely even blinked at the question, but his fingers halted – briefly – in buttoning his shirt for all of one second. Cinna stared at him innocently.

"What are you gettin' at?" asked Haymitch, his eyes narrowed.

Cinna buttoned up his own shirt but kept his gaze locked with Haymitch. "Seems like you're pretty into Effie. Are you sleeping with her?"

He could argue that Effie was sleeping with him, but it was the same thing now. "Why?"

Cinna shrugged. "Curious."

"Don't be. It's none of your business."

"Ah, but it is. I style you both. I'm pretty sure the scratches on your back are as old as the hickey on her neck."

"I didn't leave a hickey on her neck, if I did I'd be dead."

Cinna smiled until Haymitch realized his mistake. "Well shit." He looked at the bar. "I'm rarely trapped." He cut his eyes at Cinna. "You're clever."

"Don't seem so surprised."

"You're _Capitol_."

"Am I?" Haymitch kept his face blank. "I'm running late. I still have to help Effie get ready before I meet Katniss. I'll see you later, Haymitch."

Cinna made his way to Effie's room, knocking softly, and then entered. She looked at him through her vanity mirror and gave him a genuine smile. He came up behind her and started pinning up her hair, his eyes lingering on the soulmark on the back of her neck. He grabbed the powder, as was custom, and started covering up the mark.

"Why do you hide it?" asked Cinna softly.

Effie didn't immediately answer. She grabbed her bottle of lotion and squirted some on her palms and rubbed her hands together, clearing her throat. "It is not important. My soulmark does not define me."

Cinna remained silent until her mark was completely covered, then he walked to her closet and grabbed her dress. She insisted on dresses that hid the nape of her neck for extra security.

He helped her get dressed in silence and didn't speak again until he was doing her makeup.

"Does he know?"

Effie looked at him, their eyes locking. "No."

Cinna arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Effie huffed. "He knows subconsciously. Will he probably have to have it spelled out for him? Most likely."

"He loves you," Cinna stated plainly.

"Yes, but he does not know it. I am not sure he ever will."

Cinna thought about everything that was happening and secretly disagreed. If anything Haymitch would be forced to admit his feelings sooner than he'd like.

"I have to go. I'll see you later." Effie nodded her goodbye and made her way to Haymitch's room.

"Are you ready?"

"Almost," mumbled Haymitch, and he yanked her to him. She gasped in surprise and before she could recover his lips were on hers.

"You are going to mess up my makeup," she scolded, and he snorted.

"Like you care."

"We don't want to be late. There will be plenty of time for that later."

He thought about what was happening out there, what he'd probably be going home to, and he couldn't agree with her. But he forced a smile and nodded.

She slid her hand in his, her thumb absent-mindedly rubbing his soulmark. He was so used to it he didn't even notice. There was _a lot_ he didn't notice, a lot she kept from him, but none of those secrets mattered right now.

"Let's go get our Tributes," Haymitch said, and they disappeared to start the celebrations of the 74th Hunger Games.

* * *

 _I got the shape definitions from the internet, FYI, they are not original. Originally I wanted Effie to explain her soulmark to Haymitch after he'd found her, but it ended up not working. I am quite pleased I was able to use the information in this story._


	283. Prom Night

_Continuation of Bad News, Good News (Chap 259), though it can be read alone._

 **PROM NIGHT**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch sighed and undid his tie for the umpteenth time. This was stupid. He hadn't had to get this dressed up in years, and the whole thing was pointless in his opinion. If he wanted to dress up like a Capitol he at least wanted to wear things he already owned. But Effie had _insisted_ that _this_ was the latest fashion, and if he gave a flying f—

Before that thought was finished the bathroom door swung open. Haymitch scowled without looking at his wife.

"I'll have you know that I think this whole thing is utterly _ridiculous_ ," he spat. "I don't appreciate—"

He stopped again as he got a good look at Effie.

She _always_ did that. Distracted him with some fancy outfit that made him forget what he was wearing. She always took his breath away, only now, after twenty-three years, it was acceptable for him to feel this way, and it wasn't difficult at all to tell her.

"Well then," he said, clearing his throat and walking up to her. "Don't you look stunning?" She wore a cream dress that made her look exquisite.

She beamed at him. "Thank you. You look quite dapper yourself." She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and then started to walk away from him but he pulled her back and planted a proper—or improper, depending on how you looked at it—kiss on her lips. "Haymitch, stop it. Willow will be finished any minute—"

"No she won't," he mumbled against her neck. "She's a girl. You know you guys take forever for this kind of thing. And she's worse than you. And Ava's worse than both of you." He gently bit her collarbone.

"Haymitch," whined Effie, her hands sliding down his chest. She meant to push him away but her hands had other ideas. "Willow and Ava only have one prom, and—" He shut her up with another kiss. He thought if he could just elicit that moan from her it'd be a wrap.

"Ash interrupted earlier, remember?" He nibbled on her ear, grinning triumphantly when she sighed and her hands started working on his belt. She'd just slid her hands in his boxers when there was a knock on the door.

Haymitch let out a strangled noise and groaned.

"Just a second," Effie said after clearing her throat. She sent him an apologetic look and walked away from him while he made his way to the bathroom. Effie opened the door to find Katniss.

"They're ready to go downstairs. You and Haymitch ready?"

"Almost," said Effie. "We'll be down in a few minutes. Have everyone gathered around, would you?"

"Sure," Katniss shrugged, and waltzed off.

Effie immediately shut the door and walked to the bathroom. "You literally have five minutes. We've done this quicker than that. Let's go."

"Woe. I'd rather wait than do it that quickly. It'll just make me want you even more."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Yah. I'll jus' pull you away sometime during prom and take you against the locker or in a bathroom or something."

"Charming," said Effie with an eye roll. "Let's go then. They're ready for us."

Haymitch made his way downstairs while Effie headed off to Ava's room. She knocked and then walked inside after she was given the okay. It was just Ava and Willow. Ember must already be downstairs.

Effie stopped and stared at them. The two of them were close. _All_ of them were close, really. Ash had always been the odd ball, but he'd taken the responsibility of older brother to heart. He'd always had Finn, though, who also thought of himself as a big brother. Willow and Ava were only a few months apart, and were extremely close. Willow and Ash were closest, and Ember and Ava were close, yet somehow Willow and Ava were best friends. They could tell each other things they couldn't tell their siblings.

They balanced each other out. Polar opposites, yet they worked together, and their personalities complimented each other.

Take now for instance. Willow wore a silk, floor length hunter green dress, her back out, large green pearls making up the top half. She topped it off with gold accents: gold heels, gold earrings, gold makeup, and a gold ring. Ava, on the other hand, wore an eggplant mid-length dress that flared out at the bottom, her tulle showing. She wore rose gold accessories, including a tiara.

"You two look beautiful," breathed Effie, blinking rapidly to preserve her makeup. She absolutely would _not_ cry. Ash had made her do so enough.

"Thanks, Aunt Effie," smiled Willow.

"You look great, too Mom." Effie was sure she was about to burst into tears when she heard a knock downstairs.

"That will be your dates. Let's not keep them waiting, so I want you two downstairs in one minute to make your grand entrance, okay?" The girls nodded and Effie made her way downstairs.

 **XxXxXx**

"Were you nervous at all?" Rye asked Ash in the kitchen. Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch were all in the living room with Ember. "When you started college?"

"A little," admitted Ash. "Why?"

Rye shrugged. "I've been debating about whether or not I wanna go. I think Dad really wants me to run the bakery, and I wouldn't mind. I'm good at it. But I also kinda wanna study art."

"You know your dad will support you in anything you do." At that moment there was a knock on the door. Haymitch stood up and welcomed in the men of the hour. Ash tried not to pay attention to them.

"Yah, but I'm not sure I wanna go off to college. Four years is a really long time."

Ash laughed. "Trust me, it'll fly by. I hardly remember it. Some days I wake up and I can't believe I'm already almost done with grad school. I graduate in two weeks with my _Master's_. It's crazy. But I needed college. It was good for me. I got to discover who I am. Twelve was kind of… smothering me."

Rye nodded. "I understand that. How was that first year of freedom?"

"I don't even _remember_ freshman year, but that's okay. You're not supposed to. I drank _so much_ it's all kind of hazy."

Ash realized his mistake as soon as he realized it was entirely too quiet.

"What did you just say?" Ash cringed and turned around to face his mother.

"Calm down, Mom."

"Calm down? You know how your father and I feel about you drinking." The room slowly became tense. "And you did it underage? You know Paylor reinstated twenty-one as the legal drinking age back when she was in office."

Ash sighed. "I never really drank in college, aside from my freshman year. I was just having fun."

"There's nothing _fun_ about—"

"I know, Mom. Look, you two raised a good kid, okay? I _know_ what drinking did to Dad." He glanced at his father, who was staring at him, his face blank. "I'm not a drinker. I don't even _like_ to drink. I spent my twenty-first birthday in my apartment studying. But if I go out with the guys that doesn't mean I won't have a drink or two. I don't get drunk. I know my limits. But you guys should trust me by now. I'm always the designated driver. I don't like to drink all the time. Having _one_ glass every few weeks doesn't mean I'm on the path to alcoholism."

"We just worry about you, is all," Effie said gently.

"I know you do. But if you don't trust me, trust yourselves. You know what kind of parents you were. Besides." He grinned, looking between his parents. "I've visited quite a few bars where your pictures were on the wall, Mom. And I've been kicked out of bars because of my last name. In fact I've been to a few bars who refused to serve me because they thought I was you. I think Mom blacklisted you."

Effie gasped. "Oh my God I did!" Haymitch's mouth dropped open and Katniss snorted. "I did it once I found out I was pregnant. I forgot." Effie gave Haymitch a smile, batting her eyelashes. "I only did it because I love you."

Haymitch rolled his eyes, and Ash realized _that_ crisis had been avoided.

"Hello, boys," stated Effie. "The girls will be down any minute now."

"Wow, Mrs. Abernathy. You are as stunning as ever."

"Thank you, Grover," said Effie, smiling at Ava's date.

"You already have my daughter, boy," Haymitch snarled. "Stop hitting on my wife."

"For the millionth time, Ava and I are just friends," said Grover. "We don't see each other that way."

"Why not? My sister not good enough for you?" Ash asked.

"Of course that's not why. She's just not my type, and I'm not hers."

Ash stared at him for a few more moments, frowning, and then turned to face Troy. His frown deepened as he took in the boy that was _clearly_ from the Town. His ash blond hair was styled perfectly, his dark blue eyes sparkled brightly, and his skin glowed brilliantly.

On the surface he seemed perfect.

Ash hated him.

He didn't know why. He just did.

At that moment he heard giggling and he looked up at the stairs, his jaw dropping.

He was losing it.

He was _bloody_ losing it.

She was like a _sister_ to him. Well, not really. He'd always been careful about using that term. He already had two sisters, who he loved more than life itself. Nobody could ever replace them. He hated casually throwing that word around. But Willow was like… a cousin or something. Right?

But she _wasn't_ his cousin. Not in the least. Not looking like _that_.

She was the girl next door, only she wasn't, not really.

His mouth dropped open at the sight of her.

 _Get a grip_ , he told himself firmly. It was _Willow_. She was just some girl. A kid, really.

Well not really. She'd turned eighteen a while ago. He'd been invited to her birthday party, but he had a huge test that following Monday and couldn't make it out here. He supposed he hadn't seen her since last year, though they certainly talked all the time.

And sure he'd _said_ he thought Troy was a good match for her. She'd seemed so damn giddy over the phone and through her text messages that he'd been happy for her. The two of them had been dating all school year. She kept saying she couldn't wait for him to meet Troy, and she made him promise that he'd be nice, because he could be a bit over protective.

Ash had assured Willow he'd behave, but that was before she looked like that and before he had wanted to rip Troy's head off.

"Wow. You look great," said Troy, breaking his train of thought.

"Yah, you do," Ash said without thinking.

Willow glanced at him, her eyes searching for his for a moment, before giving him a slow smile and then focusing her attention back to her date.

He missed the look his mother and Peeta shared.

"M'lady," stated Troy, bowing slightly. "May I have your arm?" Willow smiled and held out her arm while Troy put on her corsage. Ash refrained from rolling his eyes.

"M'lady," Grover mimicked, and Ava shook her head, a smile on her face. He put her corsage on too, and then Effie insisted on a _million_ pictures being taken, until Haymitch declared he was about to start drinking again if he saw another flash.

"You guys behave," stated Ash, looking more at the boys than at Willow and Ava. "This was me, six years ago. I know _exactly_ what you two want, and you are _not_ getting it."

Haymitch felt pride rising up in his chest.

"I won't even begin to repeat myself. I want them home by twelve thirty."

"Uh, they're riding with us," Haymitch said. "But you have the right idea. Are we ready?"

"Yes," Ava said.

"Wait," stated Ash. "Hold on. Give me two minutes." He jetted upstairs, rummaging through his bag until he found what he was looking for. Then he made his way back downstairs. "Willow, this is your birthday gift. I haven't seen you so I know it's late, but I think it'll go with your dress."

Willow seemed stunned. "A birthday gift?"

"Well you only turn eighteen once." He handed her the rectangular box. "Open it."

"I bet it's a bracelet like you got Ava a few weeks ago." She took the box, eyeing Ash. "Except you mailed her hers," she stated pointedly.

"I meant to, honestly, but my mother threatened me within an inch of my life if I forgot to send Ava her birthday gift, that's the only reason I even sent hers." He shrugged sheepishly.

"Excuses, excuses," sighed Willow, and she ripped it open.

Sure enough it was a bracelet, but where Ava's was a tennis bracelet, Willow's was a charm bracelet with a miniature Mockingjay.

"You still love them right?"

Willow blinked. "Of course," she whispered.

"I remember when we were kids you used to say that you wanted to be a huge designer and work for Cinna's team and continue the Mockingjay line." Willow chuckled, remembering. "May I put it on?"

"Absolutely," breathed Willow.

Effie sighed and Peeta smiled. Haymitch and Katniss seemed oblivious, though Troy was frowning slightly. Rye, Ember, and Ava all looked on curiously.

"It's perfect," Willow said.

"And now you are too," stated Ash. The two locked eyes for several moments before Ash snapped out of it. "I suppose I should let you get back to your date. Enjoy tonight. I'll see you tomorrow." He turned to Ava to distract himself. "And you are a crowned jewel. You look just like Mom. You're gorgeous."

Ava smiled. "Thanks, Ash. You're the best big brother ever." She hugged him and Effie walked up to Haymitch.

"You ready to chaperone?"

"I'm ready to act like kids act on prom night," Haymitch muttered to her, and she shook her head, though her mouth was upturned.

Nothing he said would ruin her night.

She had a feeling that they'd be talking about prom night for the rest of their lives.


	284. Halloween in Twelve

_Part 2 of Ash's Halloween party._

 **HALLOWEEN IN TWELVE**

 **Rated T**

The party was _loud_. Haymitch never understood the reason why teenagers listened to music so loud, it was why they all went deaf when they got old.

Still, as Haymitch looked around, he couldn't help but be proud of how popular his son was. It seemed like every senior from school was here, and a few juniors, too.

Even a few adults had tried to sneak in, but Haymitch and Katniss were on security and Haymitch had no problem deciphering between kids and adults.

They weren't all good kids, he knew. A few who had shown up had caused some trouble in Town over the past couple of years, Ash's face had darkened considerably at their arrival, and he had stayed clear of them- and, Haymitch noted, they stayed away from him.

Finn and Ash were currently chatting - _conspiring_ more likely - in the corner, and when Ash glanced at him Haymitch narrowed his eyes. Ash gave his father his most charming smile, the same smile Haymitch used to give Effie whenever he wanted to hide something, but Haymitch was way better at it than Ash.

The boy looked good in his Iron Man suit. Effie spent months working on that thing, and it looked amazing, even better than the store-bought Black Panther suit Finn wore.

Finn and Ash secluded in a corner was no better than Finnick and Haymitch in the corner of a bar, they were up to something, and Haymitch would find out what.

Before Haymitch could make his way up to them, Mellie approached them, dressed as Storm, a long, white blonde wig flowing down her back, her black leather suit covering most of her, but not enough for Haymitch's liking.

The girl was nearly an adult now, as were Finn and Ash.

Where the _fuck_ had the time gone?

His son was no longer a child. Clearly, with the way Ash looked at Jewel when she approached him. He definitely liked her the most, Haymitch figured, his entire demeanor changed around her.

She was a stunner, would most likely be crowned Prom Queen at the end of the year. She was exotic with her rich, dark skin, she was the girl with the smile of a thousand suns, and thick hair that she currently wore in short 'locs that helped showcase that she was Nefertiti.

They wouldn't last, Haymitch knew, and Ash had probably come to the same conclusion, everybody knew that Jewel wanted to go into politics, she had already been accepted into a dozen top colleges all over Panem. She hadn't made her decision yet, but most knew she was considering a top political science school in One.

Ash was _definitely_ going to the Capitol for school.

Dozens of girls had come up to Ash over the course of the night, all of them dressed ridiculously, and he hadn't looked at any of them like Ash looked at Jewel.

She whispered something in his ear that had Ash grinning, and the Ash was signaling to Finn and Mellie and the four of them made their way to the dance floor.

"Would you stop spying on our son?" Effie slid around so she was in front of him. "Spying is rude."

Haymitch snorted. "Says the spy." He wrapped his arms around her waist, smirking at her. "Besides, your son and Finn are up to something."

"They are trying to figure out how Ash can juggle between Jewel and Sienne."

Haymitch eyed Effie suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"Well we know Peeta is Spiderman, but Ash does not, and I knew they were up to something so I had him eavesdropping."

Haymitch stared at her in awe. "You're clever." She smiled brilliantly at him.

At that moment Katniss arrived next to them. "We got trouble," she said, and both Haymitch and Effie turned around just in time to see a blonde girl approach Ash. Sienne. The girl was clearly furious, getting in Ash's face.

"Oh, shit," sighed Haymitch. "I better go break up this little _lover's quarrel_ before it gets out of hand.

It was too late, Haymitch realized. By the time he'd gotten to Ash his son had had a drink thrown on his face, and the entire party seemed to watch it unfold. There was an awkward pause for a moment before everyone resumed dancing.

Everyone except Ash.

Finn was next to him, laughing hysterically, Ash scowling.

"Serves you right for playing the field," Haymitch growled. Ash sent his father a snarl that almost made Haymitch proud. "Kitchen. Now."

Haymitch followed behind Ash to give his son a stern talking to.


	285. Halloween Night

Starting to post my Halloween prompts, obviously. The last one will take us all the way to Halloween, next Tues.

I'll be in ATL for Walker Stalker Con tomorrow but I'll still make sure I post.

Leave me some good prompts and/or reviews! : )

* * *

 **HALLOWEEN NIGHT**

 **Rated T**

The Halloween party was retro-themed, and Haymitch _hated_ Plutarch for this. He _hated_ him. And he hated himself even more for agreeing to come to this _stupid_ thing.

He wasn't sure who was more stupid at his point, him, or Plutarch.

Haymitch was only going to this _senseless_ party because Effie had promised him if he showed up he would get laid, and it'd been _weeks_ , so he deserved it.

They were still doing this bi-District thing that he was starting to think was overly ridiculous. He was convinced that she was going to force him to propose, she would not move to Twelve without a ring, she had told him that on numerous occasions, and he was _this close_ to buying her one if it meant he could stop this madness.

The Capitol wasn't the same, no, and he didn't _hate_ it anymore, but he didn't like being away from the kids for too long. He preferred it when Effie came to visit, they could be a proper family then, Peeta would cook what Katniss had caught and they'd have supper at Haymitch and Effie's and the whole thing was so _domestic_ that it should have made Haymitch sick, only he found he liked it best that way.

It would certainly stop him from having to do idiotic things like _this_ , having to come to the Capitol for what Effie called the Halloween party of the century.

Haymitch didn't care _what_ it was, he looked ridiculous, and the sex had _better_ be damned worth it.

It always was, but even more so than usual.

He was dressed as Instagram, whatever the hell _that_ was. He looked like a fool, dressed in a cardboard shaped blue box, the word _Instagram_ painted in white cursive. His name, _drunkenvictor_ – _his_ idea, no matter how mad Effie got – was on the left, right above where his head would be, and there were several "buttons" at the bottom of the box: a house, a magnifying class, a plus sign, a heart, and a person. Apparently it was some social media thing that kids used to upload pictures on their phones before the Apocalypse happened.

Why he had to wear it was beyond him.

Peeta, Haymitch noted, looked just as ridiculous, and Haymitch couldn't help but feel relieved, no matter how selfish that emotion was. Peeta wore a similar cardboard box, this one saying Myspace, also in white lettering, the blue box a couple of shades darker than Haymitch's. Next to the word Myspace were three figures to signify people, all placed behind each other.

Peeta stared at Haymitch with quiet bafflement. Haymitch just shook his head.

Katniss came out the room behind him, looking ten times better than Haymitch and Peeta, but still ridiculous. She was dressed in a blue sweater with a lowercase white _t_ in the center. She also wore a matching blue tutu skirt that flared out at the bottom.

"I'm gonna kill Effie," Katniss scowled.

"Get in line," muttered Haymitch.

At that moment he heard the bedroom door open, and Effie made her grand entrance.

Haymitch looked her over and felt his temperature rise. She was dressed in a skintight yellow dress that hugged every curve she had, the front low-cut, the sleeves off the shoulder. There was a white smiley faced ghost on the front with its tongue sticking out.

She looked _hot_.

He narrowed his eyes at her as she swayed towards him.

"You guys look great," she said, looking at all of them.

Peeta shook his head. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever agreed to, and that includes letting Portia paint my nails all those years ago."

"You look fine," Effie assured him. "We should go, we are already fashionably late enough as it is."

Peeta and Katniss let out identical sighs but headed to the door. Effie looked at Haymitch.

"That dress is way too short and way too tight," said Haymitch.

"I am not wearing any underwear and I fully intend to let you take advantage of that. I figured we would sneak away at some point, like we had done all those years ago in the Capitol."

Haymitch felt his mouth go dry.

"Now if you behave tonight, I promise I will make it worth your while."

They headed towards Heavensbee's place, Haymitch noting that in comparison to some people, they looked relatively normal. Haymitch saw a few witch costumes, along with a couple of clowns that had Effie moving closer to him. Not a lot scared Effie Trinket, not after everything she had gone through, but she did _not_ like clowns.

Effie stopped dead in her tracks when she saw someone in a Pennywise costume. The clown noticed the way Effie tensed and started towards her.

"Haymitch," breathed Effie, and as ridiculous as he felt Haymitch was _not_ about to let anyone mess with her.

"Beat it, asshole," Haymitch snapped. For _once_ Effie didn't chide him on his poor language. The clown stiffened and turned around, clearly disrespected. Haymitch wrapped his arms around her. "Serves you right for making me wear this stupid costume." He kissed her on the cheek.

The party was _packed_ , it was standing room only, the music was blasting, and Haymitch immediately headed to the bar. He wasn't allowed to drink as much as he wanted, Effie had forbidden it. Some days were better than others but he felt like he earned this drink. And the two he had after that.

"We haven't been here but five minutes and you're already drinking," the voice accused.

Haymitch took a healthy gulp, his mouth already upturned. "Johanna Mason. To what do I owe this unfortunate surprise?"

She shrugged, her black dominatrix suit rising a little. "I heard you were sober, wanted to see if it was true."

"Recovering alcoholic," Haymitch stated, toasting to her and taking another drink.

She snorted and looked him over. "You look good."

He gave her his signature smirk. "Still got a hard on for me, Sweetheart?"

"Not if you were the last Victor standing." She took his drink, finishing it off for him. "Your Escort's watching, and she's worried. She knows what being here does to you, so slow down a little, yah?"

Haymitch blinked at her. "Since when do you care about Effie?"

Johanna grabbed another drink and drowned it before answering. "Since I still get nightmares about her screams." He flinched as she walked away. He felt like getting another drink, but instead left the bar and walked over towards Effie, who was chatting with Plutarch.

Plutarch, who was dressed as a giant baby and looked worse than all of them combined.

"So you're Instagram, Katniss is Twitter, Peeta is Myspace, and Effie is Snapchat. I _love_ it."

"You would," Haymitch said, rolling his eyes. "Nice party."

"I'm having a _blast_ ," laughed Plutarch. "Oh, there's Cressida, I'll see you two later."

Haymitch pulled Effie to him. "Let's dance."

"One of these days you are going to ask me."

Haymitch snorted. "Doubt it." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as he could with his costume. Effie gave him an amused look and he decided he'd had enough. "I will never forgive you for this, Effie," he vowed.

She threw her head back and laughed. "I am not going to lie, I am surprised you went through with it."

"You promised me good sex."

"And you have earned it. The party is _dreadful_. Come on. Let's give Katniss and Peeta the hotel suite and we can head back to the apartment."

 _The_ apartment. Not _her_ apartment. He took a risk.

"Why don't we head home instead?"

" _Home_? I can't, I haven't packed anything, we have no idea what time the train leaves—"

Haymitch felt something shift inside of him, he felt like his world had just been rocked.

The kiss he gave her had her moaning. "You called Twelve home. You called it _home_." He kissed her again, not caring about how uncomfortable he was because of the stupid cardboard box, he kissed her until he was dizzy with desire. He rested his forehead against her, trying to get his emotions under control, trying to figure out what he was feeling, but really it was rather obvious at this point.

Effie was silent for several moments. "Come on, then. Let's go _home_."

The people on the train complimented their outfits, but by the time they got home the people in Twelve were giving them strange looks, particularly because Effie's dress was ripped down the front so she was covered up in Haymitch's jacket. Haymitch still had on his costume, and he saw some of the smirks at his Instagram name, but for the most part people looked at them as if they were crazy.

Halloween had made it to the Districts, but in Twelve _kids_ dressed up, not adults.

Effie owed him big time, he thought. And she would owe him for a _long_ time thanks to Halloween night.


	286. Angel of Death

_Prompt: "It's drabble, but I still loved it! Halloween prompt: Effie dressing up as the angel of death (wings, stunning dress, dark makeup) and Haymitch loses his shit, until Effie explains that it comforts her knowing an angel was looking after Finnick chaff etc etc_ _" –Missy Tea_

 **ANGEL OF DEATH**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch finished zipping up Ash's jacket, covering up his son's ninja's Halloween costume. Ash had fought him for a good thirty minutes on it, but it was colder than usual and Haymitch had put his foot down, either Ash would wear the jacket of there would be no trick or treating.

Katniss and Peeta had stood there, amused at the argument, and he glared at them.

It didn't deter them, though, they kept those ridiculous smirks on their faces.

Ash, as if to punish Haymitch, walked away from him as soon as his jacket was zipped up, and stood next to Katniss and Peeta, Haymitch's signature scowl on his face.

Haymitch pretended his feelings weren't hurt.

Haymitch heard Effie's heels at the top of the stairs and he thought, _Finally_. They'd been waiting forever, at this rate there wouldn't be any candy left for Ash to have.

Haymitch knew almost immediately something was wrong. It was on Katniss' face as she stared at Effie.

"Ash, why don't we head outside?" asked Peeta, holding out his hand, and Haymitch frowned. Ash grabbed Peeta's hand, and the two of them disappeared – quickly.

"Effie," Katniss whispered. "What _are_ you?"

"Why, I am the Angel of Death, of course."

Haymitch turned around and his stomach dropped. She was… it was _dark_. The costume was dark, darker than anything he'd ever seen her in. She didn't wear black often – ever, actually, he'd never seen her black. The dress was _supposed_ to be sexy, but it missed the mark. Her hair was in a wig that rivaled what she'd have worn in the Capitol, it was jet-black and flowed down her back. She wore dark red lipstick, almost black, and her nails were painted a dark red, and she looked… _creepy_ didn't even begin to cut it.

It wasn't so much the costume that had Haymitch's stomach in knots. It was the nonchalant way she'd answered Katniss' question.

"The Angel… of Death?" repeated Haymitch, his voice shaking. "Are you _fucking_ stupid?"

Effie stopped, her face clearly confused, and he felt his blood start to boil. How the _fuck_ could she stand there confused? "Haymitch? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's _wrong_? You're walking around like the _fucking_ Angel of Death and you're asking me what's _wrong_?"

Neither of them realized that Katniss left.

"Was being a _fucking_ Escort not enough, you have to be this even at Halloween? What, do you miss the old days? You miss picking kids names outta a glass bowl?"

Effie froze, her eyes widening, and then suddenly she was paler than usual.

"No. No, you don't get to fucking have a panic attack right now, Effie. You need to explain yourself. _Now_." The threat in his voice had her eyes welling with tears, and then her blue eyes were looking around.

She would run.

And then she turned around, fleeing up the stairs, a choked sob escaping from her mouth. He watched her stumble, catch herself, and then their bedroom door was slamming.

Haymitch cursed and walked to the kitchen, opening up cupboards and searching for a bottle he knew wasn't there. He didn't _drink_ anymore, but he needed _something_ …. What the _fuck_ was she thinking, wearing something like that?

He took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. He should really go and check on her. Maybe have a civilized conversation.

But damn it she _knew_ better by now.

He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling _old_. He was too old for having the same fight with Effie.

Annoyed he walked to the front door, opening it. "Go ahead and take Ash trick or treating," Haymitch said. "I'm gonna talk to Effie." Katniss nodded and Peeta cringed.

"I don't think—" Peeta started, but Haymitch interrupted him.

"I didn't ask what you thought, boy." Peeta heard the anger in Haymitch's voice and nodded. Together he and Katniss took Ash down the steps, his candy bucket in his hand. Haymitch walked back inside, slamming the door behind him. After a couple of deep breaths he made his way upstairs, opening his bedroom door.

Effie was on the bed, unpinning her hair, her hands shaking. When she saw him she stopped moving, dropping her hands to her lap. He didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what he _could_ say at the moment.

It turns out he didn't have to say anything.

"In ancient days, the Angel of Death was close to God." Her voice was soft as she talked, but firm. It didn't waver, even as tears fell down her cheek. "Hebrews had a word… _Azrael_. It translates to 'Help of God,' or 'Help from God,' or 'One whom God helps.'" She took a deep breath, standing up, once again removing the pins from her hair. She made her way to the vanity. "I was not… I would _never_ want to the Escort again. That was not—" Effie's voice cracked but she cleared her throat. "This woman… _Azrael_ … she is who I hoped was waiting for Finnick." Haymitch inhaled sharply.

 _Fuck_.

"Finnick, Prim… Chaff." Her hair came down and she ran her fingers through it. "Seeder. Mags. It brings me comfort, to think of them having someone to welcome them into the next life. Into _somewhere_ where they will know peace."

 _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_ , Haymitch thought.

Effie grabbed a bottle of what Haymitch knew to be nail polish remover, and started removing the color from her nails, hard enough for Haymitch to realize Effie was probably picturing herself smothering him with their pillow.

"I understand that you do not know everything. I also understand that you _think_ you do. But you are not the only person who reads history books, Haymitch Abernathy, and furthermore, just because you do not understand something about me, does _not_ mean that you get to assume everything I do that you do not understand was taught to me by the Capitol."

"In my defense—"

"There is no ' _In my defense_ ,'" snapped Effie. "Do you know me or not? Did _you_ not ask me to come back to Twelve after the War? Did _you_ not tell me to bring our son home? Did _you_ not marry me? If you do _not_ want to know me, then at least know yourself. I get that _clearly_ you think _I_ am capable of this. You have made that quite obvious. But would _you_ have married me if I was capable of doing this? If I could be that _insensitive_? Like I do not have _nightmares_ of picking my own son's name?"

That seemed to be the final straw. That lone admission had her clutching her chest, gulping for air.

Haymitch was there a second later.

" _Breathe_ , damn it, just fucking _breathe_." He gripped her shoulders and she immediately wrestled out of his grip.

"Do not _touch_ me. I am fine." She backed away from him. "I am _fine_." She turned away from him, walking to the bathroom. He cringed when she slammed the door.

Sighing Haymitch walked to the bathroom door, leaning his face against it. He banged his head against the door a few times.

"Go _away_ , Haymitch," she called.

He did.

…

 _Hours_ passed. Ash came back from trick-or-treating, high off of candy. Both Effie and Haymitch helped him get ready for bed, skirting around each other in the process. Haymitch was in bed for a couple of hours, wide awake, Effie still downstairs.

He thought maybe she was sleeping down there.

Eventually he made his way down there, and found Effie on the couch, reading.

"Are you coming to bed sometime tonight?" Haymitch asked.

"No," responded Effie without looking at him. "I do not like going to bed mad at you, so I have decided I will stay up all night."

He scowled, stomped back upstairs, and then grabbed their comforter. Then he made his way back downstairs and sat in the rocking chair, wrapped up in their blanket, a scowl on his face.

It _smelled_ like her, he realized.

Effie seemed content to ignore his entire existence.

He gave her a couple of more hours before getting up and finally making his way to the couch she was stretched out on. He snatched her book out of her hand, throwing it behind him, and then pushed her down on the couch, climbing on top of her.

Effie didn't say a word as Haymitch wrapped her in their blanket, nor did she stiffen when he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'm a fucking idiot, okay? I'm stupid, and I'm sorry."

Effie sighed. "What was that, six hours for you to apologize? Why, that might be a record." She hadn't raised her voice but the words sliced him wide open nonetheless.

"Okay, I deserved that." Effie remained quiet. He pressed his face into her back, sighing deeply. "I _hate_ fighting with you. I'm _sorry_."

"I guess I do not understand how you could still think of me like that. Like I would… like I could _ever_ …." Effie's voice trailed.

"I don't," sighed Haymitch. "I just saw the stupid costume and… it was _scary_."

"It's _Halloween_ , Haymitch, it—" Effie paused. "Nothing. Never mind. It does not matter."

"It does. It _does_ matter. You're _not_ an Escort anymore, and I know that. I _know_ that. I'm sorry, Princess. I freaked for a second. I was terrified."

"You know what scares _me_? You only marrying me because I mothered your child." Haymitch flinched. "You, resenting me for being an Escort when I _paid_ for those sins in that bloody cell. Why did you ask me to marry you if you are just going to bring up the fact that I was an Escort? Was it because it _sounded nice_?"

Haymitch dug his nails into her hips. "Stop it." She heard the warning in his voice and sighed, deflating. "You know how I feel about you."

"Yes, I know you have hated me much longer than you have loved me."

He reached out, touching her face and forcing her to turn towards him so that they could look at each other. "That is not true."

"It feels like it."

He swallowed, hard. "Well then it's a good thing I have the rest of our lives to make it up to you and convince you otherwise, then."

Effie stared at him, her eyes searching his for several moments. "You damn right you do," she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

He bent down and kissed her. "Don't cry, Princess. I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't… I didn't know you had dreams about picking Ash's name. I'd have _never_ said that. _Ever_."

Effie sighed.

"And I never knew the real meaning behind the Angel of Death. I think… thinking that Finnick, Chaff, Mags, Seeder… to think that something, _anything_ was waiting for them… that's a good thought. They deserve that. I'm sorry." He kissed her again. "I'm sorry."

Effie looked at him and the nodded. "All right. Come on. Let's go to bed."

Haymitch felt himself relax. The fight had been horrible, the costume had been terrifying, but there was nothing scarier than hurting her. He _hated_ hurting her.

He'd dodged a bullet but honestly, he was beginning to think Halloween was more trouble than it was worth.


	287. A Capitol Halloween

Sorry for the late post! Spent most of the day in Senoia where they film TWD!

* * *

 _Prompt: "omg, or a Capital Halloween, where they've all been told to dress up as one of the victors. So there's thousands of Finnicks and Johannas, but Effie decides to go as Haymitch, complete with a greasy haired wig, and a bottle of something." –Missy Tea_

 _Loved the prompt – but FYI, it's crack lol._

 **A CAPITOL HALLOWEEN**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch was _bored_. That bored, bored, where even drinking wasn't helping. He was _trying_ to cut back because he knew something was coming – he didn't know _what_ yet, but something was _definitely_ coming, Katniss made sure of that the second she threatened Panem with those berries.

He was restless, but he was also lazy, he didn't have the strength to clean, and with the kids hiring Hazel there was really no point, she'd be here sometime tomorrow, so he wasn't sure what he could do.

His book wasn't interesting, there was no point in bothering Katniss or Peeta as it was a school night, and even if it wasn't…. He'd probably never trouble Katniss, not when she still had her family. He knew Peeta was still working at the bakery but he wasn't _living_ there anymore, and Haymitch may be drunk more often than not, but he was pretty positive the boy's parents nor siblings ever visited.

For a long while Haymitch debated if he should go check on the boy. Sae brought news more often than not, and drunk or not, he tried to pay attention when she told him how Peeta was fairing. They boy seemed in his right mind enough to convince Hazel to clean up after him so he had to be doing okay.

In the end Haymitch let him be. It was too much of an effort to get up and walk to Peeta's, and even though Haymitch had no clue what day it was, he knew it was cool enough outside that he'd have to make an effort to find a jacket, and that seemed like a lot of work too. He _could_ call, but he'd long ago gotten rid of his phone, and no matter what Katniss and Peeta said, he refused to get another one.

There was only one person he wanted to call, anyway.

And that was where the problem _really_ was. He wasn't just bored and lazy he was _horny_ , and even more than that, he _missed_ her.

And how ironic was that, to start missing her _now_? Now, when things were surely going to _shit_ with no chance of it being fixed.

Haymitch sighed, determined to forget about her. Effie was his Escort, it was all she would ever be, especially now. To risk picking up a phone and calling her… well, it'd practically insure her death, and he couldn't do that.

So to try and take his mind off of her, he turned on the television.

He flipped through the channels, scowling at the fact that there was nothing on – there was _never_ anything on. He knew they wouldn't be airing the kid's Games, not with the stunt they pulled at the end, but maybe if he was lucky he'd catch an old movie or something.

He had just about given up when he sat up a little straighter. He flipped back to the last channel, and found himself staring at Caesar, dressed as ridiculous as usual.

"The party here is starting to heat up," Caesar was saying into the microphone, his hair powder blue.

"Well, it's the Halloween party of the century," Claudius Templeton said, smiling with lime green hair.

Oh. So it was Halloween, then. Haymitch tried not to roll his eyes at the Capitol and their excuses to dress up.

"That it is," agreed Caesar. "This is, of course, _the_ Halloween Ball, and we have a truly fun theme this year."

"That's right," picked up Claudius. "For those of you just now joining us – and where have you been if you are? – this year's Halloween Ball theme is _Former Victors_!"

Haymitch arched an eyebrow at the television.

"Oh, and _finally_ , the guests of honor have arrived!" Caesar practically jumped out of his seat.

Haymitch's mouth went dry at the sight before him.

"Here is renowned designer Cinna, and his _gorgeous_ partner Portia," continued Caesar excitedly.

The camera showed Portia, clearly dressed as Seeder. Her normally orange-blonde hair was hidden underneath a short Afro. She wore a crown of flowers around her hair, and a dress made up of pink orchids.

In essence, she looked breathtaking.

The camera switched to Cinna, who was unmistakably Chaff. Haymitch smirked as he realized that his best friend had _never_ looked that good. Dressed in a brown suit that fit Cinna perfectly, he really was a smoother, more charming version of Chaff. He wore a pink dress shirt to match Portia.

"And what is Chaff without his best friend?" Caesar exclaimed. "It is the woman of the hour, this year's Hunger Game's Winning Escort herself, Effie Trinket, as none other than Haymitch Abernathy."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open.

"Do you hear the crowd?" asked Claudius.

"It certainly sounds like Effie Trinket has entered the premises. She's been captivating audiences since her days as a child model. I have to get down there and get an exclusive."

As Caesar made his way down the red carpet the camera zoomed in on Effie, and Haymitch found himself licking his lips. She was… _him_. Her wig was the same shade as his hair, and they had duplicated his curls. It stopped right at her chin, and he had to admit, it looked good on her. She wore grey contacts – which he didn't really like, because his favorite thing about her was her eyes – and he recognized the outfit she was wearing; it was similar to the one he'd worn last year: she wore khaki pants, that he _hoped_ were never that tight on him. She wore a navy blue lace bra to match the navy blue shirt he had worn, barely visible but still enough for him to make a mental note to tell her off when he saw her on the Victory Tour. He was pretty positive the purple jacket she was wearing was his. She'd clearly altered it, it fit her perfectly and it was shorter so that her stomach was showing, and he felt… _good_ thinking about her wearing his clothes.

The camera continued to focus on Effie. She walked – _sauntered_ – towards Cinna and Portia, all smiles and working the crowd. She blew a kiss to the crowd, her eyes sparkling when she reached Cinna. He reached for her with both hands and she greeted him, her smile genuine. She kissed him gently on the lips, the crowd going even wilder.

When Caesar reached her she waived.

"Miss Trinket, I must get an exclusive," Caesar stated.

"Caesar, I have been giving you exclusives since the Games ended," charmed Effie.

"I just have to ask, how does one age backwards? What is your secret?"

Effie laughed. "As if you do not know, Caesar."

"Not as well as you do, apparently. You look _amazing_. I must say, I have never seen Haymitch look so good."

"Neither have I," smiled Effie, and Caesar and the crowd laughed.

"I don't think we've ever seen you in pants," Caesar noted. "And we've _definitely_ never seen Haymitch in heels."

"Yes, well, I wanted to be realistic. Could I have gone as a modern version of Haymitch, sure. But I wanted to do my Mentor justice. Except for the heels. I was _not_ giving those up." Caesar laughed.

"Well it's certainly a great costume. You, of course, as always, are the bell of the ball."

"Well I _am_ dressed as the best Victor."

Haymitch felt his heart skip a beat.

"I thought that was me," a familiar voice said.

Effie turned and her eyes widened. "Finnick O'dair," she breathed.

The crowd _exploded_.

He smiled at her and the two of them embraced. Haymitch scowled when Finnick gently grabbed Effie's face and placed a soft but lingering kiss on her lips.

"What is it you were saying, Finnick?" Caesar asked. "Finnick O'dair, ladies and gentlemen. Not that he needs an introduction." The crowd roared in approval. "So you were saying, Finnick?"

"I thought _I_ was the best Victor," pouted Finnick, glancing at Effie.

"Do _not_ be ridiculous," Effie stated. "You are my _favorite_ Victor. You are not the best. That title is taken." Finnick rolled his eyes and Effie looked him over. "Finnick… are you _Johanna_?"

Haymitch snorted as he realized Finnick _was_ Johanna, dressed in Victor Seven's typical tree outfit. He looked utterly _ridiculous_ , and Haymitch vowed that he would _never_ let him live it down.

"Aye, looks like the gang's all here." Haymitch's mouth dropped open when he saw Chaff, dressed as—

"Chaff, are you _Finnick_?" Haymitch could hear the amusement in Effie's voice.

Haymitch was convinced there was no one else his best friend could be. He wore a see-through shirt and some sort of toga bottom. Most telling was the larger-than-life trident in Chaff's hand.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Trinket," grinned Chaff. He looked her over, a little too longingly in Haymitch's opinion. "You _would_ be Haymitch." He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on his lips. "And is that liquor?"

For the first time Haymitch noted the small bottle in Effie's hand.

She grinned and placed the bottle in front of her. " _Twelve's Best Liquor_ ," she read, and Chaff cackled out a laugh.

"You are my absolute favorite, Trinket, don't ever forget that."

Haymitch smiled at the television, an unnatural affection for the people on his screen rushing through his veins. These people were his _friends_ , people he cared about.

And his favorite person on that screen was currently dressed as him, wearing his clothes, and hanging with his friends. They all momentarily looked _happy_ , they were all laughing, joking with each other. They were having _fun_.

For a brief moment, he wished he was celebrating Halloween in the Capitol with them.

It would have been a nice memory to have when the world went to _shit_.

* * *

Effing loved this one, and this prompt!


	288. Halloween Time

_Prompt: "Some of my favourite chapters have been the early years with Cinna and Portia. Random thought for Halloween not too sure if it will work: HG meets TWD? They could dress as their favourite characters or maybe E has a dream about meeting the characters...not my best prompt but it's all I could think of :)" –nicknee_

 **HALLOWEEN TIME**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch got off the train, his flask in his hand. He looked around, noted the different costumes and scowled.

He _hated_ the Capitol, and he hated it even more on _this_ day, and he hated this day even more than usual because he had to be _in_ the Capitol on this day, and the whole thing was absolutely ridiculous and pointless. He had been coming  
here for the past fifteenyears, once every five years, since they celebrated the anniversary of his Games every five years as it was a Quell Victory, and that was threeextra times too many.

Still, he was here, and he had no intention of making the best of it.

He headed to the Penthouse, ignoring the thousands of people on the street, though keeping his eyes and ears open. He hated the Capitol on a good day, and today would definitely be a bad one.

It took a while but he finally got a car, and it got him to the Penthouse way too quickly. He sighed, glaring at all the people crowded around. He got out, the applause deafening, and he wondered how these people could still cheer for him, how they could  
still scream his name.

He kept his eyes low, trying to hide the scowl on his face. He knew the rules, knew he was on Snow's watch, so he made his way into the building, head low, and pushed his way inside, holding in his desire for the liquor until he was on the elevator, where  
he pulled it out and took a long drink.

When the elevator doors opened the first thing he noticed was that the Penthouse was decorated for Halloween.

How _festive_.

The second thing he noticed was—

"Haymitch, there you are!" Effie Trinket was already approaching him, her heels clicking loudly. "You are late—"

"I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures, Effie," he interrupted.

"And I was getting worried," finished Effie softly. He mentally cringing but kept his face blank as he made his way to the bar. "I was not sure that you would actually come."

"Didn't have much of a _fucking_ choice, did I?" He was being rude and hostile, and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. He wasn't supposed to _be_ here this early. He _hated_ this place.

"No, you did not, but I thought we could make the best of it. I—"

"Yah? _How_?" He took a long drink from the bottle, glaring at her.

"If you stopped interrupting her, she'd tell you."

Haymitch stared at the voice, blinking rapidly. "Who invited the kid?" Haymitch asked.

"Effie did," smiled Finnick.

"I thought I heard your voice," and Chaff came inside from the balcony, Seeder behind him.

Haymitch's mouth dropped open. "What are _you_ doin' here?"

"What, did you think we'd let you come here alone? Or rather, that Trinket would let you?" Haymitch glanced at Effie, who suddenly wouldn't meet his eye. Haymitch was about to walk over to her when Chaff approached him, his voice low. "Your Escort called  
me. She _actually_ called me."

Haymitch glanced at Effie again. "And said what?"

"Oh, she was her usual cheerful self, she was wondering what size I was so she could get me a proper costume for the Halloween party the Capitol was throwing. Then she casually mentioned how it had been twenty years since the Quell and how you were looking  
forward to seeing all of us this year. I could read between the lines, Mate. She was askin' us to come to make this easier for you. So… we're here, and you should really cut your Escort some slack."

Haymitch took a step back.

"Your costume is on your bed, Haymitch," Effie said, clearing her throat. "You _are_ late and we are leaving in twenty minutes, so let's go." Her voice was too cheery, too high, to _wrong_ , and he knew that voice.

"Sure thing, Princess," sighed Haymitch. He walked passed her, his hand brushing her shoulder as a peace offering, and he made his way towards his room, discarding his clothes. He frowned at the costume, but at least he looked relatively _normal_.  
A part of his fear of tonight was worrying about what costume his Escort would find him in.

At nineteen minutes and thirty seconds Effie came into his room, surely to check that he was finished and would be _on time_. Before he could say anything, though, he yanked her to him and planted a firm kiss on her lips.

"Thanks, Princess," he said softly, and then he brushed passed her.

Outside in the living room he looked around, trying to take in the ridiculous costumes. Finnick was walking around with a sheriff's hat and one of his eyes bandaged. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans, and looked _very_ much like the kid he was.

Chaff looked to be dressed in khaki jacket, darker cargo pants, and brown boots, and he also carried a backpack on his back. He also had a quarterstaff in his hand.

Seeder had a wig of faux locs on her head, a katana sword that certainly looked real enough, and wore black leggings, a light purple tank top, and a camel colored leather vest.

Effie entered the living room, and for the first time he got a good look at what she was wearing: a plaid shirt, tied at her breasts and showing _way_ too much stomach. She actually wore jeans – and Haymitch had no idea his Escort knew what jeans  
were, let alone how to wear them – but she still wore her heels. Her wig was brown and long, flowing down her back.

He wore a sheriff's uniform, the pants tighter than he would have liked. The shirt fit perfectly, though he left a few of the top buttons unbuttoned. He had on boots, wore a gun holster with a silver colt python, and a black cop jacket.

"What the _fuck_ are we?" asked Haymitch.

Chaff shrugged. "Something about an old TV show."

"We are the Walking Dead," confirmed Effie. "Seeder is Michonne, the most bad ass on the show, Mags, who is already at the party, will be Carol. And Chaff is Morgan, one of Rick's closest confidants."

"Who's Rick?"

"You are," Effie answered. "And Finnick is Carl, who is your son."

Finnick grinned. "And guess who my mother – _your wife_ – is?"

Effie cringed and Haymitch smirked. "Finally living out that crush, huh?"

"Shut up, Haymitch," muttered Effie, and tossing her hair back she stood up straighter. "Let's go."

Chaff snorted and Finnick grinned again.

"Should we hold hands?" Haymitch mocked.

Effie slit her eyes at Haymitch. "Do _not_ be ridiculous. Lori and Rick were not the least bit compatible on the television show, he actually gets with Michonne in later seasons, and she was much prettier and much more suitable for him. Even in the  
graphic novels, after Lori dies, he gets with Andrea, who is much more his type: blonde and blue and _gorgeous_."

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at her. "So why aren't you this Andrea then?"

"Darling because I am those things every day. Halloween is about being someone _else_ for a change." And then she was sauntering off towards the elevator.

Haymitch didn't care _who_ she was. At the end of the day, Effie Trinket _got_ him.

He didn't dare think about the fact that that meant he was _fucked_.

* * *

A/N: FYI, I added that thing about Andrea being gorgeous because Effie was referring to herself more so than Andrea. I am DEFINITELY a Richonner until I die. And sorry, Cinna and Portia weren't here, I couldn't make it work for this one.

Also, I found this One-Shot perfectly timed, as I am in ATL for the Walker Stalker Con. I got to meet Danai (Michonne), Ross (Aaron), Lennie (Morgan), Chandler (Carl), Seth (Father Gabe) and I went to a panel with Laurie (who played Andrea). I was VIP  
and I had a freakin BLAST, especially at the Richonne panel.


	289. Of Tricks, Treating, and Toddlers

**OF TRICKS, TREATING, AND TODDLERS**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch approached Effie from behind, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her to him. She gave him a soft smile, their eyes locking in the vanity mirror.

"You look _hot_ ," he told her honestly, his eyes taking in her Halloween costume.

Effie stared at him, amused. "Only you would find Tinkerbell hot."

"Green's a nice color on you, and the dress is short. You're definitely hot, and you know it." His lips found her neck, his hands snaking up to grip her breasts. "I should forbid you to leave the house."

Effie arched an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try, Mr. Abernathy." He _could_ do it, but it'd probably cause the mother of all fights, besides, she looked tasteful, even if the dress _was_ rather short.

"When we get back from trick-or-treating, I want you to keep this on."

"Oh?" She turned and faced him.

"I want you in this costume and bent over." His voice was husky and already doing very inappropriate things to her, so she scooted away, not too keen on starting anything they couldn't finish.

"The children are waiting for us," pointed out Effie.

"They can wait," Haymitch said, pulling her back to him. She could feel him but she pushed away from him.

"The quicker we start trick-or-treating, the quicker we can get back, and I promise you a _very_ nice treat if you can behave until then."

Haymitch sighed heavily and backed away from her. " _Fine_ ," he mumbled, "but you owe me.

"It is not _my_ fault that the children want to go trick-or-treating. _I_ did not make up the tradition."

"No, but your Capitol did. I feel like this is just an excuse to get you dressing ridiculous again."

Effie glared at him. "Stop your whining and come on. You are all bark and no bite, you went and bought costumes for the kids the minute they went on sale, so now that the day is here, stop pretending like you do not have a blast."

He _did_ have a good time usually, he enjoyed walking in the cool, crisp air, crunching the leaves on the ground, racing Ash down the block, and laughing at the kids and their costumes.

It was nice knowing that monsters were now pretend.

He made his way to Ash's room, who had decided to go as a pilot this year. He was so handsome it was ridiculous.

"You ready, Captain?" asked Haymitch, and Ash nodded. "C'mon, let's go check on your sisters."

They made their way to Ava's room. She was going as Princess Jasmine, her latest obsession, Aladdin was her favorite Disney movie of all time apparently, which was a welcomed change from Frozen. She looked cute in her turquoise suit, though Haymitch couldn't figure out for the life of him why her stomach had to be out. Katniss had braided her hair.

"You look _perfect_ ," Haymitch told Ava, and she beamed at her father.

"Why aren't _you_ dressed up, Daddy?" asked Ava, in all her three-year-old glory.

"Oh, I've played enough dress up to last me a lifetime." Haymitch nearly shuddered thinking about all the suits he had to wear in the Capitol. "C'mon, let's go get Ember."

The two-year-old – the most independent out of all of them – had decided that she wanted to be an angel, and she was the most beautiful angel he'd ever seen. He found her sitting on her bed, where Effie had left her for two minutes while she had run back to their bedroom to pin up her hair. Haymitch had distracted Effie but he was pleased to see that his daughter had stayed put.

"You ready, Pumpkin?" Ember nodded and got up, smiling at her father as she jumped off the bed and ran passed him. Effie met them at the stairs and they all made their way downstairs just as Katniss and Peeta walked in, Willow behind them. Katniss, like Haymitch, wasn't dressed up, but Peeta was, looking absolutely ridiculous as Robin Hood. Willow looked adorable as a mini huntress, her baby bow and arrow on her back.

Peeta made them pose for pictures. Everyone but Willow and Ember grumbled about it – Effie, Haymitch knew, was mostly for show, but they all took pictures until Peeta deemed them finished.

"All right, let's get this over with," Haymitch stated.

Katniss arched an eyebrow. "Don't act like you don't love this." Haymitch scowled at her. "Now you guys have fun, and don't be out too late." She was staying to hand out candy.

The rest of them made their way outside, the air cool. The sun was starting to set but it was dark because of the clouds. Rain would be here soon, Haymitch thought, the air already feeling wet. He glanced at Effie, dressed in her too short outfit. She wore a tasteful coat but her legs were certainly out. The kids were obviously dressed much warmer so he didn't worry as much about them.

Haymitch wound his arm around Effie's waist. She arched an eyebrow, because he still wasn't too keen on affection, particularly public.

"What? You're gonna get cold dressed like that. I'm doin' you a favor."

She beamed at him. "And just think of how you get to warm me up later on," purred Effie.

"I heard that. I _heard_ that," Peeta whined. He sighed, walking ahead of them, as Haymitch barked out a laugh.

They let the kids walk in front of them, Haymitch and Effie both keeping a close eye on them. They were trying to let their kids be kids, it wasn't easy, but they had a few Halloweens under their belts now and so far nothing had happened. Still, Haymitch didn't like them too far out of sight, but he tried to give them a little bit of freedom.

As usual, the night went without incident, save for one _tiny_ little thing. They were at the last house, the kids had approached the door, holding out their bags, their cries of 'Trick or treat!' echoing in the night. The woman laughed, complimented their outfits, and handed out handfuls of candy. She had a bowl of apples next to the door and she reached down for one as the children left.

Then she looked up, caught Haymitch's eye and said, "How about an apple for the handsome gentleman?"

The woman had a soft smile and shoulder length brown hair. Her skin was tan and her accent proved that she was from Seven. She seemed strong and sturdy, she was around their age, so she knew who he was, had probably watched his Games like everyone else not born in the past few years, and there was no doubt in Haymitch's mind she was flirting with him.

"No thanks," Haymitch stated with an eye roll. He was already turning to leave.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes he is." Haymitch closed his eyes and breathed deeply at the sound of Effie's voice. "He does not like apples. He hates them. In fact, he is _deathly_ allergic." Haymitch heard Peeta snicker and the Mentor snuck his Victor an amused glance. "If I catch you offering my _husband_ apples again, I will consider it an attempt at murder and have you arrested."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He turned around just in time to see Effie walk passed him, Ember in her arms. She walked ahead of them, chin up, shoulders back, smile on, though Haymitch could tell she was pissed.

" _Really_?" asked Haymitch, catching up to her. "Attempt at _murder_?"

She ignored him.

"Come on, Princess, you can't be mad at _me_. I didn't tell her to come on to me."

Effie remained silent.

"Don't be like that. _Don't_ be like." He grabbed her elbow, spun around and kissed her, hard on the lips. It took her a few heartbeats to melt into him. Finally he stepped away from her. "Is it my fault I'm still such a catch?"

Her eyes flashed and she turned her back on him. Haymitch laughed all the way home.

By the time they arrived at their house, Ava was on his back, her arms around his neck, her candy bag hitting him in the stomach with every step he took. Willow was in Peeta's arms, and Ash was dragging his candy bag on the ground. Haymitch had offered to take the bag but the boy had declined, so Haymitch let him be a man.

"Hey," Katniss said when they entered. She took one look at all of the toddlers and smiled. "Guess it went well."

"It went great," said Peeta, giving her a gentle kiss. "Except we can't have apple pie next month for Thanksgiving."

"What? Why not?" Katniss asked, clearly confused.

"Apparently Haymitch is allergic to them." Peeta fell into a fit of laughter and the scowl Haymitch sent him and Effie did not respond at all.

"Ha, real funny, boy. Shouldn't you be going home now?"

"Okay, okay." Peeta wiped his eyes. "I'll tell you about it on the way," said Peeta to Katniss, who still looked confused. "C'mon, Willow." The Mellark's made their way to their own house.

Halloween _was_ a fun night, Haymitch thought. It was something he should enjoy now, while his children were still toddlers, because eventually they would lose interest in something like this. Trick or treating was for toddlers, really, eventually they would start to want to have Halloween parties or go to Halloween parties. For now, this was an okay night, even if he would have to convince Effie to stop being mad at him.

Over all it was another Halloween for the books.

* * *

Happy Halloween! I LOVED this one! I'm back home from my weeknd in ATL. Hope you all have a safe Halloween. Leave some reviews/prompts!


	290. Girl, Interrupted

" _Cinna undressing Effie please! Love jealous Haymitch." –Guest. This had to do with a line from Chapter 202 (Damned Good Sex)._

 _Title is ONLY a play on words, and is no way related to the movie or the book._

 **GIRL, INTERRUPTED**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch barged into Effie's room, because he was used to doing so, because he was _allowed_ to do so, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

Cinna, undressing Effie.

Before he could remember that Cinna was her stylist, before he could remember that they probably did this all the time, especially since Effie had endorsed Cinna, before he could remember that Effie's dress was unusually tight and she probably _did_ need help getting her dress off, Haymitch snarled out, "I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"

He'd already helped her out of her wig, Haymitch noticed, though her real hair was still pinned up. Her face was void of all makeup and her dress was unzipped and had fallen to the floor, and she wasn't _naked_ , but all she had on was a strapless lace bra and a thong, both as red as the color of her dress. Her heels were still on, and it had all his blood going down south.

"I was just—" started Cinna.

"I know what you were _just_ ," Haymitch said. "You've done quite enough, thank you. Go find Portia."

Cinna arched an eyebrow, and Haymitch recognized it for the challenge that it was.

"If you wanna live long enough for Snow or his Peacekeepers to try and kill you, get out of my face, and away from my Escort."

"Haymitch, really," sighed Effie. She turned to Cinna. "Thank you for your help tonight. I will see you in the morning."

Cinna nodded, sending Effie a soft smile, and he made his way out of the room, Haymitch glaring at him the entire time.

"You're quite hot when you're mad, you know that?" Cinna asked Haymitch.

"Get out," snapped Haymitch, and Cinna laughed, closing the door behind him. Haymitch turned his attention back to Effie, his eyes flashing. "Fire him."

Effie rolled her eyes. "You can be so dramatic sometimes."

"He wants you."

"No _you_ want me, and you are upset because Currio Marsh got a little too familiar with me tonight. And then to walk in on me and Cinna…." Effie let her voice trail, and she turned away from him, unpinning her hair.

"Does he always undress you?"

"Not always, no. I needed help getting out of my dress, and I was not sure when you would be back."

"I just had to give Finnick my bangle—" She turned around, her eyes resting on his now empty arm, where he'd been sporting the bracelet ever since she'd gotten it for him. "It's the only thing I could think of for him to use to show Katniss that he's an ally." She frowned but did not say anything. "Don't try to change the subject. What else does Cinna do besides undress you?"

Effie sighed, shaking her curls loose and allowing her blonde tresses to fall to her shoulders. "You are ridiculous," she muttered. "Though I do not doubt that Cinna is a great lover – _incredible_ , if Portia is to be believed – I myself have never found out. For one, Portia is my _friend_ , and though there are plenty of women in the Capitol who would, I would never betray a friend – or any other woman – like that. I have been cheated on, it is not a very good feeling, and there is no man worth putting another woman through that for. On top of that, it has been a very long time since I have been with any other man _not_ named Haymitch Abernathy."

"Well don't sound so _thrilled_ , Princess," snapped Haymitch.

"You have _ruined_ me, you know you have, there is no other man in the Capitol who can do to me what you do to my body."

She faced him again, and he took in her long, lean legs, taut stomach, and full breasts. She was _hot_ , and worse, she knew she was hot, and she used that to her advantage.

He walked up to her in two strides, caressing her creamy skin and making her shiver.

"I do like when you're jealous, Darling," purred Effie.

"I'm not _jealous_ ," he spit out the word like it greatly pained him, which Effie imagined it did.

"Right, I believe the term you favor is possessive, correct?"

"Don't gloat." She chuckled and kissed him, jumping on to him and wrapping her legs around his waist.

"You shouldn't be rewarded for undressing in front of another man."

"You could not turn me away if you tried." She grinded her hips into him to prove her point, and he cursed, walking her towards her vanity. Her lips were hot on his, and were making him _crazy_. He pushed her away and started unbuckling his pants. Effie pulled him back to her, devouring his lips, and he worked on unzipping his pants while still kissing her, even though she was not making it easy.

He thought he'd go blind with lust if he didn't get into her soon, soon, soon, _soon_ , and _finally_ he was free, and he pushed himself into her, sliding her underwear aside, her legs immediately locking behind him, and together they started moving together, providing each other with the familiar and undeniable pleasure they'd gotten used to.

His teeth sunk into her neck and she cried out, digging her sharp nails into his back, making him jerk, and he mumbled out her name against her neck. A few of her perfume bottles fell off from her vanity, and somewhere in the farthest part of his mind Haymitch realized that if he broke her perfume she would kill him, so he picked her up, still stroking, and brought them to the bed.

He was on top of her for a few short moments before she completely caught him off guard and flipped them over, forcing herself on top. She pushed him down, digging her nails into his chest, and grinded on him, and it felt so damn _good_ that he forgot to be annoyed, he rarely allowed her to be on top, he didn't like the lack of control, but for now it was fine, it wasn't like he was going to be able to last too much longer.

As if reading his mind Effie let out a startled cry and came, and without truly meaning to he followed behind her.

She collapsed on top of him, breathing hard, and his arms automatically wrapped themselves around her. His lips assaulted her, and he turned them over, sucking on her neck.

"Do _not_ leave any marks on me, Haymitch," she warned him, but he ignored her, and she was not surprised, he _always_ got like this when he felt possessive, he was marking her as his.

She couldn't stop him if she wanted to, and truthfully she _didn't_ want to stop him, she liked him most when he was claiming her. It used to be a time where he wouldn't, but that had been many years ago, Effie wasn't one hundred percent sure when it had changed, but it _had_ changed.

Her last coherent thought before he slid back into her was that somehow, someway, she was going to convince Cinna to undress her again.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys! A million things happened at once: My subscription for Microsoft Office is up, and since I'm no longer a student they wanted $100 for me. Issa nah for me dawg. (If anyone has any discount codes they know I AM ALL EARS). THEN I decided that I am done with the Walking Dead, so I had to post my remaining one-shots for my story Must've Been Somethin' Else, Then in order to give my readers closure. Now I can focus solely on Hayffie.

I could use some more prompts, especially CHRISTmas ones, as it's freaking AROUND THE CORNER! I am SHOOK.

Missed you all. Can't wait to start posting regularly again!


	291. Kissing You

Title taken from the Faith Evans song, but not a song fic, just a borrowed title. This is more so a 5x Haymitch kisses Effie in a… somewhat romantic setting.

 **KISSING YOU**

 **Rated T**

1.

They are not arguing today. They have made a truce. It shocks him a little, because they have never been on the same page before. He thinks seeing his Games air actually break her, more than their arguments, more than his harsh truths, more than his drinking.

He walks in on her drinking, tears running down on her face, but there is not pity there. There's… _fire_ , and it's the most emotion she's allowed him to see in the five years that she's been his Escort.

He doesn't say anything – what is there to say? – but the next morning when he wakes up, there's a bottle of the Capitol's darkest and best liquor at his door, wrapped in a champagne pink bow, and a card that simply says, " _You were right, and I am sorry_ ," in her dainty little handwriting.

They share the bottle when their Tributes die, which ends up becoming their routine – no matter how angry they are at each other, they drink in the memory of their Tributes – and they drink together.

At some point he offers to get them food, and she can't quite hide the surprise in her eyes. That's two emotions in as many weeks that she's given him, and the smile she gives him when he sits her plate down in front of her is blinding, and it makes his heart skip a beat.

When she is piss face drunk, Effie lying on the coach, snorting softly – and it figures his Escort would even _snore_ properly – he chuckles softly, and like she has done for him on countless occasions, he takes the blanket from the couch and covers her.

Then, against his own will, he bends down and places a lingering kiss on her forehead.

They have shared many kisses by this point, kissing is the quickest way to shut her up, but it is the first one that does not start because of a fight.

It is the first time Effie realizes how much she admires his scruff.

…

2.

She is dancing with Finnick – at the young Victor's request – and he doesn't yet know what charm O'dair possesses to get his Escort to smile like that. Haymitch is not about to admit hat he is _jealous_ of a fourteen-year-old boy but he can't help but scowl when Effie ends her dance with a forehead kiss.

The look on Finnick's face reminds Haymitch of how he feels every time he kisses his Escort, only he's not allowed to show those feelings.

In fact, he works hard to not show her anything.

Which is why he pretends he doesn't care that Finnick has a crush on his Escort.

Still, when he leaves the Capitol that year, he can't help but place a kiss on her cheek that she pretends doesn't confuse her.

He smirks at Finnick and he's still too young to understand the look that Haymitch gives him means she's off limits.

…

3.

When she finally returns to the Penthouse he is not as drunk as he wants to be. He imagines that he has made a complete fool of himself, and for once he actually does care.

He supposed causing somewhat of scene at the Capitol party wasn't the _best_ idea, and dragging his Escort off in front of everyone hadn't been that wise.

"Are you _happy_?" she hisses at him, and how angry she looks makes all the blood run down south.

It has been two years since he's had her, and he plans on changing that tonight.

"I have called off my engagement to Seneca," finishes Effie.

His grey eyes drop down to her ring finger, and he doesn't understand the feelings running through his veins until he gets up and places his lips on hers.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and more than that there is _relief_ there, and it shocks him. She seems just as shocked when he finally pulls away, she's blinking rapidly and her face is blank, save for her blue eyes, which were searching his.

He wants to thank her, thank her for sacrificing, thank her for ending it, thank her for allowing him to be selfish.

Instead he just kisses her again, his hand cupping the back of her neck, deepening the kiss.

He takes her to bed feeling _good_.

…

4.

Haymitch doesn't know who she is dancing with and he doesn't care. He doesn't tell the Capitol man to beat it, or that he wanted to dance with his Escort. One minute she is spinning with the Capitol puppet and the next minute she is in his arms, the Capitol peacock blinking in confusion.

Effie's eyes register shock as well, but then she is sending him one of her blinding smiles that makes his heart skip a beat. He sends her his signature smirk and tries not to give too much away – they both know they are being watched and he knows they need to be more careful than ever – but he cannot resist dancing with her.

They sway together for several moments, and he wonders if she hears the music, or like him, everything around him disappears.

He pulls her close, wondering how many more stolen moments they would have together. It is stupid and albeit selfish to think of that at this time, but he cannot help it.

She sighs as she rests her head on his chest. It is probably too much, if Snow is watching – and most like he is – then they are not being very smart, but he figures there can't be too much harm in dancing with his Escort as their Victory Party.

It is Finnick who interrupts them, and Haymitch supposes it's a warning of sorts. Finnick's smile is mostly strained, and he wonders if Chaff has finally convinced the boy on Haymitch's stupidity in _falling for his Escort_.

Haymitch backs away but not before pressing a simple kiss to Effie's wrist.

He walks away before her smile gets etched into his brain.

…

5.

Effie and Haymitch have both come to the conclusion that Peeta and Katniss are being impossible on purpose, and Haymitch is not in the _mood_. The Victory Tour has been _hell_ and Effie is _trying_ , but Katniss, as usual, is being _fucking_ impossible, and even Peeta seems more clueless than usual.

He is annoyed and tired, the Ball is only a few hours away, and Katniss and Peeta have not learned anything.

Cinna and Portia have even reached their wits end.

Finally fed up Haymitch snaps for the two Victors to _shut up_ _and_ _pay attention_ , and he grabs Effie around the waist and starts waltzing. The train gets quiet but to Haymitch it was quiet the moment his hand touches his Escort's waist.

They waltz together, and he _hopes_ the boy and the girl get it, but he's stopped thinking about them and instead gets lost in Effie's eyes.

Neither of them realize they are alone until the music stops.

She blinks as the magic ends, and then she is blushing, talking about how it's time for bed, and they have a big, big, day tomorrow. She's halfway out the room when Haymitch starts the next song and holds out his hand.

She stops and turns to face him, and then meets him halfway.

He takes her hand and kisses it, his lips firm on hers.

Her giggle is quiet, but when he is inside her, he is not so sure she's quiet enough.

Cinna smirks at them for the rest of the Tour, and Portia keeps winking at Effie.

They both ignore them.

…

6.

When she finally wakes he is nearly finished packing. He likes to pretend that had she not woken up he would have just walked out, met Plutarch, and stepped on to that hovercraft without a second thought.

He knows it's bullshit.

She leans against her doorframe in a move that he has perfected over the years, dressed in the shirt he wore earlier. Her hair is still wild, evidence of what they had done, and there was a bright red mark on her neck where he'd claimed her.

Something to remember him, he'd told herself.

She folds her arms under her chest, and it takes all of the willpower in him not to say screw it and just screw her again.

When he is finished he zips up his bag and looks at her.

He thinks what he loves most about her is that there are no tears in her eyes.

She doesn't say a word, she just wraps herself around him, and they embrace for a long time, long enough for him to think about how different things could be.

When he kisses her, his mouth firm, his lips soft, he hopes she knows how much she means to him, because he can't tell her.

He _won't_ tell her.

When he pulls away she looks at him, her eyes still dry. "Stay alive," she whispers, and he nods. "Don't look back."

It takes everything he has in him not to.

…

7.

When she _finally_ opens her eyes he is the first thing she sees: dark grey eyes filled with dread, and for a brief moment, relief.

"Hey, Princess."

Everything hurts, _everything_ hurts, and she thinks she is broken beyond repair.

"The kids?"

"Katniss and Peeta are alive." When he doesn't continue she already knows Finnick is not. She closes her eyes, breathing deeply. She thinks she wants to cry but doesn't think she can cry anymore.

"You stayed alive," she whispers.

"Only because you told me to. Dying would be easier."

She reaches for him, and he's there, his fingers familiar. "I have missed you. I thought I would never see you again."

"It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me." She smiles like he meant her to, but it looks like it pains her.

They are silent for a few moments. "How bad is it?"

"You're _alive_ , Princess, and that's enough for me." He kisses her, and she lets him.

Neither of them talk about how it won't be enough for her.

…

8.

The meadow is filled with sunflowers, primroses, and dandelions now. It is no longer the graveyard it once was, but a park where children can play and where teenagers tend to make out on the weekends.

Haymitch and Effie have left Sae's and decided to take the scenic route back home, and they are holding hands, neither of them really talking.

They don't have to. Three years after the War they were finally picking up the pieces of their lives. They were learning to rise from the ashes, as ridiculous as that sounds, but it was _true_.

They were halfway home when Haymitch stops, picks a few flowers, and thrusts them at her. She gives him a bright smile that she doesn't use enough, but has been using more.

She blushes a little, giving him a soft thank you. Her eyes dart down to his lips and he takes that as his cue, brushing her cheek with his thumb, and pressing his lips to hers.

She returns the kiss tentatively, and it's everything he remembers about kissing her.

He thinks they will probably be okay.

…

9.

They are hurrying from their weekly date of ice cream, because they can _smell_ the rain coming,

They are at the kissing gates of Victor's Village when it starts pouring. It didn't wait, it didn't drizzle, it _pours_ , and they are drenched within seconds. Effie does not know if she is amused or not, she just knows the rain is ruining her _favorite_ pink shirt and really she just wants to get home and dry off.

So when Haymitch stops her and pulls her to him she is surprised, because he is not the type to kiss her in the rain, only he _is_ , no warning, no rhyme or reason, just _cause_ , and so she wraps her arms around his neck and he wraps his arms around her waist and they are _into it_.

The moan he elicits from her shoots straight to his groin and there's a fire building in the pit of her stomach, and Effie no longer cares about her ruined shirt, or her drenched hair. Haymitch's hair is sticking to his forehead but all she can feel is his tongue in her mouth.

"Oh, get a _room_ ," Katniss calls, and they hear Peeta snort.

Haymitch pulls away, palming Effie's cheek. "Don't mind if we do, Sweetheart," and he doesn't know if Katniss hears him or not, but it doesn't matter.

"Take me home, Haymitch," whispers Effie.

He obliges, and once inside he's all over her, and what starts off as innocent and sweet quickly turns to hot and bothered, and then they are kissing like never before.

"It started with a kiss," she tells him when they are finished, and they never even make it to the bedroom, they are in the living room, half naked, on the floor.

Haymitch smiles, because she is right. "And it'll end with one," he tells her, and he leans over and plants a soft kiss on her still swollen lips.

There was nothing better than kissing her.


	292. Of Victors, Threats, and Thank-Yous

_Prompt –_ " _Have ant of your stories used other victors? Outside of Haymitch's crew. What about a career Victor's interactions with Hayffie somehow?" –Guest. I have NOT done this, funnily enough. Excited to explore this._

 **OF VICTORS, THREATS, AND THANK-YOU'S**

 **Rated M**

Effie and Haymitch made their way through the mob of people, smiling and waving at the crowd. Random people came up to them, all of them wanting to shake their hands and pat them on the back.

It was utterly ridiculous, all of it. Effie had thought that this was the moment dreams would be made of, she had waited for this moment for most of her career, and now that it was here she realized it was not all it was cracked up to be.

She was already exhausted, and the night was still _very_ much young.

Haymitch's hand rested on the small of her back, and it was her only source of comfort, having him near, more sober than she'd ever seen, because he _had_ to be.

"Effie, Haymitch." Both of them stopped at the same time, Haymitch's hand gently guiding her to end up slightly behind him as he stepped forward. "We just wanted to offer our congratulations."

Haymitch stared at Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Enobaria. Cashmere was the one who had spoken, her blonde hair in large curls, her blue eyes sparkling with something sinister.

He didn't trust any of them as far as he could throw them, and they stayed out of each other's way for the most part.

"Thanks," Haymitch said, playing the game. "We appreciate it."

He grabbed Effie, intent on moving them along, but Brutus stepped in his way.

"I know you must be happy," Brutus said, looking at Effie. "Maybe now you can finally get that promotion you've been gunning for. I know I could certainly use an Escort like you." He looked her over, making his intentions abundantly clear.

Haymitch felt his fingers twitch, and Effie shifted, gently brushing her fingers against his, silently telling him to calm down. "That is very kind of you, Brutus, but I am very happy with Twelve. Now if you all would excuse us, we have to go and thank our Sponsors."

"You know I find it _really_ hard to believe," started Gloss smoothly, again quietly blocking their way, "that Head Gamekeeper Crane would allow two Victors."

"President Snow allowed two Victors," Haymitch corrected automatically. "If he hadn't of wanted it to happen, it wouldn't have."

Enobaria shrugged, much too casually. "Perhaps. Maybe President Snow allowed it so that he could make an example out of Katniss and Peeta. You of all people know a thing or two about being made an example out of, don't you Haymitch?"

Effie stiffened at Enobaria's words. "Please refrain from talking to my Mentor like that." Effie's voice was cold.

Brutus arched an eyebrow. "Oh, your Mentor? Is that what we're calling it now?"

"What would _you_ call it?" baited Haymitch, _itching_ for him to say it.

"Haymitch's _bitch_ seems most accurate," and Haymitch thought it was clever to have Cashmere say it, because had it been Brutus….

"I guess that's a right sight better than being the Capitol's whore, right?" Haymitch snorted. "Did you ever get that rash taken care of? I know the Capitol's known for making things nearly brand new."

Cashmere flushed. "I have _never_ had a transmissible disease," snapped Cashmere, stepping closer to Haymitch.

"I don't know how you can call Cashmere a whore when your Escort has slept with as many men."

Haymitch rolled his eyes at Gloss. "My Escort is twice your sister's age, she's allowed to have had that many partners. Now if you don't mind, kindly move aside please. I will not ask you again."

"Is that a threat, Haymitch?" Cashmere could be intimidating when she wanted to be, she was tall, with long legs, not to mention skyscraper heels, and she had a presence about her that commanded respect.

Haymitch hated her.

"You can call it whatever the fuck you want to, Sweetheart, but I want you out of my way."

Cashmere smiled coldly. "Make me."

"I could." Haymitch's voice was calm. "I've killed eight people in my Games, I'm sure you remember. Eleven, if you wanna include my family and dead girl. You know, the three casualties used to make an example out of me. But I've physically killed eight people. That's twice as many as you four have killed combined. Do you really think I give a _fuck_ about what'll happen to me? With any luck if I take you four out Snow will finally kill me and put me out of my misery."

"Who says you'd even make it out of this alive?" Brutus taunted.

"Eight Tributes, to your two kills, Brutus. You _seriously_ wanna risk that?" Haymitch grabbed his knife from behind his back, flicking it open. "It's not much but it can do some damage."

"Haymitch, don't," Effie warned.

He ignored her.

"Haymitch, Effie, there you two are!" Effie turned and saw Chaff working his way through the crowd, his face strained. Finnick, Johanna, and Seeder were behind him. "Brutus, Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria. What a pleasant surprise!"

The Four Careers snarled, but backed away a few feet as the group made their way towards them.

"This isn't over," whispered Cashmere. She looked him over, her eyes boring into his. "I'm sure we'll meet again soon."

Brutus looked at Effie. "And I'm sure I'll see you soon. Haymitch can't protect you forever. He has to go back home sometime."

"You will do well to stay the hell away from me," Effie started, her eyes flashing.

"You fucking touch her, _ever_ , I will cut your body up and send it to Snow himself." Brutus jerked terribly, and Haymitch approached him. "I swear to fucking God if I hear you were ever in her _neighborhood_ , I will kill you. When we come to your city on the Victory Tour, you better be sick, because if you come near Effie, I _will_ end you, am I _fucking_ clear?"

Before anybody else could say anything another familiar voice called out to them. "Effie! Haymitch!"

Haymitch spared him a glance. "Heavensbee." He gave a curt nod and then his eyes were back on Brutus. "Congratulations," Plutarch was saying, stepping in between Brutus and Haymitch and reaching for Haymitch's hand. "And Ms. Trinket! I know you much be over the moon. Come, come, we must get to the Victor's Lounge, and please, allow me to the first to buy you both a drink." Plutarch smiled at the Careers. "Oh, do pardon us. You four can't keep our newest winners all to yourselves now." And then Plutarch was chuckling and moving them along, Chaff and the gang behind him. Plutarch lowered his voice. "Put that knife away _now_ before you get yourself killed."

"He threatened Effie."

"I don't _care_. Put it away now, get a glass of alcohol and _get a grip_." And then Plutarch was gone, and Chaff and Johanna were by his side. Finnick went to Effie, Haymitch noted.

"You good, Mate?" Chaff asked.

"Fuck no," snapped Haymitch. "I'd have slit his throat with no questions asked."

"Well I don't doubt that," Johanna said with an eye roll.

Haymitch ignored her, suddenly looking around for Cinna or Portia. He didn't see them and he scowled.

"You good?" asked Haymitch, glancing at Effie, his hand back on the small of her back.

"Yes," Effie said, but he could tell she was _not_ good, she was probably pissed that he'd lost his temper, but she'd get over it.

It wasn't until they were _finally_ back at the Penthouse, the sky pink as the sun started to rise, that she rounded on him, wrapping him a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered against his neck, and only then did he realize how scared she must have been. He was surprised, she had held her own, but Brutus was twice her size.

"I meant every word. I _will_ kill him if he comes near you."

"I know." She kissed his neck, and he took her to bed, despite the fact that they were both exhausted, because she needed it, and damn it he did too.

It wasn't until she was asleep that he _finally_ made his way to Cinna's, and Haymitch wasn't surprised to see that he was already up.

"I heard you had an eventful night," the stylist stated casually, leaning against his doorframe.

Haymitch waved that away. "I need you and Portia to keep an eye on Effie."

Cinna took a sip of what Haymitch thought was coffee. "You seriously think Brutus would—"

"I wouldn't put shit passed a Career. Brutus still gets his fair share of ass in this city, so he has access to Effie and I don't fucking like it."

Cinna nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Take care of _her_."

Cinna nodded again. "Get some sleep. You have a fitting for your press conference in a few hours."

Haymitch nodded and turned and walked away, intent on heading to his own room, only his feet carried him back to Effie's. He'd _hate_ himself for this, because the world was surely going to _shit_ , but for now, he would enjoy her.

For now, he could pretend.


	293. A Bad Case of Chickenpox

Wee bit of angst.

 **A BAD CASE OF CHICKENPOX**

 **Rated T**

Effie had just taken a bite of toast, bringing her mug of coffee to her lips, when she heard Ash _finally_ clomp downstairs. It wasn't like him to drag along, he loved school. Normally Effie and Ash were waiting for Ava, not the other way around.

When Ash appeared in the kitchen, still in his pajamas, Effie frowned. "Oh, shit," she said, without thinking.

She _rarely_ cursed, when she did she was either really upset or really horny, there was no in between. The word had Haymitch spinning around and Ava gasping.

Haymitch saw immediately why Effie had cursed, and he felt this dread start swimming in the pit of his stomach.

"Mom, I don't feel good," Ash admitted, and it was obvious what was wrong: there were several visible spots all over, and he was scratching his face almost as if he had fleas.

 _Chickenpox_.

"I'll call Katniss," sighed Haymitch, and he reached for the phone, his hands shaking slightly. Katniss picked up on the third ring, sounding harassed. "Hey, Sweetheart."

"Hey, Haymitch, is it important or can I call you back? Willow has chickenpox."

Haymitch sighed again. "So does Ash."

A slight pause, then—"We'll be right over."

"Willow has it too?" deduced Effie, and Haymitch nodded, placing the phone back on the receiver. Effie's voice hitched. "Ava and Willow are in the same class," Effie said quietly.

"Well Ash and Ava _live together_ ," pointed out Haymitch.

"So either she has it, or she is about to get it," Effie agreed. Haymitch sighed for the third time as he watched Effie feel Ash's head. Effie frowned, presumably at how warm Ash was. "I have never had chickenpox, I do not quite know what to expect or what to do."

"We could give him an oatmeal bath," suggested Haymitch.

Effie frowned. " _What_?"

"We just need baking soda and oatmeal. I'm sure we got some last time we went grocery shopping." Haymitch started rummaging around in the pantry, giving himself something to do to calm his shaken nerves.

"What is _that_ supposed to do?"

"Relieve the itching."

Effie gently grabbed Ash's hand to stop him from scratching his face, and then glanced at Haymitch. "An oatmeal bath? Are you _sure_?" She had never heard of such a thing, and the Capitol had its own fair share of tricks.

"Yes." She missed the warning in his voice because she had started to check Ava for spots, concerned when she couldn't remember if the mark on her neck was a freckle or a chickenpox.

"How do you know?"

"Because I had a brother who had chickenpox once, and had a mother perfectly capable of curing it." Effie flinched, hard, and she heard Haymitch exhale loudly. "I did _not_ mean that the way it sounded, Princess."

She blinked rapidly, not immediately meeting Haymitch's eye. Ash was staring at his father, a small frown on his face, and Ava just stared curiously. At only five she was still gloriously oblivious to anything that wasn't cartoons.

"Ash, why don't you go ahead and go back upstairs? Ava, you too." Ava went with a simple shrug of her shoulders. Ash stared at Haymitch for a few more moments before glancing at his mother. At twelve he was quite protective of her now. "Go ahead. We will be up in a minute." Ash turned and walked upstairs and Effie finally turned and faced Haymitch.

"We can try an oatmeal bath."

Haymitch cringed at how detached she sounded.

"Effie, I wasn't sayin' you were a bad mom. I _wasn't_. You're a great mom. You _know_ that."

"So what were you saying, Haymitch?" Effie folded her arms across her chest.

"You asked how I knew, I told you."

Effie had a retort ready, but at that moment Katniss walked in, Willow in tow. She had bright red spots on her face and arms.

Effie turned to Katniss. "I just sent Ash and Ava upstairs. Maybe we should put Willow in Ash's room?"

Katniss stared between Haymitch and Effie, clearly understanding that she had walked in on something. She hesitated, and then nodded, heading upstairs. Effie waited until she was sure Katniss could not hear them.

"I am sorry I do not know how to cure chickenpox. In the Capitol there is a shot for that, all children get them, and it prevents it from spreading. I will try to do better at knowing Twelve's remedies. I suppose I could go to the library and read up on it."

"Effie—"

"I am sorry I am not your mother, or Nova for that matter, and I am sorry I am nothing more than a stupid Capitol bitch—"

"Stop it. Now." The warning in his voice was obvious.

Effie was spared from responding again when Katniss called for her. She took a deep breath, visibly changing her demeanor, like she had done all those years ago in the Capitol. Without sparing another glance at Haymitch, Effie made her way upstairs, Haymitch slowly following behind her.

"Hey," Katniss said when she saw them, meeting them in the hallway outside Ash's room. "They want a fort." The girl rolled her eyes. "And I'm thinking we should get Ember to our place. Peeta can watch her and Rye while Ash, Willow, and Ava stay here."

Effie nodded. "That is a good idea. I will pack a few of Ember's things and I can assist Peeta. I'll leave the chickenpox exports to handle things here." Her voice was much too high, her smile much too strained, and Katniss' eyes narrowed. Effie was gone before anyone could say anything.

" _What_ did you do?" accused Katniss, whispering fiercely.

"I made her feel like _shit_ ," Haymitch sighed. "I fucked up."

"What else is new? You fuck up a lot. So I'll repeat: what did you do?"

"I might have made it seem like my mom was a better mom than she was, since my kid brother had had chickenpox as a child and my mom knew what to do."

Katniss closed her eyes. "Haymitch…."

"I didn't mean it, it just slipped out."

At that moment Effie exited out of their master bedroom, her hair pinned up. She walked by, heading towards Ember's room, paying them no mind as she did.

Inside Ember's room Effie went to their sleeping daughter, smiling softly.

"When _you_ catch chickenpox, I will know what to do," she whispered. She blinked back the tears and started grabbing a few outfits for Ember, packing her overnight bag. She sat the bag next to the door and then made her way back down to her own bedroom, passing Ash's room and noticing the fort Katniss and Haymitch were building. "Ava, come on and get changed back into your pajamas." Ava ran out of the room. "Slow down, Missy." She looked up, barely sparing Haymitch a glance. "I will call the school and let them know Ash, Willow, and Ava will be out for the next couple of days."

And then she was off to their bedroom, packing a few things for a couple of days.

"You're running away," Haymitch accused a few moments later.

Effie rolled her eyes, unsurprised he had found her. "I am going to Peeta's, Haymitch, not the Capitol." She zipped up the small suitcase and walked passed him, then she made her way back to Ash's room, dropping the bag outside the door. The fort had been made and the three children were underneath it, already horsing around. "Ash, Ava, come here for a moment." They came immediately. "Mommy's going to stay with Uncle Peeta for a little while, just until you two are better, okay? We do not want Ember to be sick."

She knew immediately the children were not having it.

"I'm going with you," stated Ash.

"No, you are going to stay here with Daddy and Aunt Katniss.

Ash gave her a snarl that looked so much like Haymitch she almost caved. "Wanna bet?"

"Do _not_ take that tone with me, young man," Effie stated sternly.

"Mom." Ava's bright blue eyes filled with tears. "Stay."

Effie blinked rapidly. "It would not be very proper to expect Uncle Peeta to take care of Ember and Rye by himself, with all three of us here taking care of you three. Your father and Aunt Katniss are perfectly capable of taking care of you three while Uncle Peeta and I take care of the littlest ones."

"But _you're Mom_. You _always_ take care of us."

"Who's gonna tell us bedtime stories?" asked Ash.

"Your father reads to you every other night."

"Yah but it's _your_ night."

Effie reached out to both of them. "I will be back in a couple of days, as soon as it is no longer contagious, okay? I will read to you two for a week straight, and I will come over before you guys go to sleep." She ruffled Ash's dark 'locs, kissed Ava, and then embraced them both. "I love you both."

Effie finally stood, noting Katniss next to Willow. Haymitch stood at the doorway, a scowl on his face, his arms folded across his chest.

"Call if you need anything," Effie told Katniss, reaching out and touching the girl's arm. Then she bent down in front of Willow. "You make sure you get better too, okay?"

Willow nodded and reached out and touched Effie's cheek. "Don't be sad."

Effie stiffened, forgetting how much like Peeta Willow was. She cleared her throat, and forced a smile. Then she stood up, heading towards the door.

"You should bring the television of up here so that they are comfortable," Effie told Haymitch, gently touching his arm. And then she was walking away, heading towards Ember's room, picking up her still sleeping daughter and cradling her in her arms.

She grabbed Ember's bag, nearly jerking at the sight of Haymitch. He could be _so quiet_ sometimes.

"Give your daughter a kiss," Effie requested. He did as he was told, gently kissing Ember. Their daughter stirred, but stayed asleep. "I will be back in a couple of days."

"You'll be back tonight, so we can talk."

"There is nothing to discuss," deflected Effie.

"Bull—"

"Do _not_ finish that statement, Haymitch," Effie scowled, glancing at Ember. "I will see you in a couple of days."

If she thought she could brush him off, she was wrong. When it was time for her to tell the kids goodnight he was nowhere to be found, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief, except when she went outside to head back to Peeta's Haymitch was on the front porch.

"My mom didn't magically know how to cure chickenpox." He wasn't looking at her, he was just rocking on the rocking chair, an almost fall breeze ruffling his hair. "She had asked Sae, actually. She used to be our neighbor."

Effie stilled, not looking at him, but not walking away, either.

"I didn't mean it."

"What did you mean by it then?"

"I felt like you were questionin' _me_ when I suggested the oatmeal bath. _That's_ why I said that. I was jus sayin' I knew someone who knew what to do. I wasn't saying you were a bad mom. I would _never_. And I wish you would give me _some_ fucking credit. I have said a lot of _stupid_ shit to try and hurt you, but we're passed that, yah? I don't want you to be my mother and I don't want you to be Nova, and you're not some stupid Capitol bitch any more than I'm the drunken Victor trying to hurt you. I don't much appreciate the accusation."

Effie sighed and finally turned to look at him.

" _And_ I don't appreciate you shutting me out and running away, either. _This_ is your home. I don't care if we fight, but you don't get to _hide_ because you're mad at me."

"I was afraid of saying something to hurt you," Effie admitted to him. "I do not know how long I am supposed to compete with ghosts."

They had never talked about her. Sometimes they talked about his mother. Ash resembled her sometimes, so there were more talks of her. They never discussed Nova, he had never seen a reason to.

Haymitch remained silent for several moments. "Every hurt… every _fear_ I had ever had… you filled tenfold. I'm not… look, that broken man you knew all those years ago… he is _gone_ , Effie." He looked at her. "I don't think of Nova. I have no reason to. _None_. And you ain't competing with her anymore."

Effie walked up to him, sitting on his lap. He pulled her to him, inhaling her scent.

"I am sorry. I guess I am still pretty insecure. And of course as a mother I worry that I am doing something wrong…."

"You're a _good_ mother," Haymitch said, staring at her. "I mean that. The kids didn't want you to go. _I_ didn't want you to go."

"I _was_ leaving because I was mad. But I also didn't want to leave Peeta alone with Ember and Rye. Rye is very much still demanding, and I knew he needed help."

Haymitch nodded, kissing her temple. "Well you will be pleased to know that the kids made quite the fuss over the oatmeal bath. _And_ quite the mess. But they're not scratching as much."

Effie placed her lips on Haymitch's. "You are a good father. And an amazing husband. And I love you." And then she cringed. "You said your brother got chickenpox. Did you?"

"No. I'm immune, though."

Effie remained quiet.

"I am. It'll be fine," he waved away her concern.

She hoped he was right. She couldn't _imagine_ having to deal with _Haymitch_ getting chickenpox too.

Then she really _might_ leave.


	294. Babysitting Duties

_Prompt—"_ _I love these so much. Its become my morning newspaper! Please do more with Hayffie baby sitting? Maybe Effie coming home to find Haymitch being dressed up and then a few days later Haymitch coming home to find Effie crawling around playing cars with Rye and making vroom noises?_ _" –Queen Regents of the North._

Changed cars to Hovercrafts

 **BABYSITTING DUTIES**

 **Rated T**

Effie was utterly _exhausted_. She had been helping Peeta out with bakery lately since one of his workers had just gotten married and was currently honeymooning in Four. Peeta needed the extra help, and Effie needed something to do because she was _not_ made to just sit in the house and knit, so Peeta had agreed to allow her to help out at the store. They both found that she wasn't terrible, at her core Effie Trinket was a crowd pleaser, people had not perhaps _forgotten_ her roles in the Games but they'd at least forgiven her somewhat, she was liked well enough around Town, and Peeta found her to be a great help.

This passed week had been pretty busy, a new family had moved in, and as was custom, the neighbors bought sweets as a gift. The orders kept Peeta busy, and Effie too, and it was finally the end of the week, and all Effie wanted to do was get home, soak in the tub, and convince Haymitch to join her.

It wasn't like her to turn down sex, but lately she had been bone tired, they'd only done it a few times this week, and she owed him. He'd been awfully patient, and she thought he deserved a weekend of her making it up to him.

She had planned to start unbuttoning her dress the moment she stepped into the house, only the sight of Haymitch stopped her cold.

He must have lost track of time, because the first thing he did when they made eye contact was turn and face the clock.

Effie just stood there, taking it all in: Haymitch and Willow, at the table, Willow looking _adorable_ in a pretty dress, her hair tied up, and around her dainty little neck was what was unmistakably a pair of Effie's pearls.

Haymitch, on the other hand, looked utterly _ridiculous_ , with his hair in a God- _awful_ ponytail, he had on blush and the worst shade of lipstick she'd ever seen on a human being. That was _nothing_ in comparison to the floral dress he had on, it was a halter top of all things, tied around his neck, and _it did not fit_ , it was one of her _favorite_ dresses and it was without a doubt _ruined_ now.

"Glam-Ma, do you see Granpy Haymitch?!" asked Willow, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Unfortunately," Effie replied, still unable to move.

" _I_ picked out the dress, isn't it pretty?"

"It _was_ ," agreed Effie, blinking rapidly.

"We're have tea. Would you care to join us?"

Effie continued to look at Haymitch, who looked like he'd rather be back in the _Capitol_ than having been caught like this. "No, thank you. Glam-Ma is going to go upstairs and take a nice, hot bath, okay?" She finally closed the front door and made her way into the house, kissing Willow on top of her head. "Haymitch, Darling, you look _beautiful_."

Haymitch snarled at her. "You remember that time I caught you playing with paper hovercrafts with Rye?"

Effie cringed. "You were never supposed to mention that again."

"You never say anything about this, I'll never say anything about that."

Effie nodded. "Deal."

She waited until she was upstairs before falling down in fits of laughter.


	295. Dark Nights

ETA: This is for Sally, who asked me to notate the chapter where Ash first comes to live with Hayffie: it's chapter 23. :)

* * *

 **DARK NIGHTS**

 **Rated M**

Haymitch thrashed in his sleep and Effie startled awake. She immediately reached out and started shaking him awake. He moaned, nearly kicking her, and Effie shook him harder. With a gasp Haymitch sat up, his body flushed with sweat, and before he was fully awake he was out of bed and running to the bathroom.

He'd emptied his stomach by the time she'd gotten to him.

She wasn't surprised. They'd been through this quite a few times now.

"Is he… we should… check on him." He was both trying to talk, get up, and throw up at the same time.

"Haymitch, he's fine," Effie said. He shook his head. "He _is_. We would have heard something." With a gentle sigh she bent down and pulled his hair back. She caressed the small of his back soothingly until he cursed softly and ran his hands over his face. He was shaking, and his skin was clammy.

"Come on," Effie said gently, and he helped him stand up. He made his way over to the sink and rinsed out his mouth. When he was finished he gripped the sink, staring at his reflection. His eyes were haunted, his skin sunk in. He looked like he was going through withdrawals.

"I wanna check on him," stated Haymitch, and Effie nodded. Together they made their way out of their room and made their way down the hall. Haymitch took a deep breath and opened the door to his son's room.

He let out a slow breath once he realized he was fine. Ash was fine. He was still fast asleep in his hovercraft bed, snoring softly, just like his mother. Haymitch quietly approached him, taking in the entire room with one look around. Nothing was out of place. Nothing had moved.

Ash was _fine_.

It had just been a nightmare. Only a nightmare.

"I think I'm gonna shower," muttered Haymitch once they made their way back to their room. It was the middle of the night, but he needed the relaxation, and the time to get himself back together.

"Haymitch—"

"I'm okay, Effie. Just let me shower." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and headed off to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He undressed, turning the water as hot as it could go, and stepped inside, immediately resting his head on the tile. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He could feel his heart pounding harshly, nearly escaping out of his chest.

 _Breathe, Haymitch_ , he told himself. _Just fucking breathe_.

A few seconds later the shower curtain moved back, and Effie was stepping in.

"No," said Haymitch harshly, turning to her, his eyes panicked. "We can't leave Ash alone."

"He's _fine_ , Haymitch," Effie whispered, and then she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him and planting kisses along his neck. "Our son is fine."

"I'm so scared, Effie."

"I know." She could feel the tears coming. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He pushed her back so that he could look at her, noting the tears in her eyes. "I don't regret you getting pregnant or having him or bringing him home. It'll just take some adjusting."

"I hate seeing you like this."

"I haven't had to really worry about anyone else for a long time."

"I know." Effie choked out a sob and pulled him back to her. "Let me comfort you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and he planted a kiss on her lips, hard, hot, rough. He pushed her against the wall, his teeth scraping hers. She moaned, sucking on his lips and eliciting a low growl from his throat.

They hadn't had much time for this with trying to adjust to a child in the house. For one Haymitch was afraid that Ash would just barge in on them one night, and that they'd scar the kid for life. Then he was afraid that Effie's screams of pleasure would wake the child up. On top of that he was distracted half the time, because he _had a bloody child down the hall_.

Tonight nature seemed to be taking over, though. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. Ash had been here for a little over two weeks now and he and Effie had only made love once, when Ash was at Katniss and Peeta's. Anytime the boy was in the house he couldn't do it.

Tonight would be different.

He kept her pinned against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he immediately slid into her. She yelled out, her hips already eagerly meeting his. She dug her nails into his back, forcing him in deeper. She pleaded with him to go harder, and he obliged, already breathless as the pleasure started to consume him.

Her first orgasm nearly made him cum, but she told him not to stop. He pulled out, turning her around, and she palmed the tile as he entered her again. She whimpered when his hands grabbed her breasts, forcing her against him. She met his thrusts, turning around to kiss him. One of her arms circled around his neck, bringing his face to hers, while one of his arms locked around her breasts and the other slid down to her center. He fingered her while he stroked her and she bucked against him.

He kissed her, swallowing her orgasm. This time she grabbed the showerhead – it was the only thing tangible – in order to help keep her balanced. She moaned, rapidly calling his name, and he went in and out of her at a hasty pace.

"Let me see you cum," Effie whispered. "I miss seeing you cum."

"Fuck, Effie," mewled Haymitch. He spun her around, picked her up, and slammed back into her. His breath was short as he slid into her, and it didn't take long for the pleasure to build and reach its peak.

Both of them cried out as they came, their eyes locked, and he pushed her back against the wall, his hips rocking for several more moments, Effie taking every drop.

He rested his head against hers and she attacked his lips. He responded, his tongue sliding into hers, and he thought he might be able to go again, except she finally lowered her legs so that she was level with him.

She kept her arms wrapped around him and just held him until he felt his body start to relax. After several moments they finally showered and then made their way back to bed, where he pulled her to him.

"I needed you," Haymitch said to Effie. "I thought I needed the bottle, or a good night's sleep, but really I just needed you." He kissed her neck. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you away."

"You haven't been," stated Effie, maneuvering her body so that she was looking at him. "Most new parents have a hard time figuring out when to have sex. Your nightmares have made you paranoid. It's all understandable."

He was damned lucky to have her. He'd never felt lucky before.

"I've missed you these past few weeks."

Effie smiled. "I've certainly missed you too." She gave him a soft kiss. "It's always darkest before dawn, Haymitch. We'll get through this, okay? Let's go to sleep."

He gave her another kiss, this time on the head, and drifted off to sleep.


	296. Of Dates, Dances, & Dandelion Yellow

Also: Sally, I updated the previous story for you to include what you asked for in the previous chapter :)

* * *

 _Prompt—"-a ball were must be a king and a queen. Lucious wants to go with Effie._ _" –marizpe_

 _Continues my HP/HG universe, the last chapter being Chapter 215._

 **OF DATES, DANCES, AND DANDELION YELLOW**

 **Rated T**

Effie saw the numerous posters around the school and ignored them. The fact that the Christmas dance was _two days away_ and Haymitch _still_ hadn't asked her yet greatly annoyed her.

Was she reading the signs wrong? Did he only enjoy her in the confines of the Common Room? Neither of them had bothered to be very open with _each other_ , let alone other people, but surely he wanted to go to a _ball_ with her….

At this rate she would be the only one without a date.

Three different men had asked her and she had turned them all down because she had _assumed_ Haymitch was going to ask her, but with time winding down she wondered for the millionth time if she was being foolish.

She didn't _imagine_ all the kisses they shared, or the way he looked at her, or the way he made her feel, those things were very real, but maybe she was crazy because they still fought every second they were in each other's presence, and _no one_ could quite get under skin like Haymitch Abernathy could. It was all so confusing.

Effie sighed, making her way back to her Common Room after another long night of studying. She was attempting to get her Potions' essay out of the way by tomorrow morning so she could spend the rest of the day in Hogsmeade picking up some last minute things for the dance.

The dance she would apparently be attending _alone_.

"Effie," said a familiar voice. Effie turned around and found herself face to face with Lucius. "What are you doing up so late?"

Effie sent Lucius a smile. "Finishing up that Potions essay. You?"

"Finishing up my Transfiguration essay." Effie nodded. She had finished that one up yesterday. "Listen, I've been meaning to ask you if you were going to the ball tomorrow?"

"Yes, I had planned on it," stated Effie, her heartbeat speeding up.

"Are you going with anyone?" Lucius' question was casual. _Too_ casual.

"I…" Effie gently bit her bottom lip. "No, no I am not."

"Really? Because I know a few guys asked and you turned them down, so it made me think you had a date."

Effie stopped walking and looked at Lucius. "No one worth saying yes to has asked me to go yet."

He smiled. "Then would you do me the honor of going to the ball with me? We're already to be crowned Queen and King."

Effie threw her head back and laughed. "I would love to be go the ball with you. And we do not know who will the King and Queen will be, everyone votes the night of."

Lucius chuckled quietly. "I suppose I will pick you up at six thirty for the dance?"

Effie flashed him a brilliant smile. "I'll be ready."

…

Haymitch made his way into the dining hall, spotted his friends, and walked up to Chaff, Johanna, and Finnick, all who were whispering conspiratorially. His eyes narrowed once he approached them and they all immediately became silent.

"I gotta go meet Annie," Finnick stated, avoiding Haymitch's eyes, and then he was gone.

"And I gotta get to class," said Jo, "but before I do, just remember I told you so." And then she was cackling out a laugh and disappearing as well.

Haymitch glared at Chaff. "Spill."

Chaff sighed. "You talked to Trinket this morning?"

"Effie?"

"Do we know another Trinket?" Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "Have you seen her yet?"

"No," frowned Haymitch. "Why?"

Chaff stared at Haymitch for a few seconds, and then: "Rumor has it she's going to the ball with Malfoy."

Haymitch stilled. " _What_?"

Chaff shrugged. "I _told_ you to ask her."

"Ask her? For _what_? She knows how I feel by now."

"Does she?" Chaff arched an eyebrow. " _You_ don't know how you feel, how the hell is _she_ supposed to know? Haymitch, nobody but me knows you two are… whatever you are. Even _I_ can't call it a relationship cause you'd freak out. You're afraid of commitment, you haven't let anyone in since Nova, you and Effie fight every day…. It wouldn't surprise me if she was confused."

"I have made it clear how I felt," argued Haymitch. " _Everyone_ knows how I feel, Effie and I are the biggest open secret at Hogwarts."

"If that were true, she'd be going to the dance with you."

Haymitch scowled, and without another word, he turned and walked out of the dining hall.

…

He found Effie rushing down the hall, looking slightly harassed.

"Oh, good morning, Haymitch," she said briskly, and she continued to walk passed him, her heels echoing against tile floors.

He grabbed her be the waist and pushed her against the wall. "Care to explain to me why the _hell_ you're going to the ball with Lucius Malfoy?"

Effie blinked at him. "Why do you care? _You_ didn't ask me."

"I shouldn't have had to. I thought it'd be obvious that we'd go together."

"Why would I think it was obvious? You are not the easiest guy to read, you know. I had _nothing_ to go on to know that you wanted to go with me, you never said anything to me, and besides, we never made each other any promises."

Haymitch's mouth dropped open and he backed away from her. "We never _made each other any promises_?" His grey eyes flashed dangerously and he stepped back to her, his lips finding hers and claiming them, almost violently. She didn't hesitate in kissing him back, and then she let out a moan that reminded him he was _very much_ a man, and Effie Trinket was very much a woman. " _That_ sounded like a promise to me, Princess."

Effie took a deep breath. "That is not fair. Kissing someone does not mean you are into them. _Yes_ we kiss, but you have not made it very clear that you want… I mean… _everybody_ knows you are afraid of commitment. I _want_ to go to the ball with you, but you did not ask me, so I just assumed that meant you did not plan on going with me."

"Well now you know that's wrong, so dump Lucius." Effie sighed and Haymitch stared at her. "Unless you _want_ to go with him."

"Of course I do not. Not really. I _want_ to go with you."

"Then get rid of him Effie, or so help me Merlin I'll end up getting expelled."

"What are we, Haymitch? It is not _fair_ to lead me on one minute and not claim me the next."

"Not _claim_ you?" snapped Haymitch. He pulled her to him, his face inches from hers. "What, would you like me to leave my mark on you? Trust me, nothing would make me happier, Princess. But whether or not that happens any time soon is neither here nor there. You are _mine_ , okay? I don't need the whole entire world to know it, as long as you know."

"And what exactly makes you think I belong to you?"

Haymitch _could_ have told her that it was because he smelled her when they made Amortentia, but he wasn't ready to admit that yet. Besides, he still wasn't sure he believed in shit like that, it was too much like having to have matching Patronuses with your soulmate. It all sounded like Merlin had predestined certain people to be together. Effie had never given him a reason to believe that she smelled him when she made her potion, and she had the right to decide who she wanted for herself.

He rested his hands on her hips. "Are you not?" Haymitch countered.

Effie sighed and leaned into him. "Of course I am."

Haymitch smirked. "Lucius is in the Great Hall."

…

The dress she wore was gold. Dandelion gold to be exact, and it looked _beautiful_ on her.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, and he realized that he was in way too deep, that if anyone ever gave him a reason to believe in soulmates it would be her. She literally took his breath away, and no one, _no one_ , had ever done that for him before.

They hadn't _arrived_ together, Haymitch had arrived with Finnick, Annie, Jo, and Chaff, mostly on time, where as Effie was late _for once_ , but on purpose, because she wanted to make a grand entrance, and now he knew why.

She was truly the belle of the ball.

And though they hadn't arrived together, it was obvious _something_ was going on, because when they danced together no one else existed, and the two of them were obviously into each other.

Haymitch couldn't keep his eyes of her, and it wasn't that hard. The dress was stunning on her, and in some ways it reminded Haymitch of a Golden Snitch.

And he, after all, was a Seeker.

King and Queen had gone to Finnick and Annie, Hogwarts' Couple of the Year. Haymitch could see that a part of Effie was slightly disappointed, so he pulled her to him, and anybody watching them be damned, and that same, familiar scent of lavender and vanilla hit him full in the gut.

"Whether you're Queen of Hogwarts or not, you'll always be Princess to me," he told her.

He ignored the swoop in his stomach at the smile she gave him.

She figured one day she'd tell him that he was her Prince.

* * *

A/N: Got a pretty good Christmas prompt, but still looking for a few more! I can't believe it's around the corner SMH. Thanks yall! Also, could use more prompts in general. School's almost out so I'll have time to write more :)


	297. Haymitch's Whore

**HAYMITCH'S WHORE**

 **Rated M**

She walked into the house, already calling Haymitch's name, expecting to find him in the living room, on the couch, pretending to watch television as he mentally counted down the hours, minutes, and seconds until she arrived.

He _said_ he did, but Effie very much doubted that Haymitch left the couch whenever she left Twelve to head to the Capitol. She imagined he stayed downstairs, maybe going upstairs to grab their blanket, but he wouldn't sleep in their bed without her. He would make a mess and then straighten up, putting the comforter back on the bed and unmake it, pretending like he'd slept in there, but he wouldn't have.

So to find the living room and kitchen empty nearly startled Effie.

She sat her surprise down on the table, her eyes sweeping the empty rooms. The kitchen was clean, she noted, and so was the living room. The television was on, and the throw they kept on the back of the couch was on the floor. There was a pillow from their bed on the couch.

But no Haymitch.

"Haymitch?" Effie called. She didn't hear anything, and the house felt empty. She made her way to the backyard, saw only the geese, and came back inside, frowning.

Haymitch was _always_ here, like clockwork, when she got home from the Capitol.

Even after ten years, it was too much to expect him to be at the train station waiting for her.

"Haymitch!" She could feel the panic creeping in. She made her way upstairs, already knowing the bedroom would be empty. The bathroom light was off as well, so he wasn't showering, even though she knew that because she would have _heard_ that.

 _The kids_.

It was her next thought, and then she was fleeing down the stairs and out the door and running towards their house. She barged in, unsure of who to call for: Haymitch? Katniss? Peeta?

"Hello?" called Effie, and almost immediately, though it felt like an _eternity_ , Katniss and Haymitch rounded the corner.

She felt immediately relief, and then _anger_. He was _never_ here when she got home, her first night back was always for them, the kids always complained that Haymitch and Effie undressed each other with their eyes, so they'd stopped the family dinners on Effie's first night back _years_ ago.

Effie felt herself sway, realizing almost immediately that she was overreacting, but the _fear_ … God the _fear_ had nearly paralyzed her. Haymitch was there in a flash, his arms around her.

"Easy Princess," he murmured. "What's wrong? You not feelin' good?"

"You are supposed to be at _home_ ," she snapped out.

Haymitch cringed as he looked at her. "Sorry. The boy's having an episode."

"Peeta?" And just like that the fear switched to concern. "Is he all right?"

She knew immediately he wasn't. Now that she knew Haymitch was alive she saw the strain on his face, and Katniss looked paler than ever.

"How long has he been out of it?"

"A few hours," shrugged Haymitch, and she could tell from his voice that it was bad.

"Let me try," Effie said, already walking towards the kitchen.

"No." Haymitch reached out and stopped her and she stared at him. "It's _bad_."

"I know how to help him." Haymitch stared at her for several moments, and then nodded, once, though he looked wary.

Effie walked into the kitchen, her heels clicking on the tile floors. She walked up to Peeta, who was in his chair, his skin ridiculously pale. When he spotted her his eyes widened.

"Ah. Haymitch's whore."

"Not real," Effie stated confidently, without so much as batting an eye, even as Haymitch jerked and Katniss gasped. She kneeled before him, her palm touching his cheek. "Peeta. Peeta, I am Effie. I was the Escort for you and Katniss."

Peeta snarled.

"You're _lying_."

"I am not. Ask me something. _Anything_." She kept her palm firmly on his cheek, her eyes locked with his. "I am an open book." Peeta remained quiet. "Do you not have any questions? That is fine, I can talk about you. Your favorite color is orange, and _not_ like my hair." She rolled her eyes and it make Haymitch smirk. "Your best friend in named Delly. Your first crush was Katniss Everdeen. Do you remember who your first girlfriend was?"

Peeta frowned.

"Just breathe deeply," cooed Effie. "Who was your first girlfriend?"

"Madge?" Peeta asked.

" _Madge_?" Effie shot Katniss a look, and the raven-haired girl scowled.

"Very good, Peeta. What is your favorite ice cream?" Peeta closed his eyes again. "Deep breaths, Peeta." He inhaled. "Who did you share your cell with?"

He scrunched up his face. "Annie."

"Very good. And how about me? Who did I share my cell with?"

"Johanna."

Effie nodded. "Very good. We know the measures Snow took to turn us against the ones we love the most. They called us names and filled our head with things that were _not real_. We do _not_ let Snow win. So I will ask you: who is the only woman you have ever loved?"

"Katniss Everdeen." There was no hesitation

Effie gave him a brilliant smile. "Welcome back."

Katniss was there next, untying him, and then she was embracing him. Effie stepped back and gave them their moment, though Peeta never took his eyes off of her.

"Did I call you Haymitch's whore?"

" _You_ did not. _They_ did." Peeta cringed. "I have been called worse, and you know I will not hold it against you. Now if you two will excuse me, it has been a long day, an even longer train ride, and I would like to get home." She laid a gentle hand on Peeta's arm. "I will call you a little later to check on you."

"Thank you, Effie," whispered Katniss.

"It is no problem."

It _was_ a problem, Haymitch doubted the kids noted, but he did. In a rare display of affection Haymitch grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"Haymitch's whore, huh?" Haymitch swallowed his anger, because he knew it wouldn't help her. She normally always slipped back to that dark place and he was going to try and prevent that from happening.

She turned and faced him, slipping her arms around him. "I do not mind being your whore."

He felt himself twitch as he listened to the husk in his voice.

Sometimes she slipped away, and sometimes she _needed_ him.

They barely made it to the house, he had her dress hiked up by the time they reached the front door. He fumbled with his pants while she fumbled with the door, and when it sprung open he practically fell on top of her as they stumbled into the house.

He wasn't sure the door was entirely closed before he was inside of her, pumping harshly, at her encouragement, and before long they were both spent.

He could hardly catch his breath before asking, "Do I smell _Ling's_?"

Effie chuckled. "Yes. They reopened recently, and I _had_ to bring you some. It was supposed to be a surprise…."

 _Ling's_ was a Chinese food chain that Effie had turned Haymitch onto during the 62nd Hunger Game, she had convinced him to try the shrimp fried rice and had thought it was the best food he'd ever had.

"They're back in business?"

"And doing better than ever. I thought we could enjoy it, watch a little television… then let the television watch us….. I pictured couch sex, and kitchen sex, and then bedroom sex…."

"Instead you got floor sex," snorted Haymitch.

"And it is not too late for the rest of it," Effie said suggestively.

Haymitch faced her, his eyes taking her in. "You're okay, yah? Between having to go back and visit your mother and coming home to Peeta's flashback…."

Effie reached out for him. "I am a little shaky. I could use a bath. I think I would feel much better if you joined me."

"I can definitely do that, Princess."

"Then I will check on Peeta, and we can eat dinner, and then you have your way with me for the rest of the night. You can show me what it means to be your whore. Lord _knows_ I have earned the right."

He kissed her shoulder. "I don't like it. I don't like the thought of them calling you that."

"It is an age-old argument, one I never believed for a moment. Johanna called me that enough over the years. It does not offend me. They were trying to hurt me, but I would not let them."

They _had_ hurt her, though. Physically, and mentally, and he didn't like her going back to that time if he could help it.

"C'mon, Princess," he said. "Let's get up. I'll run you a bath and…." He wiggled his eyebrows, making Effie giggle.

"I'll get the wine," purred Effie.

He smiled wickedly, thinking about getting her drunk and taking advantage of her.

Effie was _not_ his whore. She was his wife.

And he liked that better than any other name.

* * *

Eh. I'm meh about this one.


	298. Treasure Box

A/N: Sorry I haven't been posting, life got hectic. Yesterday was my birthday so I'm in CALI! Headed to Universal. It's my #Dirty30 yall! I can't believe it! This is my first post of the New Year and I'm so glad to have you all as my readers.

Let's start the New Year of with some new prompts.

 **TREASURE BOX**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch grabbed the last box, cursing softly at how heavy it was. He noted the fragile sign on it and grimaced as he put it down, his back already aching.

He was getting too old for this shit.

"This is the last of 'em, Princess," he told her, wiping his brow. Despite the fact that it was cold outside, it was hot as hell inside Effie's apartment, she _hated_ the cold, and Paylor had stopped the orchestrated weather and allowed the Capitol to experience real weather. Imagine their surprise to step off the train and experience a _real_ winter. It wasn't Twelve cold, but it was still cold. Effie had made her way into her apartment and Haymitch swore she'd turned it up to ninety, which would have been fine if they weren't currently going through every inch of her apartment.

She had finally decided that she was ready to sell the place.

"Thank you," said Effie absentmindedly, tucking a stray blonde strand behind her ear. "You can start going through it."

Haymitch nodded but she wasn't really looking at him. He bent down and opened the box, immediately staring at all the contents. The stuff inside of it looked _expensive_. He reached inside, staring at the numerous objects.

He grabbed a velvet box on top, opening it, and his breath caught in his throat as he realized it was a watch.

A _man's_ watch.

Haymitch frowned and looked at the other objects. There were _a lot_. The box was full of things, everything clearly for men.

Or _a man_.

There was cologne, a set of books, a tool box, expensive liquor, a chess set, and more things that Haymitch couldn't see.

"Effie… what _is_ this?" He tried to keep his voice level, because he didn't want to upset her. He had been worried about how she'd react being back in the Capitol after living in Twelve for the past year and a half, she was timid and jumpy and she was _quiet_. They had just gotten into a routine back home, she was finally starting to be herself again, not to mention they'd finally started sleeping together again, and he was pretty sure that he'd convinced her it would be _different_ with them this time, especially figuring she'd asked him if he was okay with her going back to the Capitol to clean out her apartment so she could _officially_ make Twelve home.

But if he was about to find out she had some sort of _fucking_ shrine to Crane, he was going to lose his shit.

"What?" asked Effie, still sounding distracted.

"Ef… why do you have a box full of men's things?"

She looked up at that, her eyebrows drawn together as she glanced up. She met his eyes, and then stared at the box. He watched her mouth open in shock, and then she blushed.

"Oh my goodness," she breathed, standing. "Oh my gosh. I am _so_ embarrassed. I forgot _all_ about this." She reached into the box, smiling softly as she grabbed the same velvet box he had grabbed.

He _hated_ the smile on her face.

Tenderness.

Softness.

"What _is_ it, Effie?"

"They are gifts."

"No _shit_. For _who_?"

Effie blushed again, closing the velvet box and placing it back into the box. "Don't be mad, Haymitch."

"Mad? Why would I be mad? You only have a shrine to _Seneca Crane_ ," he snarled.

Effie blinked at him, confusion clouding her countenance.

" _Seneca_? Haymitch, what are you talking about? This box full of gifts are not for _Seneca_."

The thought that there were more options, that there were more _men_ …. Haymitch scowled. Effie had always been too popular for her own good, men liked her and she liked men, but they'd been screwing each other's brains out for well over fifteen years…. Haymitch had been blindsided by Seneca, he hadn't known by lying to her about not loving her that she'd show up on his doorstep with a ring big enough to buy all of Twelve.

He'd been _furious_ , and he had assumed that Seneca had been the only one, but if this box hadn't been for Seneca—

"So who the hell did you get all these things for?" asked Haymitch.

"For you," she said quietly.

Haymitch just blinked at her.

"I used to buy you Christmas gifts," explained Effie. "Since the 60th Hunger Games. That was the year everything sort of changed for us, right? We had been sleeping together for a few years by then, but the 60th Hunger Games changed everything. I felt like we had understood each other for the first time. So when Christmas came, I bought you a gift. I wanted to send it, but I ended up not doing so. I vowed next year would be different, but I never did. As I started to fall for you…." Effie's voice trailed. "I mean I was not very good at hiding my feelings for you, and I was afraid that I would freak you out. So I would buy you gifts, but never sent them. I packed this box after the Quarter Quell announcement, absolutely devastated, and hating myself for never being brave enough to send you these things."

Haymitch stared at the box, his heart pounding. He grabbed another random object, another velvet box, though much smaller than the first, and opened it. He stared at pair of Mockingjay cufflinks.

If he had opened _this_ box first, he would have known.

"You got these for me?" The question was soft, and proof that he was shocked.

Not much shocked Haymitch anymore.

Effie nodded, blushing again.

She blushed _a lot_ around him, he noted

"So there are fifteen years of gifts in this box?"

"Fourteen," corrected Effie. "The gold bangle I used as your token was a gift I had bought you for the 67th Hunger Game."

Haymitch felt his heart beating like crazy as he stared at some more of the objects. His eye caught an old-fashioned globe in the box and he reached for it.

He was speechless. Absolutely speechless.

He fingered some of the things, trying to get his emotions under control.

"I'm not sure I have enough money to buy you fifteen years worth of gifts all at once," he told her, clearing his throat.

Effie laughed, the tension leaving her body. She leaned in and kissed him, and he pulled her closer, trying to put into the kiss how touched he was. He was _working_ on expressing himself. He found it wasn't all that difficult, though he was pretty positive he'd never be able to tell her he loved her, despite the fact that he felt that way.

"I do not want to get rid of these things—"

"Don't," Haymitch said. She arched an eyebrow. "This box will go with us back to Twelve. You can give one gift to me every Christmas for the next fourteen years."

Effie gave him a blindingly bright smile. "Deal."

It became a tradition for them, Effie giving him the gift she'd bought for him all those years ago, in the same order, and she'd explain why she had gotten that gift that particular year.

One year he made her a proper storage bin, custom so that it could fit each gift in a different compartment. Effie had cried for an hour when Haymitch had presented it to her, especially when she realized he had made it with his own hands.

The fact that it was made out of mahogany wood was not lost on her.

They referred to it as her treasure box, and as time passed and she gave him a gift, therefore emptying each compartment, she was able to fill it with gifts he got her in return.

No matter how many gifts he gifted her, though, there was no gift more valuable than his heart. And the gifts she placed in her treasure box were just physical ways to prove his love for her.


	299. First Crush

_Prompt –_ _ **"**_ _Your alive! Welcome back...prompt request: the first time Ava goes on a date!_ _'" –Happy5_

 _I didn't exactly do a date, but the prompt did spark something else. Sorry it's not exactly what you wanted. Still getting back into the groove of things. If you don't like it, let me know, I can try again._

 **FIRST CRUSH**

 **Rated K**

She walked into the house without a single word, her backpack dragging behind her. Both Effie and Haymitch stared at her in mild surprise – Ava was the _unpredictable_ one – their mouth's hanging open as they watched Ava climb the stairs, presumably to her bedroom, the sunlight from the door being left wide open hardly doing anything against the warm spring air.

"Ava?" Effie stated, watching her daughter carefully.

"Huh?" The girl gave her a mother a soft smile, nodding as if she were answering a question that was never even asked. "Sure. Sounds good."

Effie turned to Haymitch, who was blinking rapidly.

They knew this look. They'd gone through it before, with Willow. Haymitch had vowed to recognize the signs, and sure enough they were here.

"Who do you think it is?" asked Effie, finally closing the front door.

"I don't know, but I hate him," Haymitch declared.

Effie rolled her eyes. She was not surprised, not in the least, Haymitch always got like this. "Haymitch, Ava is growing up—"

"I don't care," interrupted Haymitch. "Boys mean trouble, and by trouble I mean heartache, and when there's heartache involved then I have to get involved."

Effie chuckled. He was so overprotective it was ridiculous.

"Mom?" called out Ava.

"Yes?" Effie responded, already heading upstairs.

"Can you come here for a moment please?"

Effie glanced back at Haymitch, giving him a knowing look. He just scowled at her and Effie refrained from laughing. She made her way to her daughter's room.

On the way to Ava's room Effie passed Ember's room. Ember, who was having dinner at friend's house, a female friend, because Ember hadn't gone boy crazy yet, which was a relief, really, figuring they had to deal with both Willow and Ava at the same time, as the two of them were only a few months apart.

Effie arrived at Ava's room, the shock of the redecorated room still taking some getting some used to. When Ava had mentioned at dinner a few months ago that she was no longer a child but a young lady and needed a room to showcase that, both Haymitch and Effie had stared at Ava as if she'd had three heads.

They'd gone through a similar thing with Ash, and Haymitch had fought it tooth and nail, the thought of his son growing up had sent him into a panic, and one would think that that would have better prepared them for Ava growing up, yet it hadn't; but there was no way that they could disagree that their little girl was becoming a young lady….

First a new room, and now—

"I met a boy," gushed Ava, beaming.

Effie smiled. "I see. Does this boy have a name?" Effie sat down at Ava's desk, amused at the way Ava was practically dancing.

"His name is Harl Tulsee and _Mom_ … he is _so_ dreamy! He asked me to prom."

Effie's eyebrows flew into her bangs. " _Prom_? Ava, you're only a freshman—"

"Mom, relax, he's a junior, not a senior."

Effie didn't find too much comfort in that. "Still, that's quite an age difference, Ava."

"It's two years," argued Ava, "and you and Dad are _three_ years apart."

"Your father and I met when we were both _very much_ adults. Where you are in life and where Harl is are two very different places."

Ava rolled her eyes – and Effie couldn't really scold the girl, it was a habit she'd picked up from her father – and glared at Effie, in a look that was so much like Effie that it would have made her proud if it weren't for the circumstances.

" _Don't_ be hypocritical, everyone knows that Ash and Willow are gonna get married, and _they're six_ years apart."

"Willow is not my daughter—"

"But she's Uncle Peeta's daughter, and he's okay with it."

"Well I am not Peeta, and besides, Ash and Willow have grown up together, the circumstances are quite different."

"So get to know Harl. Mom _please_ , he's the most popular boy in school and he's _nice_. He asked me to the movies this weekend—"

"Young lady, you know our rule: the first date is _always_ with the family."

"Mom, you _know_ how Dad gets, and Aunt Katniss is just like him—"

"This is not up for debate, Ava. _If_ you want to go to the movies this weekend, and _if_ you want to go to prom, you can bring him by some time during the week, and afterwards we can discuss if it's the right decision. You shouldn't even be thinking about boys, your head should be in the books—"

"You'd had like a dozen boyfriends by my age," Ava muttered, sighing.

"Do not interrupt me when I am speaking, Ava Abernathy."

Ava stopped talking and stared at her mother, and Effie recognized the look. It was the same look she used to give her mother when she thought it was hopeless.

Effie sighed softly. "Sit down, Ava." Ava did as she was told, staring at her mother expectantly. Effie had to be careful here. This was the age she had started to resent her mother, with all of Cleara Trinket's rules and guidelines and critiques. Effie vowed that she would be nothing like her mother, no matter what, and so far she had done a good job of that.

Effie walked over to the bed and sat next to her daughter. Her little girl was growing up, and into quite a beautiful young lady. Ava was tall and elegant, inheriting her mother's blonde hair and blue eyes. She could be a model, and maybe even might have been, if they hadn't visited Four years ago and she'd fallen in love with the sea. She stated she wanted to be a marine biologist, and hadn't changed her mind yet. Effie wasn't about to think about the fact she already had son who was into hovercrafts living in the Capitol, and pretty soon she'd have a daughter living in Four. She was _not_ about to think about Ember and what she wanted to do.

"I am sorry," Effie stated. "You are growing up, and it is not easy coming to grips with that." They had talked about the birds and the bees a couple of years ago, and then more in depth right before school started when Ava had started her period. Between that and her wanting to change her room, and now wanting to _date_ … it was _a lot_. "Your father and I raised you to be a good judge of character, but boys…." Effie sighed again. "I just want you to be careful, is all. Harl will be ready for things that you yourself are not ready for, no matter how much you might _think_ you are."

Ava blushed and looked down, resting her hands in her lap. "Don't worry Mom, I'm not there yet. I don't _wanna_ be there yet. I've never even come close to kissing a boy, or even holding hands. But I really do like Harl. And I want you and Dad to like him. So… I'll invite him over for dinner sometime before Saturday."

Effie nodded. "Good. And even then I'm not sure how your father is going to feel about Harl inviting you to prom…. The movies is one thing, but _prom_?"

"You'll talk to him, won't you?"

"Yes, I suppose I am going to have to. But I make _no_ promises, Ava."

"You'll like him, I promise," smiled Ava.

"Well we will see. Let me know as soon as you can about when he will be coming over for dinner."

"Thanks, Mom. You're the best."

Effie thought so too, and it would take her best to convince Haymitch to _behave_ when Harl came over for dinner.


	300. First Kiss

_Could you please do a prompt where Ash and Willow are both older and share their first kiss?_ _" –Moriah_

 **FIRST KISS**

 **Rated K**

Willow knocked on Haymitch's door and without waiting for an answer, barged in. She found just the person she was looking for, sitting on the couch, a bowl of cereal in his hands.

"You, get up, get dressed, we're going to the woods," she told Ash.

Ash looked at her, already dressed in her hunting gear, looking so much ridiculously like her mother with her dark hair braided that Ash was momentarily stunned. She had her mother's old bow on her arm – a Christmas gift at last year's Christmas feast that had Willow bursting into tears – and she wore a dark leather jacket, unzipped, a black shirt, and dark jeans that had Ash wondering what kind of robot Willow was to look _that_ good in _jeans_.

Ash stopped staring and looked down at himself. He still had on his pajamas, even though it was near noon, and he was trying to enjoy the peace and quiet. His parents had gone off to town on a _lunch date_ , reminding Ash how lonely he was, and he figured he'd spend the day watching television and raiding his parent's kitchen.

"I'm busy," Ash finally muttered, and Willow narrowed her eyes, giving him that _look_ that proved she was about to get her way, if she had to curse, pout, throw a tantrum, or scream.

"You've been avoiding me like the plague, ever since prom night, Ash." He could feel his face heating up, so he took a spoonful of his cereal and started chewing. "Ash, please? We haven't been hunting together in _forever_." There was a plea in her voice that him sighing.

"All right," stated Ash. "Just let me finish my cereal in peace, yah?"

Willow rolled her eyes as she made her exit. "Ten minutes, Abernathy, or I'm dragging you out of here by your 'locs."

She was good for the threat, too, and he knew it, so he finished his bowl of cereal and made his way upstairs to throw on something appropriate to wear into the woods, trying to ignore the way his stomach was doing summersaults.

He left his parents a note – even though he was an adult and could do as he pleased, his parents were _paranoid_ and would panic if he wasn't where they thought he should be, when they thought he should be there.

Willow was on the porch, sitting on the steps, but stood up when he heard him.

"Bout time," she muttered, and he sent her a look that her smirking.

The walk to the woods was silent, mostly comfortable, but not completely. He _knew_ her, he knew she had something to say to him, and he was worried, but he was a man and he'd face it head on.

They walked the same trail Willow's mother used to walk. Katniss Everdeen. _The_ Katniss Everdeen. He knew his father had walked the trail with her a few times, but mostly this was Katniss' domain. These were her woods, and they'd welcomed her daughter with open arms – and her son, though he made the choice not to hunt.

It'd been years since Ash and Willow had been this deep into the woods together. They'd grown up in these woods, gotten lost in these woods, scared each other in these woods, hunted together in these woods. The woods felt like _home_ , and every time he came to visit they came out here at least once, for old time's sake, because this is where they felt the most free, but they hadn't been this deep in the woods in a long while. Even as Ash grew up and left Twelve, the woods would always be home. And even as Willow put up her hunting shoes for heels, this place had never lost its pull for them.

Many secrets were shared here.

Tears, too, though not too often.

Growing pains.

And then just… growth.

They said Willow had had a better shot than even her mother, which Ash found debatable. They had learned to hunt from Katniss, she had taught them everything she knew, but where Katniss had hunted for necessity Willow and Ash hunted for fun, and that, Ash thought, made all the difference.

When they reached their usual stomping ground Willow handed Ash her bow, their fingers brushing briefly. He felt his heart pounding and wondered briefly if she could hear it. He ignored it as best as he could, and then proceeded to hunt the birds in the air, letting the arrows fly until he felt himself finally start to _truly_ relax.

Willow didn't say anything when he was finished, she just started picking up the game and putting it in her bag. He wiped the sweat off his brow, his blue eyes taking in everything about her.

When she had gathered all the game she motioned for him to follow her, which he did, and they made their way to the lake, like he knew they would. Willow walked ahead of him, her strides confident and purposeful, and she reached the lake first, setting the pace by dropping the bag full of game, bending down, and unbuckling her shoes.

She stuck her feet in the water, sighing with contentment, and Ash just watched.

"Aren't you gonna join in?" asked Willow, not looking at him.

He hesitated, briefly, and then took off his own shoes and socks and sat next to her, staring at the crystal clear lake.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong?" Willow finally asked, quietly, after several moments of silence.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong."

Willow looked at him then, her blue eyes analyzing him. He wanted to look away, but kept his eyes locked with hers, even though he felt his chest constricting.

Finally – _finally_ – she looked away. "Wow. You never struck me as a liar before." He could hear the hurt in her voice, but even more than that, he could hear the accusation in her voice. He felt his defenses going up but pushed them away. He was his father's child, had _always_ been his father's child, and he had to work a little harder than most people to not always get so defensive.

"What's the matter, Squirt?" asked Ash, using her old nickname, hoping that would lighten the mood.

" _Don't_ call me that," Willow snapped. "I am _not_ a little girl anymore."

Ash sighed. "And _that_ is the problem," admitted Ash. Now she whipped her face towards him, her eyes searching his. "You grew up, Willow. I guess I'm just trying to come to grips with that."

"By ignoring me and brushing me off?"

"I haven't been—"

"Ash Abernathy do _not_ lie to me. You've been home for two weeks and you've been ducking and dodging me. You've been an adult a lot longer than I have yet you're acting like a child. Why? _Why_?"

"Because I'm attracted to the girl who was like a kid sister to me _two bloody weeks ago_." The admission was out of his mouth before he could stop it, because sometimes when he was angry he didn't _think_.

He felt his face grow warm and felt even more embarrassed about that. He was an _Abernathy_ , he didn't _blush_.

Willow chewed on her lip for a few moments, and then looked out at the lake. The silence was thick and heavy, and Ash didn't like it, he didn't like it _at all_.

"What's wrong with finding me attractive? Am I supposed to be ugly?" She didn't look at him when she asked that.

Ash blinked at her, unsure of what to say to that. He wasn't really good with words, but he knew he had to say something. "You were always supposed to be just Willow." That's how he used to describe her. When she'd call his phone while he was in the Capitol, and he was with a girlfriend, and said girlfriend would ask who that was, it was always 'That's just Willow.' When she came to visit him in the Capitol and some of the boys he mentored would ask about her, it was, 'Oh that's just Willow.' "You're not just Willow anymore, I guess, and prom showed me that more than anything. You're turning into an adult, and I don't really know how to handle that. I'm not saying you were never attractive. I'm saying I never noticed."

"Well you weren't supposed to. You're six years older than me. Even now, it seems like a lot. But I've had a crush on you since I was sixteen, so." Willow shrugged casually, even as Ash's head whipped towards her. Willow gave him a soft smile. "I am my mother in looks, but much more so my father in spirit."

"Six years, though…." Ash's voice trailed. "Not to mention, you're off to the Capitol in a couple of months, and I'll be here."

Willow rolled her eyes. "For a _year_ , Ash. Then you're right back in the Capitol."

"Long distance is _hard_." He knew. He'd dated a girl from Seven that he'd met in college, and they hadn't lasted six months after they graduated.

"Well if you just wanna make excuses, that's fine. But you never really struck me as a coward."

"I'm not a coward," Ash said, a little more harshly than he meant to. He cringed when he realized she'd been joking.

"You're an Abernathy _and_ a Trinket, which means you're a control freak. But you don't have to plan _everything_ , Ash. You can take a risk. It's _me_. I'm still Willow, and you're still Ash. Besides, I'm an Everdeen and a Mellark. Do you _really_ think you'll be able to resist my charm?"

He looked her over, debating with himself.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Ash. Either you'll come to terms with that or you won't. But I'm not gonna wait on you to figure it out. I brought you out because I _miss_ you. A small part of me wants things to go back to the way they were, but I know that's not gonna happen. I'm okay with that. You have to decide if you are."

Willow stood up, grabbing her socks and boots. Ash watched as she put them on, knowing he should say something, knowing that if he let her walk away he was sure to blow it forever, but his heart was stuck in his throat.

When her shoes were tied she grabbed her bow and the game bag, swinging it over her shoulder. She bent down so that she was eye level with him, and before he knew it, her hand had cupped the back of his neck, forcing his head forward.

Her lips met his and Ash felt something inside of him explode, something he hadn't even known was on fire. The kiss was soft, yet firm, hot, yet cool to the touch. Her lips were gentle, and tasted like the strawberry lip-gloss she favored. It was both shy and confident, the hunter and the hunted, full of a million contradictions.

In essence, it was utterly Willow, and everything he had ever thought about her.

When she pulled away he felt the loss of contact like a physical blow.

"Just something to show you what coulda been," she said softly, her blue eyes boring into his dark blue ones, her thumb gently caressing his cheek.

And then she was walking away.

He blinked for several moments, trying to get his bearings, trying to remember how to _breathe_ , and she was damn near out of sight before he finally got up, grabbed his stuff, and ran up to catch her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him, and his lips were on hers before she could say another word.

The last thing he remembered was her bow and game bag, and his shoes, hitting the ground.


	301. Effie's Secret

**EFFIE'S SECRET**

 **Rated T**

Haymitch had known it was going to get ugly for quite a few months now. Effie was over-the-moon excited when Katniss told them that her and Peeta were expecting, she's in tears and it's only a few days until she turns into a mother hen.

Haymitch is surprised it took this long, Katniss is due in a little less than a month, and now they're all panicking because there will be a little one soon, and really, Haymitch is kind of on Katniss' side this time, Effie has been _ridiculous_ , the closer the due date the more smothering she is.

Katniss is lying down, complaining about her back aching, and Effie's had Katniss try everything under the sun, every remedy that Effie _might_ have heard of to cure backaches she had Katniss try.

"I still think my heating pad will help," Effie suggested.

"It's too hot for that," snapped Katniss.

"But Dear, it will certainly help with your back, trust me it will feel good. Just let me—"

"Effie will you _stop_?" Katniss yelled. "I'm sick to _death_ of all your stupid Capitol remedies. None of them work. You don't know how to help me, you've never been pregnant."

Haymitch watched Effie's face, and he felt this dread in the pit of his stomach. The silence was loud, still but magnetic, like the eye of a storm right before the hurricane hit.

"Yes I _have_ ," stated Effie, and her voice is _broken_ , shattered glass, and then she's snatching Haymitch's mostly full bottle of alcohol off of the table and stalking away.

Nobody moved until the door slammed, and Katniss cringed.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she whispered. She looked lost for a moment, and then her grey eyes found Haymitch. "I didn't know."

Neither did he.

" _Stop_." Peeta was halfway out the door but he paused at Haymitch's command. Haymitch and Katniss stared at each other for a few more seconds before Haymitch turns around. He jerked his head and Peeta moved aside.

Haymitch's first thought was that she was halfway on her way back to the Capitol. Effie wasn't much of a runner anymore, things had fallen into a routine over the past several years, but back when she had first gotten to Twelve when things got rough Effie tended to flee.

He found her on their porch, sitting in her rocking hair. The tears have already fallen and for the longest time he had no clue what to say, so he just stood there, watching her drink from the bottle she _never_ drank from.

"Was it mine?"

It was the wrong thing to say.

She let out a gasp that quickly turned into a sob. He cringed, not understanding the unfamiliar pain that worked its way through his body.

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?" He looked at her, took in the pain on her face and realized she'd been dealing with this by herself for a long time.

"What would you have said?" she asked, not looking at him. She took another drink, staring into the distance. "I already knew you didn't want kids. _I_ didn't want kids. We both knew what happened to Victor's kids, and sending my own kids into the Arena…." She laughed, but it was God- _awful_ , humorless and cruel. _Broken_. "Well it would certainly be ironic, would it not?" She took another drink.

He took another deep breath. "When?"

She took another sip, this one even longer than the last one. "The first time?" He jerked again, and had to swallow down the bile in his throat. "The 68th Hunger Game." Haymitch's eyes fluttered closed. She'd gotten with Seneca during the 65th Hunger Game, long before she'd gotten pregnant. "I did not know I was pregnant until I woke up in a pool of blood. I was at least two months pregnant and had no clue. I told no one, if anyone found out…." She closed her eyes, another tear leaving a sad trail down her cheek.

"You were distant the next year," remembered Haymitch.

"I was _terrified_ of it happening again, and at the same time I was _devastated_. You should not go through something like that alone, and I had _no one_. If _anyone_ suspected, for a _second_ , that I was pregnant with your child…."

"You coulda had me," Haymitch said.

She glared at him, briefly, her eyes flashing, before she turned away from him. "Do not imagine yourself my knight in shining armor." Her voice was cold. "The _second_ I'd have told you, you would have freaked. That is one thing I do not question. You would not have been very understanding. Hearing you tell me to heartlessly get rid of our child…." She shook her head. "I'd rather have died in that cell than hear those words come out of your mouth."

He felt like she'd just stabbed him, or shot him. He snatched his bottle from her and drank. He was cutting back. He was not about to let Katniss' child – the one they had made him Godfather for, and Effie Godmother – see him as a drunk, so he'd been cutting back since Katniss had told them she was pregnant.

But right now he needed it.

"And the second time?" He wasn't sure why he had to know.

Effie took a long, slow breath, and took several moments to answer. He thought he already knew, but he waited her out.

"The 74th Hunger Game."

Haymitch drank.

"I knew earlier than the first time. I was older, my body was older, and I knew. I _knew_." She choked out another sob, but she held it in. He wondered how long she'd been doing that. "Portia helped me this time. She knew a doctor. She and Cinna…." Her voice trailed, and she looked pained. "It was the worst possible time to have gotten pregnant. We knew what was coming. But it _hurt_. God, it hurt.

"We had to wait _weeks_. The Rebel doctor… he had other appointments, other people to see, so I had to schedule my appointment later than I wanted. All the while that child was growing inside of me, and I _tried_ to remain detached, but… I had never been very good at separating myself from you. By the time my appointment came around, I…." Effie shrugged. "I knew I _had_ to. There was no questioning that. I could _not_ keep it, not even to go the adoption route, with the Victory Tour coming up you would have _known_ , and…." She sighed again. "Honestly it does not matter. But I _do_ know what it is like to not know your own body, to have an aching back, to have swollen feet…."

Haymitch took another drink. "You could have told me," he said flatly. "You _should_ have told me."

"You were not the man then that you are now, Haymitch. It would have destroyed us. I would have resented it, resented you. I already resented myself."

"I would have been there for you. I'd have been angry, yah, but I wouldn't have…." He _hoped_ …. "You'd have never gone alone, I am not… I'm not _heartless_ , Effie. I get why you didn't tell me then, but _after_? Hell there's been five, ten, fifteen years since the War, and _nothing_? You never said anything?"

"I would have taken that secret to my grave had Katniss not said anything. You would never have understood, and it was best… it was hard enough to remember as it was. Even now, talking about it…." More tears fell and she wrung her hands together. "It was best to forget. I wanted to forget. Thinking about it… it _destroys_ me."

"Maybe because you never told me."

"Do you talk to me about Nova?" snapped Effie. "About your mother? About your brother?" Haymitch inhaled sharply. "You share that pain alone. And I get it. I _get it_. My mother could die today and I still would not know how you felt. Yes, you have known loss, Haymitch. As have I. But it is not the same. That child… _our_ child… _both_ of them… they were _mine_. And I grieve for them. But I do not talk about them."

Haymitch didn't say anything for a long time. And then—

"Effie?"

Effie didn't turn towards the door. "Not now, Katniss."

Effie could practically _feel_ Katniss trying not to argue. She also told herself to thank Peeta for convincing his wife to go home. Effie could feel Katniss' stare until she heard their door slam.

"You can go now, Haymitch," Effie dismissed. Her voice was no longer cold, just… detached, which somehow was worse.

Haymitch sat down in his rocking chair and reached out for her. He kept his grip even as she tried to pull away. "I'm not going anywhere, Princess." He was firm in that, and he had that voice, that voice that said he couldn't be argued with, so Effie stopped struggling. "I'll be right here, like I woulda been all those years ago if you'd given me the chance."

Effie looked at him, _really_ looked at him.

"It's not your burden anymore. It's not your secret anymore, either. You don't gotta carry it alone." He tried to pull her to him, but she remained seated.

They sat in silence, holding hands, for what felt like an eternity.

"I suppose I should go and makeup with Katniss," Effie finally said.

"Not now," responded Haymitch. "You don't have to, not right now. Give it 'til tomorrow, or the next day."

They fell back into silence.

"I am glad you are here," Effie said after awhile. "I needed this. I needed… _you_."

"We need each other, Princess." This time when he pulled her to him, she came. She sat on his lap, and he breathed her in, his face buried in her chest. Effie ran her fingers through his hair, and Haymitch felt his heart start to loosen.

They would heal.

If they were good at anything, it was healing.

They did it best together.

"No more secrets?" he asked her.

She lifted his head so that she could look at him. "No more secrets," assured Effie.

* * *

My last post was my 300th! How fitting since my 30th just passed! Thanks yall for the love and support. Are yall still liking the one-shots? Anything yall wanna see? Feel free to leave me some prompts!


	302. Shopping is Still a Habit

_This is in response to "Shopping is a Habit" (Chap 247). This one is 5x Effie shopped for Haymitch, and the 1x Haymitch shopped for Effie._

 _Thanks to the ideas that were prompted for this, I greatly appreciate you guys' input._

 **SHOPPING IS STILL A HABIT**

 **Rated T**

Effie stepped into the quaint little shop, the different scents hitting her nostrils almost immediately. A soft wind chime announced her presence, and she cringed. She wasn't trying to bring attention to herself, she was better at trying to blend in now, she absolutely _hated_ to be the center of attention, long gone were the days of her sky high heels and ridiculous dresses in order to be the talk of the town.

She was invisible now, and she _liked_ it that way.

Still, for the most part, the shop was empty, and she was happy about that. The few people that were there – the young couple in the corner, laughing and flirting, and the man sitting at table with his laptop and his phone to his ear – did not seem to pay her any mind, and for that she was grateful.

She made her way to the counter without incident and breathed a sigh of relief.

Time had taught her that if she was recognized immediately, it would be a bad day. Sometimes she could get in and out without anyone recognizing her for the traitor she was.

The traitor _they_ thought she was.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The woman at the counter was young, a bright smile on her face, evidence that she was young enough to not have let the war affect her. Effie had realized that this younger generation had a way of picking up the pieces and moving on.

Effie wished she could be so lucky.

"Afternoon," replied Effie. "I would like an organic green tea with mango, please."

"Coming right up." Effie handed the young girl her credit card, hoping that it wouldn't decline. She vaguely remembered Plutarch telling her something about him working on getting her funds together, but the card must have had enough money on it, because the clerk handed her card back with a smile, and she disappeared to start making Effie's drink.

She was looking around the shop when her eye caught something that had her looking twice. She felt a memory itching into her brain, a suppressed memory that she normally would have let come and go as to not think about it, not think about _him_ , but the memory came, full force, and for once, Effie didn't stop it.

Haymitch, talking her to one night, about his love for history.

He had told her once that if he had never been Reaped, if he had had any say in his life whatsoever, he would have been a teacher, and he would have taught history.

They did not allow themselves a lot of what ifs over the years, but she had answered his question of what she would be if she were not an Escort with a simple answer: a fashion designer.

It had been a _wonderful_ night, and she had known, even then, that it was all coming to and soon.

Effie reached out and grabbed the books, noting there was about a dozen or so, all of them dusty and ridiculously old, she had no doubt that they were the originals, and the moment she had them in her grasp she knew she wanted them.

She was not ready to admit buying these books would mean she would go to Twelve, she had made it her mission in life to not think about that yet, even though she knew deep down she would end up there.

One day.

She approached the counter and asked about purchasing the books. The girl looked at Effie like she had three heads, and advised Effie that she would have to talk to her manager.

An older woman exited from the back, looking just as confused as the younger one. It was obvious the two of them were related.

At first Effie was told that they were not for sale, that they were only for decoration, but Effie stated, with confidence she hadn't felt in _months_ , that she would pay them six hundred dollars, cash, for them. That kind of cash could not be passed up at a time like this, when people were still recovering from the War after two years.

It was easy, really, after negotiating with Sponsors for all those years this had been cake.

She made her way back to the house, going into her safe, where she kept her cash, and counted out six hundred dollars. She realized she had enough money left in cash to a buy a single ticket to Twelve – how many times had she pretended it'd be easy enough to board a train and visit Haymitch during the Off Season?

Without thinking too hard about it – she would not think about Twelve right now – she made her way back to the tea shop.

She wasn't sure how long it would be before she made her way to Haymitch, but she thought the books would be a nice peace offering when she showed up.

…

Effie hummed as she browsed the aisle, continuing to fill up her basket. She grabbed a few items, knowing that Haymitch wouldn't be happy with everything that she had selected, but the agreement was that he would do the cooking and she would do the shopping.

She had _not_ swallowed her pride and moved to Twelve without a single phone call only for Haymitch to die from his horrid eating habits. The War had been good for the Districts, they had more options for food now, and figuring Haymitch had never shopped for food a day in his life, Effie had jumped at the suggestion that she be in charge of groceries.

She had been nervous at first, this was the first time since she had moved back that she was doing the shopping for the house – _their_ house, he had called it the other day – but grocery shopping had always been one of her favorite past times, and she found falling back into the rhythm of it was quite easy.

Effie didn't get to grocery shop that often in the Capitol, not once she became famous. There were a few years she could grab a couple of things, and get out, but it had been _years_ since she had been able to walk down the aisles without being stopped or stared at.

In Twelve people didn't bother her. Haymitch had made it quite clear once it was obvious that she was staying and not visiting that if anyone touched her they'd be dead, and no one doubted him, least of all Effie. But for the most part the Town knew Katniss had demanded she have immunity and that she was on the Rebel's side, so she was left alone.

Sometimes people even waived to her.

But right now, she was just a woman who was shopping for her home, like countless other women were currently doing, and a few men too.

Effie didn't have a list to consult for once, she was still trying to get a feel for Haymitch's likes and dislikes. For the most part she was going off what she _hadn't_ seen: milk, water, eggs. Basic necessities. Once she realized his tastes she'd start writing her lists, but for now, she was just winging in.

She should hurry, she realized, Haymitch had given her an hour and a half. She had complained that that wasn't enough time for grocery shopping but it was going to start getting dark soon and he wanted her back home before then. He had allowed her an extra thirty minutes, if she were even a second late there was no telling what Haymitch would do, or worse, what he would think.

A part of her thought he was afraid she'd leave and never come back.

Effie looked over her shopping cart, realizing she'd gotten more than enough to last a couple of weeks. She went and paid, only slightly nervous that Haymitch would hate everything.

Even if he did, it didn't matter. This was the first of many shopping trips, and she had the rest of her life to get it right.

…

Effie looked around, taking in everything, her bright blue eyes sweeping the crowded shop.

The familiar voice had her smiling. "Shouldn't you be watching the Games?"

Effie turned around. "If I could be, I would be," she told Cinna. "As it is, I just so happen to have a fashion emergency."

Cinna arched a perfect eyebrow, looking her over. "You're in one of my best designs. You look perfect."

Effie beamed. "Thank you, but I am not here for me. I need a new shirt for Haymitch. His is ruined."

"Oh?"

The fact that she had ripped the shirt off of him, the buttons flying everywhere, was not something she planned on sharing with the Capitol's latest fashion designer, though he knew her well enough to have a guess or two.

"You know how Haymitch is," lied Effie easily. "You would think someone who drinks so much would not be so clumsy, but." She shrugged, much too casually. "We have a meeting with a Sponsor scheduled and he needs another grey shirt to go with his navy blue suit that you laid out for him this morning."

Cinna smiled knowingly at her. "Very well." He motioned for her to follow him, and she did, her heels clicking on the dark marble floor. "How are things going at the Penthouse?"

"Things are rather tense at the moment," Effie stated. "I am furious with Haymitch for not helping Peeta. I have no doubt that if he survives, he will lose that leg." She left out the part where Haymitch, tired of her bickering, had pinned her against the wall in frustration, and then she was ripping at his clothes.

His shirt had gotten in the way of her lust, and here she was.

Cinna grabbed the stack of dark grey long-sleeved shirts, trying to remember Haymitch's size. "There can only be one winner, Effie, and we all know that between the two, it's Katniss."

"I know that." Effie's voice was cool as she gently grabbed the stack from Cinna, searching for Haymitch's size herself. She'd been shopping for him for _years_ by now, and it didn't take her long to find the size she needed. She handed the remaining shirts back to Cinna, who just smirked at her, his eyebrow raised again.

She didn't take the bait.

Cinna refused to let her pay for the shirt, even though he was just starting out, so he made her promise to pay him back by having a drink with him later on when he was off and made his way to the Penthouse.

"It is a deal. Give Portia my love."

"And give Haymitch mine," replied Cinna smoothly.

Effie didn't respond.

…

Effie frowned in concentration, staring the options before her. How could there be _so many_ options? Honestly, it was utterly ridiculous, she mused, staring at all the possibilities.

She could feel herself getting overwhelmed – it didn't happen as much anymore, but sometimes too many choices left her panicked. She had been told what to do, when to do it, and where to do it for _months_ in that cell, and sometimes Effie found it hard to make her own decisions.

She was working on that.

This shouldn't be that hard.

They were _just_ razors.

Haymitch needed a new one because the one he had was old and dull and she'd been fussing about him shaving and to shut her up he had stomped upstairs to shave, only a loud curse had her flying up the stairs and barging into their bathroom. He'd cut himself, not too badly, but enough for there to have been blood, and then she was a blubbering mess and she had nearly fainted and Haymitch was there in a flash, and she felt _horrible_ – one, for nagging him about shaving; two, for being so _weak_ at the sight of blood; and three, for the guilt she knew Haymitch felt as if this were all his fault.

That fiasco had been a few days ago, and now she was at the local market, attempting to buy him a new razor, only it was _clearly_ starting to be too much.

It _shouldn't_ be that difficult, she was _making_ it difficult, because she was trying to surprise him, she had waited _years_ to be able to openly shop for Haymitch, and now that the opportunity had presented itself to her, she found herself terrified that he would _hate_ what she brought back.

Things were changing between them, still somewhat awkward, though they'd shared each other's bed a few times at this point, but they both still had bad days, and then they had _terrible_ days, they were finding comfort in each other but they hadn't had a serious discussion about them yet.

It would happen soon, she knew, because his looks were getting longer, the caresses were becoming touches, the sex was becoming gentle, and she could count on two fingers the amount of time that had happened _before_.

Effie took a deep breath, refusing to run out of the store without a razor. Forcing herself to calm down, she looked through her options, reading up on what different things they could do, until she found the one that was perfect for Haymitch.

He snorted when he unwrapped it, rolled his eyes dramatically, but twenty minutes later when he came back downstairs he looked like a whole new man.

It had _definitely_ been worth it.

…

Effie looked through the glass windows, determined to find _it_. Whatever it ended up being, it had to be perfect. She had been looking for _hours_ but she didn't really care, when she had a goal in mind she kept to it.

Finding a token for Peeta had been ridiculously easy, but Haymitch?

Their relationship was complicated enough, and all the confusion on where they stood with each other had become ridiculously obvious, there were _feelings_ there, sure, and with everything that had happened between the last Games and the Victory Tour and the Quell, neither of them had done a very good job of acting indifferent to each other.

Those games were over.

She was surprised he hadn't fled yet, she had a sneaky suspicion the only reason he had not left was because he would be leaving again soon, most likely without her, and he thought he owed it to her to give her _something_ to remember him by.

She was also convinced that whatever he had planned, he wasn't sure that he'd survive it.

It was a thought she hated to think about, but she couldn't help it when he snuck into her room _every night_ now, and held her tighter than usual, moved in and out of her a little more softly, and had been ridiculously even more protective than usual. He had to know where she was, at all times, she was not allowed to go anywhere alone, she either had to be with Cinna or Portia, or near Finnick and Chaff.

It had not been easy to sneak away, and she thought she had had them fooled until she saw Johanna walking a few feet behind her. Victor Seven hadn't gone into the jewelry store with her, but she was waiting outside.

Effie didn't know what to think, knowing that Haymitch had convinced Johanna of all people to look after Effie.

Or what it meant that Johanna had _listened_.

Effie shook her head, continuing to look around. Shopping for Haymitch was normally easy, he would complain about what she had chosen no matter what, but this… this was _different_. She had to get him something that proved to him that they were a _team_ , that she was on their side.

 _His_ side.

She had just about given up that she would find anything, most of the jewelry options were too flashy, and Haymitch couldn't and wouldn't do flashy, and she wouldn't ask him to. She was halfway out the door when she spotted it.

It was gold, and as plain looking as anything she'd ever seen, but she knew, she _knew_ it was perfect. She caught the clerk's attention, motioning that she wanted to see the gold bangle with flames. It was in her hands for only a moment and it felt _right_.

The Capitol man who owned the shop told her that the bangle was old, and lackluster in comparison to some of the other options.

"No Capitol man would want this from his girl," he told her.

"I do not much care if a Capitol man likes it or dislikes it. I want it." It wasn't _for_ a Capitol man, Effie thought.

The man nodded, cleaned the bracelet for her, and then packed it up in a small velvet box.

Even Johanna couldn't wipe the smile off of Effie's face.

…

Haymitch glanced around, trying not to scowl at all the different options there were. He had to remember the _point_ of him being here. There was a goal he had in mind and he had to remember it if he was going to surprise Effie.

He didn't like being away from her while she was in the Capitol, he didn't like being away from her at all, but _especially_ while they were back here, and particularly because she was visiting her parents.

Treadmont and Cleara Trinket were a force to be reckoned with, and Haymitch knew that she would return to him either annoyed, pissed off, or sad.

None of those emotions would suit him, he hated them all on her, Effie was lively and he'd worked too hard to get her back to that woman after she showed up on his doorstep unannounced.

That had been ten years ago, they had had to get to know one another again, they'd walked on eggshells around each other, then they'd gotten mad at each other, and then one day they were kissing each other and all felt _right_ with the world again, and Haymitch had long ago given up on _right_.

They'd healed each other, at least as best as they could, they had grown back together, and things had finally gotten comfortable – he had gotten his drinking under control for the most part, yah, there were bad days, but he was _better_ now – and she didn't have as many nightmares or days she stayed inside her own head for _hours_.

But a little more than a year ago someone from the Capitol had come looking for her in Twelve, and after scaring the _shit_ out of them – because even though times had changed and people could travel and live in other Districts now, they still didn't get a lot of Capitol people in Twelve – the private investigator had confessed that Treadmont Trinket had been searching for Effie because her mother had fallen ill.

Haymitch would have supported Effie in any decision she made, so long as her going to the Capitol didn't mean that she was never coming back. She had assured him that Twelve was home now, would always be home, and nothing would ever change that, so he let her go back to the Capitol to visit with her sick mother, and before she was even on the train he had placed a call to Plutarch and Paylor to make sure she stayed safe.

He still didn't trust the Capitol, and he never would.

Effie had returned two days later unharmed physically, but muted and practically destroyed all over again, and the only thing that had stopped Haymitch from going to the Capitol and _killing_ her parents was because she told him that was the only thing he could do to ensure she would never forgive him.

In due time Haymitch had found out that Effie's mother was still very much the _bitch_ he had always known her to be, but that was her mother, and every month, the last weekend of the month, Effie would go and visit her. Cleara Trinket only had a year to live, supposedly, but here it was a year and a half later and she hadn't keeled over yet.

The _only_ reason Haymitch wasn't pissed is because he thought Effie losing her mother would really hurt her.

Even after all this time, her heart was too big.

Haymitch had started coming along once Plutarch and Paylor had both agreed the security detail was unnecessary, nobody bothered Effie, and when they did, it was because they wanted an autograph. History had been kind to Effie, as time passed she was seen as somewhat of a hero to society, at least that was how the history books were spinning it. Poor little Escort, secretly a Rebel at heart.

It was true in Haymitch's opinion, still, the hatred that had been thrown at her immediately after the war was not something that would be easily forgotten by _everyone_ , so Haymitch started going with her.

Effie never let him go home with her, though – and it _was_ home, because there was no way Cleara Trinket would die in a hospital. Haymitch was almost offended at not being allowed but Effie said it would upset her mother too much.

So he had walked the Capitol, found a perfume store, and made his way inside without really meaning to. Sure, her favorite perfume was not only out but discontinued, but that didn't mean he _had_ to get her a new bottle, she was picky anyway and would probably hate the scent he got her.

Still, he couldn't help but start grabbing a few bottles and sniffing them, wondering what they'd smell like on her.

One thing he knew about Effie is that she liked soft, sweet, and citrusy. She always had a thing for pretty and colorful bottles, so he found himself drawn to perfumes with bright colors and sweet scents. He narrowed down one that he thought was close to the scent that had been discontinued, and when he realized it was made by the same person, he couldn't help but smile.

He hoped she liked it. He wasn't in the habit of buying her things all the time, she knew what she was getting – and what she _wasn't_ getting – by loving him, but he knew she would need it once she left her parent's house.

She always needed _something_.

He _hated_ that she left them almost as insecure as she had been when she had showed up on his doorstep.

He thought a new bottle of perfume would be a nice surprise for her.

She deserved it.


	303. Promises

_Prompt—"_ _I dunno if you've ever watched Sherlock, but there's this one scene of where John goes into a drug den to fish a neighbor out, and finds Sherlock there as well and they have this shouting match (it was quite funny). Anyway, why not do something like this for Hayffie? She ends up bailing some friend out of jail, and finds Haymitch there and she goes ballistic at him because she thought he was giving up alcohol._ _" –Missy Tea_

 **PROMISES**

 **Rated T+**

Haymitch walked next to Effie, stealing glances at her every few seconds. She was pretending he did not exist, and he would think that she was totally unbothered except for the fact that her face was in a deep frown. He had trouble keeping up with her, even in her heels, and she refused to slow down, so that by the time they reached the Penthouse he was nearly out of breath.

She had purposely declined a car as punishment, and he thought that was rather childish. Still, the air helped him sober up.

"Thanks for bailin' me out," he muttered, and it was like swallowing nails, thanking her, but he hoped he'd get back in her good graces.

She was _livid_ , so much so that she didn't even spare him a glance at his apology.

He figured.

He had thought the night couldn't _possibly_ get any worse. He'd gotten way too drunk way too quickly, courtesy of Peeta having them training like Careers for the past few months, and his tolerance was lower than normal. Johanna had laughed at him and called him names, and Chaff had chuckled in as well. Even Finnick had a _stupid_ grin on his face, so yah, he got completely _wasted_ , because he'd be damned if _Finnick O'dair_ out drank him.

Haymitch wasn't supposed to be drinking, not heavily, he'd basically promised Plutarch and Cinna and Katniss and Peeta and Effie, but one night wouldn't _kill_ him.

No, it didn't kill him, but he was certainly in deep _shit_. They'd gotten thrown in jail by a bartender who didn't give a damn that all but one of them would be in the Arena in a few hours.

"I'm rooting for the Careers," he'd said, his smile snarky, and had the nerve to wave goodbye when the Peacekeepers took them away.

They'd been waiting on Seeder, who'd sighed heavily on the phone when Chaff placed the call and didn't even bother saying anything. She just hung up, but they knew that meant she was on her way.

Seeder arrived about the same time Effie did.

Seeder, smiling wickedly, had taken the rest of the Victors, but had left Haymitch in Effie's care.

Effie, who was there bailing out a girlfriend of hers who had attended the Capitol party and had had a little _too_ much fun.

She had called her friend a car, and Haymitch had foolishly thought that they'd be getting in as well, but she had slammed the door, waved goodbye to her friend, and then started heading towards the Penthouse, her heels echoing against the pavement. He'd stood there, dumbfounded, for several moments, and then stumbled to catch up with her.

He didn't say much to her, he couldn't remember the last time she'd been this angry at him, but seeing her all hot and bothered made him _horny_ , and he _wanted_ her, he always wanted her, and when they got into the elevator he immediately grabbed her to him, his mouth seeking hers, but she pushed him away.

"I'm not that drunk, Princess," he clarified, thinking that was what was wrong, because she never slept with him when he was drunk, and it was something he _respected_ about her, which had been one hell of a fucking hard pill to swallow, knowing he _respected_ his _Escort_.

"Get _off_ of me, Haymitch," said Effie, clearly cross with him, and she pushed him away and slithered out of his grasp, his temper flaring as the elevator doors opened onto their suite.

He whirled on her, pushing her harshly against the wall, his face close to hers. "My best friend is going back in the _fucking_ Arena tomorrow, and I can't even fucking _root_ for him or _hope_ that he makes it out alive because in doing so I'd be goin' against my own got damn _fucking_ Tributes. So _yes_ , I went out tonight, for one last _fucking_ time with my _best fucking friend_ , because this God- _awful_ fucking city gets its _rocks_ off by seeing people _slaughter_ each other. So cut me some _fucking_ slack tonight, yah?"

She pushed him away – or at least tried to, drunk or not he was still very much stronger than her – her eyes brimming with tears. "You were supposed to be _quitting_." She didn't raise her voice, she didn't scream or shout, but the words pierced him nonetheless. "You _promised_ me."

It wasn't the accusation in her voice that deflated him, it was the disappointment. She _accused_ him of a lot of _shit_ over the years, but she had never quite sounded so disappointed.

" _Don't_ make me promises you can't keep." And suddenly Haymitch knew this was much more than just about drinking. This was about _everything_. Haymitch's promise to come back for her. Haymitch's promise to get Katniss and Peeta out of the Arena. Haymitch's promise to _stay alive_.

"I'm doin' the best I can, Princess," he told her quietly, and that seemed to deflate her. She leaned into him, her face buried in his neck. He wrapped his arms around her – and when the hell did _that_ get so easy? – and placed gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"I know," whispered Effie, her voice thick with tears, and he pretended not to hear the underlying message.

He _was_ doing the best he could, but honestly, his best was hardly ever enough, and she knew that. He left her more disappointed than not, but he wanted it to be _different_ this time.

And he knew better than to make her any more promises.

* * *

Eh. Not sure how I feel about this, hope u like it. Sorry haven't posted in a while, but I've got plenty to post.

For the love of God, go see Black Panther.


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